Healing the Single Dad's Heart

Joe appeared at the door. ‘Sorry,’ he said quickly, holding his hand out towards Regan. ‘I turned my back for a minute and he disappeared.’

‘It’s fine,’ Lien said quickly, not quite meeting his sad eyes.

‘But, Daddy—’

‘Let’s go, Regan,’ Joe said firmly. ‘Lien has work to do. You’ll see her some other time.’

He led Regan back out and she watched as they walked back across the grounds to their house. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. It wouldn’t be long before they walked away for ever. How would it feel to be here and know that she wouldn’t catch the familiar scent of his aftershave or hear the rough burr of his voice? She’d got so used to being around them, so comfortable.

But as they walked away, the void between them seemed wider than ever. Reuben appeared at her side, clutching some paperwork to add to the pile on the desk. ‘Hey, Lien,’ he said simply, shuffling the papers in his hands. He gave her a sideways glance. ‘I meant to ask, how are your parents keeping? They live around here somewhere, don’t they?’

Her skin prickled, her defences automatically on edge. It was a simple question. But one that she struggled to answer. Just that simple question flooded her brain with a whole host of thoughts about the differences in health between the richest and the poorest in Hanoi. It was likely he didn’t mean it that way, but it sent a surge through her. She turned on him. ‘Reuben, have you made a decision about what happens next?’

He seemed confused by the sudden question. ‘What do you mean?’

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Long term. You said you’d work here for a few months. That time is nearly up.’ She pointed to the piles of paperwork. ‘There’s still so many patients that could do with your services.’

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I know that. It’s just the timing issue. I have other responsibilities, other priorities...’

She held up one hand. ‘Shouldn’t your main priority be about keeping your clinic licence?’ She gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. ‘If you’re not working here—or somewhere similar—you’re not really serving the needs of our population, and therefore not continually meeting your licence requirements.’ She met his gaze steadily. ‘Wouldn’t you rather continue to have good publicity than bad?’

She hadn’t said the words. She hadn’t said she would report him or speak to the papers. But the unspoken implication hung in the air between them.

‘You’ve got a good set-up here,’ she continued. ‘A good theatre and competent staff.’

Silence, then he took a deep breath, and let out a long sigh. His gaze met hers. ‘It’s nice to contribute to the health and well-being of the less fortunate,’ he said smoothly. He paused. ‘Maybe...two sessions a month on a permanent basis?’

‘Two sessions a month would be excellent, Reuben.’ She dipped her head. ‘The May M?n clinic thanks you for your services to its patients.’

Her heart swelled in her chest as he walked out the door. Standing up to him had made her feel proud. A few years ago she could never have done this, but she’d already seen the differences his surgery had made to the lives of some of their long-term patients. This wasn’t about her. And it wasn’t about him. It was about the people who came here looking for help. The population she wanted to continue to serve.

She stared at the pile of paperwork on her desk. Referral letters, prescriptions to write and a few patients to review. Enough work to keep her here for the next few hours. At least then she wouldn’t be sitting in her house, wondering what was happening in the house next door.

Her phone rang. She frowned at the number that flashed up on her screen. Her father. He rarely used the phone. It only took her a few minutes to realise something was wrong.

It wasn’t her father that had phoned—it was her mother, and she was upset and babbling, talking so quickly that Lien could barely make out the words.

‘What’s wrong? Is it you, is it Dad?’

She tried to keep calm as she stood up and made a grab for her coat, the phone balanced at her ear.

‘Yes, okay, does he have a temperature? Is he conscious? Can he hear you?’ Her footsteps slowed a little. ‘How long has he been sick? Why didn’t you phone me sooner?’ She grabbed her stethoscope.

Her heart was clamouring inside her chest. She kept walking. There was no point blaming her mother. She knew exactly what her dad was like. He didn’t want to see any doctor—let alone his daughter.

He didn’t ever want to admit that anything was wrong with him. It was just his nature and, no matter how hard she had tried over the years, there was no changing him.

‘Mum, don’t panic. I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

Tan frowned as she saw Lien rushing towards her. She raised her eyebrows in question, without getting a chance to say a word.

‘I have to go. Emergency. I have to go and see...’ She paused, not wanting to say the words out loud. ‘A patient.’

‘Which patient? Which area?’ Tan started to walk alongside her. She grabbed hold of Lien’s arm.

But Lien wasn’t going to let anyone slow her down. She quickly gave her mum and dad’s address as she bolted out of the door. ‘Get someone to cover the hospital!’ she added as she headed outside, looking up as lightning shot across the sky and the dark clouds opened above her.

* * *

Joe fought against the lashing rain that seemed determined to distort his vision. He was trying his best to use the app on his phone to direct him to the house that Lien had gone to.

He still couldn’t get his head around this. She’d pointedly told him that they didn’t make home visits, no matter what his objection. But she’d left the clinic without a word to him, and the only clue he had to her whereabouts was the note Tan had scribbled for him that had the address on it.

The streets here were narrow. Forgotten washing hung between the cramped rows, dripping enormous amounts of rain on him. Garbage cans were piled up all along the street, some overflowing.

Joe squinted again at a doorway just as someone pulled open the door and almost stumbled into him. The small man was clearly taken aback at someone nearly on his doorstep and started shouting at him angrily.

Joe took a few apologetic steps back with his hands raised. As the man continued Joe decided to take a chance and thrust the now damp piece of paper in his hand towards the man. He couldn’t pretend he was anything other than hopelessly lost right now. The man looked at it for a few seconds and pointed to the other end of the street, continuing his rapid tirade.

After a few moments the man seemed to take pity on Joe’s confused expression and switched to English. ‘Last house, black door,’ he said, before throwing something in a nearby garbage can, then pulling up his collar and hurrying down the street.

Joe sighed in relief and hurried down towards the black door. He lifted his hand to knock, and then paused. He wasn’t even sure what to say. His Vietnamese was still sadly lacking, even though he’d tried his best to master the basics. He hadn’t caught a word of what the other man had been saying to him.

A shadow moved further along the street. Another man, staring at him quizzically. Joe lifted his hand again and knocked sharply. Joe’s stomach plummeted. He had no idea what this area was like. He’d sped out after Lien without a thought to his own safety. Lien’s expression the last time he’d done this swam in front of his eyes—when she’d asked him if he would risk leaving Regan with no parent. He tightened his grip on the doctor’s bag in his hand, wishing he’d taken the time to bring something less conspicuous. Trouble was, as soon as he’d heard that Lien had rushed out of the clinic alone, he hadn’t hesitated to follow. There was no way he was going to leave her alone with an emergency. He knocked again. ‘Hello, it’s the doctor from the May M?n hospital. Is Dr Lien here?’

*

* *

Lien froze. She’d just finished sounding her father’s chest. His colour was terrible and his lips distinctly tinged with blue. It had to be pneumonia. She had to get him to hospital.

She was already cold from the pouring rain, but the familiar voice made every tiny hair on her body stand on end.

Her mother looked at her and frowned at the strange voice. Before Lien had a chance to stop her, her mother’s petite figure had crossed the room and pulled the door open.

Joe stood in the doorway. There were only two rooms in the house so he could see Lien tending to her father as he still stood outside. He bowed to her mother and stepped inside. He had a large bag with him. ‘What do you need?’ he asked quickly.

She watched as he unloaded things he’d clearly brought from the hospital. A small oxygen tank, a pulse oximeter, along with an IV giving set, saline and a variety of antibiotics.

She blinked. She hadn’t thought to pick up anything when she’d left. She’d been so panicked by the phone call all she had was the stethoscope around her neck and her phone in her hand.

Her hands started shaking as her father had another coughing fit. Joe took one glance. ‘Is it pneumonia?’

She nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Which antibiotics do you want to use?’ he said.

She pointed to one with a trembling finger. Joe noticed, but didn’t mention it. ‘Why don’t you let me set up the line while you tell the patient what’s happening?’

He took a look around the simple home. She could almost hear his thoughts. Small, cramped. It was relatively tidy but the furnishings were worn.

He mixed the antibiotics, injected them into the saline bag, then ran the fluid through the giving set. She watched as he inserted a cannula into her father and quickly connected the bag, starting the process of delivering the IV antibiotics.