Baby Miracle In The Er

What he wanted now was to wipe away that pain, bring on a smile full of warmth—not that tight I-am-not-hiding-anything grimace that actually hid nothing. Forget staying uninvolved. At least until she was smiling again.

What’s wrong, Steph? What happened to throw you against that wall like you couldn’t stand up by yourself?

He knew her as a strong woman who didn’t buckle easily. Or so he’d believed. Something had undermined that strength today.

His jaw clenched. Tension rippled through his muscles. Did her mouth still tip up higher on the left side when she gave a genuine, big-hearted smile? He’d thought he’d conquered those sweet memories of how he wanted to sing and dance when she smiled. Of how her toffee eyes were easier to read than a toddler’s book. Of how calm he felt around her.

She’d never asked anything of him—except to go to a football match with her which, when interpreted, had meant have a future together. That had scared the pants off him and had had him hauling on the brakes fast. Getting in too deep hadn’t been an option. He hadn’t been able to give her the certainty she deserved, the ‘for ever’ she wanted.

Yet five minutes standing beside her, worrying about what was wrong, and it was as though the mantra he lived by had vamoosed.

He shook his hands, flexed his fingers, worked the tension out of his gut. There hadn’t been a lot of ease between him and Stephanie just now. Nor a lot of smiling. Stephanie’s eyes, laden with sadness—or was that despair?—and the colour draining from her cheeks had been like a rugby tackle around his knees.

Had she made the wrong choice when she’d swapped scrubs for a paramedic’s uniform and that was what was getting to her? No, there was depth to that sadness—close to deep pain. That didn’t come from changing jobs...not even for dedicated Stephanie.

Why aren’t you back here working with me, Stephanie? Us? When did you cut off all that long, thick blonde hair?

‘How’ve you been? Really?’ he asked her shadow as she turned the corner into the ambulance bay.

He’d missed her.

Not that he was admitting it. No way in hell.

A recollection of gremlins haunting her on bad days nagged at him. Shame he couldn’t recall the story of what had gone down in her life before he’d joined the department. He had an aversion to rumours and liked facts. And today the key to all this was there, swinging just out of reach. To catch it he had to follow up on today and track her down for a catch-up.

Or he could wait, since they’d be bumping into each regularly if she was operating out of the local St John base. So, no catch-up needed—which meant he could dodge a bullet.

They’d worked well together, had been friendly, and apart from those intoxicating two weeks had had little to do with each other outside of the ED. Best it was left like that. She’d handed in her notice a fortnight after they’d split and he’d felt uneasy ever since. As though he’d lost the one chance of real happiness he’d had because he hadn’t been prepared to put the past behind him and take a stand.

‘Shouldn’t you be knocking off?’ James, head of the next shift, nudged him. ‘Unless you’ve got nothing better to do than hang around staring after Stephanie Roberts—which surprises me.’

Why? Any man with blood in his veins would be doing the same—which kind of said James had ink in his. Something to be grateful for.

‘I’m on my way.’

Not that he had anything planned for the night. Doing his washing didn’t count, and getting some groceries would take care of all of twenty minutes. Both his close mates were tied up with babies and wives and apparent domestic bliss. Lucky guys.

It’s all yours for the taking if you want it.

He didn’t. One divorce was one too many on his life CV. Besides, there were already more than enough complications going down outside of work that left no time for him to care about anyone else. But...

The word was drawn out. But sometimes he wished he was going home to someone special—someone to love and be loved by with no qualification. Instantly Stephanie came to mind.

Jerking his head up, he snapped at James, ‘Have a busy night. Catch you tomorrow.’

Immediately he felt a heel. If this was what briefly seeing Stephanie did then he couldn’t manage spending any more time with her. He’d be a wreck within hours.

Charging through the department to his locker as if he had the ball and was being chased by the opposition forward pack, he snatched up his jacket and the keys to his motorbike. A spin over the harbour bridge in the chill winter air might cool his brain and freeze Stephanie out. And if it didn’t? Then he was in for a long night.

Once upon a time Monday nights meant drinks with the guys after rugby practice at the clubroom. Now it tended to be pizza delivery and catching up on emails and other scintillating stuff at home. Of course he got an earful of noise from his mates for being the only one still single. Jock and Max could never leave him to get on with his perfectly ordered life. They loved getting in his face about it too much.

The idea of pizza didn’t excite him today. Truth? It had stopped being exciting after the fourth Monday in a row—about two years back. But he wasn’t being picky if the alternative meant cooking something. Though the steak in his fridge would make a tasty change... Nah. Then there’d be dishes to do.

‘I see Steph’s become a paramedic.’

James was still with him, digging into his locker as well, apparently in the mood for talking.

‘Wonder why she’s gone to the other side?’

Michael hoped it wasn’t because she couldn’t work with him any more. But that was more likely his ego getting in the way of common sense. Whatever the reason, he should be glad she hadn’t returned to this department as a nurse, despite his wishing she had.

Working together was not an option when she tipped him off his pedestal too easily.

‘Crewing ambulances isn’t too far removed from the emergency department. Still the same patients, the same urgency and caring.’

The same sadness when something went belly-up. Could it just be that she was insecure about her ability? He wasn’t accepting that. Not from Stephanie Roberts.

‘But she was made to be an ED nurse.’ James looked puzzled. ‘Then again, we haven’t seen her in a while, so who knows what’s gone down in her life recently?’

Nothing awful, he hoped.

‘She’s not the first to take a change in vocation. There are days I wish I’d stuck to my rugby career, though my body is eternally grateful I didn’t.’

His half-sisters hadn’t been so thrilled at the change either, when it had dawned on them that he had less time and money to sort their problems.

‘You were good enough for a full-time career?’

The stunned look on James’s face had Michael laughing—and swallowing an unexpected mouthful of nostalgia.

‘You’d better believe it. I played franchise rugby for over two years. I was out on the wing until a heavy knock resulting in a second moderate concussion had me thinking that if I wanted to be a doctor after the rugby inevitably came to an end then I needed to look out for my brain. So I handed in my boots.’

He hadn’t been able to afford the risk of not having all his faculties in working order when he’d had other responsibilities needing his undivided attention. His half-sisters were his priority—had been since the day his father had extracted his promise to be the man around the place and look after them and their mother when he was thirteen, and from the way things were going, always would be.

Chantelle, in particular, made big enough messes with her life. What she’d have done if anything had happened to him was anyone’s guess. One that he no longer thought about. Instead he’d just accepted his role to be there for both of them continuously, to save them whenever things went wrong—as they did far too often with Chantelle. Thankfully Carly seemed settled in her new life in England. Strange how she’d managed to sort herself out once he hadn’t been there to support her... Their mother had taken off overseas so there was no having her to sort out.

‘No regrets?’

He didn’t need this conversation, but he’d been short with James and wanted to negate anything bad.

‘Some—but there’d have been a lot more if I’d suffered serious head injuries.’ Playing such a physical sport always had its issues. ‘Quitting was the right call.’

At first he’d missed the team camaraderie and the thrill of winning a hard-fought-for game, but he still had his two closest mates and it hadn’t taken him long to get into his stride studying to become a doctor. He’d had plenty of practice helping his half-sisters out of the mischief and chaos they’d got into, so extending that help into a medical career where he dealt with vulnerable people daily—hourly—was natural. Which was why losing a patient despite giving everything he had in the tank always hurt.

Stephanie’s earlier sadness had twisted his gut. She’d know those babies would now be tucked into incubators with monitors attached to their tiny bodies while specialists worked their butts off to save them. Yet he suspected she still needed a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to walk it out with, talk it through with—except, being her, there probably wouldn’t be much talking.

What time did her shift finish?

Leave it alone. Stay uninvolved.