‘I’ve finally worked that out.’ Now he could see it was so obvious. No hugs, no talks about his family. But he’d been cared for, safe, fed and clothed. ‘You lost your wife, and then your sister.’
‘It was a bad time.’ Henry drained his glass.
Nixon went to refill it. It was Christmas morning after all and they were having quite the conversation. Damn it. He took the bottle outside. ‘Tell me about Mum. I remember her always laughing, and she sang a lot.’
‘You call that singing? Haven’t I taught you anything?’ Henry chuckled. ‘But, yes, she loved to sing. But most of all she loved her boys. You were everything to her. You two and your father. I’d never known her to be so happy.’
Nixon sipped his wine, absorbing this knowledge. ‘Thank you.’
Out on the street some youngsters played, shouting and laughing, reminding him of Rosie. Such a well-rounded girl because she had a wonderful, caring, fiercely protective mother. Emma didn’t have any problems letting him get close to her daughter, to taking part in small ways in her life. Had Emma let her guard down? Was he worthy of her trust?
‘Don’t make the same mistakes I did.’ There was a ton of regret in Henry’s voice. ‘I could’ve remarried, had another chance at happiness but I refused to let her in.’
‘It’s not too late.’
Henry sipped his drink. ‘No, lad, it’s not.’
*
‘Doing anything exciting tonight?’ Steph asked Emma as they headed into ED a week later.
It was New Year’s Eve and Queenstown would be party central. ‘Staying out at the Valley. Mum and Dad always have open house.’ Emma laughed. ‘Rosie and I have been there since Christmas.’ The three days she’d been at work had been busy, and she was looking forward to the New Year public holidays for some rest. When would she start to feel normal again? This tiredness had gone on too long.
‘How’s that puppy coping with Rosie?’ Nixon called from his office as she passed.
Emma’s heart fluttered. She’d missed him. His uncle had taken ill on Boxing Day and Nixon had remained in Dunedin until last night, making sure Henry rested. They’d talked every day but it wasn’t the same as being with him. There’d been a hesitation in his voice she couldn’t pinpoint. Stepping inside the office, she told him, ‘They’re inseparable. How’s Henry?’ Damn but he was beautiful. That lean body and those tight muscles at the edges of his scrubs’ sleeves. That mouth that did amazing things to her body.
‘Back to his usual taciturn self,’ Nixon replied fondly, which was unusual. He was normally guarded when talking about his family. How likely was it that they’d talked about the past and whatever held Nixon back?
Walking around the desk, she leaned in to kiss him, inhaled him, felt his shoulders under her hands. ‘I missed you. You still game for tonight?’ She’d invited him to join her at her family’s home for the night. As in, stay over in the spare bedroom, and hopefully sneak down the hall to her room like two naughty teens when the lights went out.
Pewter eyes met hers, clear of any hesitation now. ‘You bet.’
‘Good answer.’ She’d held lingering doubts that he was going to continue seeing her when he returned. That meltdown she’d had on Christmas Eve had rattled him as much as her, though for different reasons. Shock had marred his face when she’d said she wanted a baby. As well it might. They weren’t anywhere near ready for that level of commitment. Nor was she ready to carry another baby. She had to wait, enjoy being with Nixon and slowly bring him around to seeing he could have a loving life with her and Rosie. If he wanted to…and she thought he might.
Nixon cupped her head to draw her close again.
‘Hmm,’ Steph cleared her throat. ‘Nixon, you’re needed in Resus.’
‘Right.’ He was up and moving towards the door. ‘Nothing like reality to remind me where we are.’
Following him, Emma envied the energy blasting off him as those long legs ate up the distance to Resus. Right on cue a yawn stretched her mouth.
‘You’re still doing that?’ Nixon asked as he reached for the patient notes being held out to him. But then he was reading and she ducked out of answering.
Until the middle of shift when he caught her out again. ‘Think you need your iron levels checked? The pregnancy could’ve caused anaemia.’
‘My haemoglobin is around one twenty.’ Not anaemic by any stretch.
‘Let’s get it checked anyway.’ Nixon took her elbow and led her to his office. ‘I’ll fill out a lab request so you can get it done before you leave work.’
With Nixon acting on her exhaustion she felt worse. This tiredness was for real, not something her imagination had conjured up. ‘Okay.’
Nixon printed a request form and signed it with a flourish. ‘Don’t put it off.’
‘I said okay,’ she snapped, letting the tiredness get to her. Instead of gaining more energy, her body was on a downhill slide and even her boobs had returned to aching at inconvenient moments.
‘Go now while we’re not busy.’
‘Thanks.’ She’d be a load of fun tonight like this. The lift was waiting, as though expecting her. She hit the floor number and leaned back against the cool wall. Her boobs ached. As they had when her milk was drying up. Or when she was in the early stages of pregnancy with Grace.
Emma straightened up fast. ‘No way. Can’t be.’
Women didn’t get pregnant this soon after giving birth. Huh? Which nursing textbook did she get that out of? Just as breastfeeding didn’t act as birth control, there was no downtime when sex was safe. But she and Nixon had been careful, always used condoms. Had to be low iron. Could not be any other reason.
It had been a month since Grace’s arrival. No bloody way.
The lab form shook in her hand as she stared at the tests Nixon had requested. CBC and iron studies. Nothing startling, nothing to change the momentum of her life. Unless the CBC showed some abnormality with her white or r
ed cells, or platelets, which hadn’t occurred to either her or Nixon. But nor had that idea her brain had just thrown at her. Had they used a condom each and every time they’d made love? Yes, she’d swear they had.
The lift shook to a stop on the floor holding the lab. Emma shivered. Stepping through the door, she hesitated, wanted to run, head home to hide under the bedcovers. Go to sleep and wake up knowing she’d been silly even to consider she might be pregnant. Glancing down the hall, she saw Cindy, a pal from school who’d played goal shoot to her goal defence when she played netball in winter. If ever she needed Cindy, now was it.
‘Hello, what brings you up here?’ asked Cindy the moment she saw Emma.
‘I need a blood test.’ She shoved the form into Cindy’s hand. ‘I know it’s not your job but can you take the specimen? I need to ask you something.’ Lab technicians were trained to take blood samples.
‘Come with me.’ Cindy led her into a little used cubicle. ‘Sit and tell me what’s got you in a sweat.’
‘You’re working in biochemistry, right?’ When Cindy nodded, she continued. ‘Is there any chance you could run an HCG for me? I’ll make it legit by paying, but I don’t want the result going to the doctor who signed the form.’
Cindy’s eyes widened, but all she said was, ‘Sure.’
Within minutes Emma was on her way back to the department, the worry that had been gnawing at her for hours put to rest. It was as though, now she’d faced the real possibility she could be pregnant, she wasn’t bothered. The panic had gone. Only to return if the HCG test showed positive.
Then she’d have to face reality and make some difficult decisions.
She’d have to think of Rosie, and her family.
Her job. How could she continue to work if she had a baby as well as a school-age child?
She’d have to confront Nixon.
Panic flared, returned harder and tighter than the first round. Emma backed up against the wall, out of the way of patients and staff, working at keeping herself from doing a face plant as her knees no longer had the strength to hold her upright.