Reunited By Their Secret Son

‘Yes. Yes—oh?’ She froze, completely taken aback. For a second he saw fear flicker across her eyes then she stood up. Fear? Why? Because he’d never called as he’d promised? ‘Finn? Is it you? It’s Finn, yes?’

There was little warmth there; her mouth was taut in a straight line. No laughter. Not at all. She was still startlingly pretty. Not a trace of make-up, but she didn’t need anything to make her any more beautiful. His gut clenched as he remembered more of that night and how good she’d made him feel.

Too bad, matey.

The fear gone, she smiled hesitantly and tugged the boy closer to her leg, her voice a little wobbly and a little less soft. ‘Wow. Finn, this is a surprise—’

‘Sophie. Hello. Yes, I’m Finn. Long time, no see.’ Glib, he knew, when there was so much he should say to explain what had happened, why he hadn’t called, but telling her his excuses during a professional consultation wasn’t the right time. Besides, she had a child now; she’d moved on from their one night together, clearly. He glanced at her left hand, the one that held her boy so close—no wedding ring. But that didn’t mean a thing these days; she could be happily unmarried and in a relationship.

And why her marital status pinged into his head he just didn’t know. He had no right to wonder after the silence he’d held for well over two years.

They were just two people who’d shared one night a long time ago. There was no professional line to cross here. He was doing her a favour by seeing her son. If things felt awkward he could always assign her to a different physiotherapist for the next appointment.

‘Yes. Wow. It’s a small world.’ He infused his manner with professionalism, choosing not to go down Memory Lane. He was a different man now. Although he couldn’t help but notice as he turned that his left leg was shaking a little more than usual. In fact, all of him was. It was surprise, that was all. His past life clashing with his present. He concentrated hard on being steady and not limping in front of her, because for some reason it mattered that she saw him as whole. ‘Right, then, so this is Lachie? Come on through.’

Good karma? No chance. Judging by the way Sophie was looking at him, the good karma fairy had gone on her lunch break.

* * *

Finn.

Wow.

Sophie put her hand to her mouth and followed him into the examination room. Tried to act calm while her heart hammered against her chest wall. So many questions.

Finn. She hadn’t even known his surname. Geez. It was on his badge. Finn Baird. That information would have been immensely useful a few years ago.

Wow. Here he was, after all this time. After everything. She gaped at him, wanting to rail at him, to put her fists on his chest and pound. Hard. Wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been and what the hell he’d been doing. But she did none of that and instead she smiled, fussed around her son and pretended being here with the man who’d no doubt forgotten her the moment she’d left the hotel room was no big deal at all.

The most important person in the room was Lachie, so both she and Finn needed to rise above any failed promises from a long time ago. ‘This is Lachie. He’s eighteen months old. He’s got bilateral talipes. He’s been treated with the Ponseti method and now we’re just keeping the feet straight with boots and bars at night.’ She paused and tried not to sound as rattled as she felt. ‘Thanks for fitting us in. I’m sorry we missed our appointment with Ross.’

‘He’s got a meeting across town, otherwise I’m sure he’d have waited for you.’ Oh. Okay. So no chance of a reprieve, then.

Finn lifted his eyes from Lachie’s notes and met her gaze. She couldn’t tell in those Celtic blue irises what the hell was going on in his head, but she knew by the complete lack of concern in his demeanour that he had no idea. No idea at all.

‘So this is his routine check-up? How’s he doing with the boots and bars?’

‘Not well, I’m afraid. He’s pretty grumpy about it all.’ She picked her son up and popped him on the examination couch and tickled him. Pretty much guaranteed to bring a smile to his face. Because right now she couldn’t cope with another tantrum. Right now she wanted to rewind the clock to this morning, have a different start to the day and make her appointment with the other physiotherapist on time. ‘Grumpy, aren’t you? Mr Monster?’

Her boy threw his head back and giggled. It was such a delicious sound and always made her world a lot better when she heard it. She looked over and saw Finn watching her. Was he doing the maths?

Her heart contracted in a swift and urgent need to protect her boy. She put her arms around him and held him close. But Finn seemed completely oblivious to what was right in front of his face. ‘You’re still working, Sophie? I heard you say something about it at Reception. A nurse—that’s right?’

So he’d remembered that at least. Had he remembered anything else? How right it had felt? How crazy it had been to find someone who got you in a city the size of Edinburgh, a country the size of Scotland? That was what she’d thought then. Now she could only think of curse words. She bit them back. ‘Yes. I’m a Health Visitor now, though. I work out of Campbell Street clinic.’

‘Ah. A nine-to-five gig?’

‘More like eight until eight most days. But yes.’

‘You like it?’

What did it matter to him? What did any of her life matter to him?

It was hard to believe she was here having a conversation about minor stuff instead of the conversation they should have been having. But not here, not in front of Lachie. ‘I don’t want to take up more of your time than I should. Let’s get on, shall we? It’s all in the notes but I’ll précis for you. It’ll be quicker. Lachie had eight castings to make his feet straight and a tenotomy to loosen the heel cords, which hurt but he tolerated. He wears the boots and bars only at night-time and for his afternoon naps now. I try to make sure he has them on close to twelve hours a day.’ She took the offending plastic boots out of her bag and gave them to Finn. ‘He hates them.’

Finn’s eyes widened but he nodded. If he was rattled by her he didn’t show it, at least not to Lachie. For that she was grateful. Finn grinned down at the boy. ‘So, Mr Monster, eh? Cool name, buddy. The rest of us get stuck with boring ones like Finn. That’s me. Finn.’ He stuck his hand out towards Lachie, who was staring up at him with his wide—Celtic blue—eyes. ‘You want to shake hands? No? How about a high five? That’s right, my man. High. Low...’ Finn brought his hand up high then down low then right back to meet Lachie’s little palm. ‘Ah, you got me. You’re too quick.’ He looked down at Lachie’s feet and asked, ‘Is it okay if I look at your feet? Can you take your trainers off? Atta boy.’

Sophie’s heart was bursting with pride as she watched Lachie rip the Velcro on his trainers with a huge grin. Then even more as he hit them on the examination trolley until they flashed. ‘Flash.’

‘Whoa.’ Finn raised his palms and looked very impressed. ‘This is superhero territory.’

He leaned his hips against the couch and stamped his right foot. Then wobbled minutely and grabbed the gurney, glancing for the tiniest of moments over to Sophie and then back at Lachie. Which was a little strange.

Was he checking if she’d seen him wobble? Or just checking if she was watching his examination? Some health professionals were spooked if they had to treat other medics, in case they were being judged.

Finn shrugged. ‘See? Mine don’t flash at all. I need a pair of those. If only you could wear the flashing ones at night instead, eh? But they are for daytime adventures and these...’ he picked up the clinical plastic boots and showed them to Lachie ‘...these are for night-time adventures. I know, I know you don’t like them but they’ll give you even more superhero powers if you keep them on. Right, let’s have a look at those toes. Ten? You have ten toes? Excellent. I won’t tickle, I promise. Well, not if you don’t want me to.’

‘Can you see the redness?’ She knew she was starting to sound rude but being in here was suffocating. The pride in her son mingled with sadness and anger in Sophie’s chest. Finn should have called as he’d said he would. He should have damned well called. She tried to hurry him up. ‘There, at the back of the heel.’

‘Well, the feet are nice and straight so that’s good. But yes, there is some redness. The boots seem to be the right size. Have you tried putting Vaseline in? That helps.’

‘Yes. But he’s so wriggly when I put them on it’s like a game of Twister, all arms and legs. I think he’s scraping his heels against the plastic when he tries to scramble his feet out while I try to squeeze them in.’

Finn nodded. ‘Yes, it’s a common problem. I’ll give you some second skin plasters; they should help. It’s often easier to have someone else around to give you a hand putting the boots on at bedtime. Either that or become an octopus.’

‘An octopus?’

‘Eight arms.’ He grinned at his little joke.

She didn’t. ‘Well, we’ll just have to manage because...’ She didn’t want to say it, not to him, but it was the truth. She’d lost her beloved grandmother—her main cheerleader her whole life—before she’d even met Finn. Her parents had barely been in the same hemisphere as her for twenty-odd years. And she’d been too busy being a working single mum to raise her head over the dating parapet. ‘... There is no one else.’

Finn’s head shot up from examining Lachie. ‘I see. Okay. Well, listen, Mr Monster, could you be a good boy and sit very still when your Mummy puts your boots on every night?’

Lachie nodded, open-mouthed.

‘I’ve got some superhero stickers for you. Every time you sit still for Mummy you can have a sticker. Deal? And you can put them on your night-time boots and make them fit for a superhero like you.’

‘Yes.’ Lachie nodded and laughed. ‘Dickers.’

‘Stickers, honey. St...stickers. Thanks, er, Finn. That’s a great idea. We’ll try them.’

Typical. Every night was a battleground lately and, no matter what she’d done or said or promised, Lachie had fought her about those boots. Now he was nodding, all big-eyed at Finn.

Yes, life would have been immensely easier if there’d been two pairs of hands throughout her pregnancy and the birth and the endless hospital appointments for Lachie’s feet. Two parents to ease the strain. Two brains to work out how to deal with his problems and work out a shared timetable instead of it all being on her, juggling everything. Two hearts to love him. Because he deserved that, more than anything.

She pressed her lips together and stopped a stream of bad words escaping her mouth. At least the man was taking time out of his schedule to see them. He wasn’t all bad.

There had been many times, usually during one of Lachie’s sleepless nights, or more recently during his tantrums, when she’d thought the opposite. She really needed to talk to him.