by Emily Forbes
But there wasn’t much longer to go. She could survive this. But there was no denying he still made her heart race. She still wanted to feel his strong arms tight around her, still wanted that smile aimed at her and no one else. She was twenty-eight years old and he still affected her like he had when she'd been twenty-three. Was that normal?
And now she was expected to work with him, too. The fact that it was temporary wasn't making it any easier. How was she supposed to do her job when every time she turned around Tom was there?
Yesterday it had been home visits. Today he was accompanying her to the local primary school for the immunization clinic. But as much as she agonized over having to work with him, at least his presence was lightening her workload. He was pitching in wherever he could, and the immunization clinic was no exception.
She looked across at him, also armed with his vaccines and syringes, neatly organized, ready to immunize alongside the others. The school nurse and one of the child and youth health nurses were also present, a total of four health practitioners to vaccinate nearly three hundred children. Tom's assistance would help them get through the job much faster, unless she kept getting distracted.
She looked his way again and was stopped by the sight of him leaning across his table, his shirt stretched tight over his back by the movement. Shaking her head, Lexi motioned to the physical education teacher, Jan, to help move some partitions. She wanted to screen the treatment areas from the eyes of those waiting for their shots. The sight of others getting vaccinated was often more traumatic for people than the injection itself. And if she could arrange the screens in the right way, she'd block out Tom, too.
Tom joined them and had the screens in place within moments, then turned to drag gym mats from storage and stack them against the wall behind her. Jan stepped up to help and together they piled the mats four high, one pile behind each of the stations.
She knew she should help, but the action was riveting, Tom's muscles tensing and relaxing as he lifted the mats. He was wearing cotton shorts today, with respect to the summer heat, and his legs were tanned and muscular, the sinews working as he bent to catch a mat sliding from the top of one pile. She knew she shouldn't be ogling him but she couldn't begin to drag her eyes away. Not until distraction arrived in the form of the first batch of noisy six-year-olds.
For the next hour, she worked steadily beside Tom, able to listen to him but unable to see what he was doing, which was beneficial to her work but was making her strain to hear his voice as a substitute. She could hear him reassuring the children, just as she was, and he didn't appear to be rushing through the line too quickly. He was obviously taking his time, making sure the children were comfortable. As the older children started to join the lines, the real fun began. It was always amazing how well the younger children coped with injections compared to some of the older ones. Sure, they'd been waiting in line for longer and it was approaching lunchtime so they were probably tired and hungry. That was enough to make anyone irritable, but to listen to some of the complaints, she could've sworn they were about to have a limb amputated.
She was tired and hungry, too, strained from the pressure of trying to act normally around Tom. She took the consent form from the next girl in the queue, confirming her name and date of birth before checking that it had been signed in the appropriate spot.
'OK, Ashleigh, this will only take a second.'
'I don't feel too good.'
'You'll be fine,' Lexi responded automatically, glancing at the girl briefly before selecting a vaccine and syringe. She noted that Ashleigh did look a little pale, but that was nothing unusual.
As she depressed the plunger of the syringe slightly to dispel any air bubbles, she saw Ashleigh's eyes roll back in her head.
Lexi threw the syringe onto the table next to her before catching the girl under the armpits, preventing her from hitting the floor in a dead faint.
'Tom! I need a hand here.' She called him without thinking and he was at her side within seconds.
'What happened?' he asked even as he helped to lower the girl to the floor.
'She fainted. Before the injection, I might add.'
'Let's get her onto the gym mats. I'll take her legs. On three. One, two, three.' Together they executed a smooth lift and carried the young student the few paces to the pile of exercise mats. She came to as they laid her on the mats, but Lexi urged her to remain lying down.
Tom was instructing Jan to move partitions to screen them from the waiting students.
'Once you've done that, can you grab a glass of water, please?'
'No problem.'
Jan's tone of voice had Lexi raising her eyes to see what was going on. By the look on Jan's face she would have walked over hot coals to get that glass of water if that's what Tom had wanted, and Lexi wasn't prepared for the surge of jealousy she felt. It was a completely foreign emotion for her and she didn't like it. She should be used to the effect Tom's charm had on women. She'd certainly seen enough of it over the years, and even since he'd arrived in Pelican Beach. Donna, Peggy and even Mary had fallen under his spell, and a woman in labor was no easy target, so a young teacher would have no chance. Lexi rummaged through the supplies searching for the blood-pressure cuff, tossing things aside with rather more force than necessary. Finally pulling out the cuff, she took Ashleigh's BP, relieved to find it within normal range.
'Here you go, Dr Edwards.' Jan was back with the glass of water. Didn't she realize it was for the patient, not Tom?
Tom appeared completely oblivious to everything around him other than the patient. He took the offered glass, smiling at Jan in thanks, before coaxing Ashleigh to have a drink.
'Drink up. You'll still need to have your shot but perhaps Dr Patterson could do it while you lie down here?' Tom turned to Lexi and, naturally, she complied with his suggestion. She suspected she was just as keen to please him as all the other females over the age of eighteen, but she consoled herself by thinking it was in Ashleigh's best interests.
Once the excitement was over, Tom returned to his line, leaving Lexi to ponder why she'd called for his assistance so quickly. She could have managed on her own—she hoped she wasn't getting used to working with him. He wasn't going to be in Pelican Beach forever.
As Lexi walked down the hospital corridor towards the nursery her thoughts turned, once again, to Tom. In the brief time that he’d been here, he'd certainly managed to have an impact. She was starting to see his presence everywhere. This corridor where they'd walked on the night they'd delivered the twins, the bench where they'd sat at the beach. She knew she'd think of him whenever she drove past the school after the clinic yesterday. Soon the whole town would hold memories of Tom. How was she going to deal with that once he'd gone?
She stopped at the drink dispenser and filled a plastic cup with water. The cups were tiny so she could waste a few minutes refilling and drinking. She had to finish this train of thought or she'd never get her mind on the job.
She depressed the button for the second time and watched as the liquid splashed against the white plastic. She had her answer. She would deal with it once he had gone and not worry about it while he was still here. While he was here she would concentrate on accumulating some happy memories, positive things to look back on in days to come.
She drained her drink and tossed the cup into the bin, squaring her shoulders and mentally signing off from her inner dialogue as she walked the few remaining steps to the nursery and pushed open the door.
'Morning, Mary, I thought I might find you in here.' The door closed softly behind her as she crossed the carpeted floor and walked over to the patient she'd come to see, her new mum. Mary was sitting in an armchair, feeding one of the twins. She looked tired but content and Lexi felt a twinge of jealousy. Her biological clock was ticking. Loudly. She hadn't noticed it before Tom had unexpectedly reappeared. She was thankful she wouldn't have time to dwell on that now—there was work to be done.
'Who have we got here?
Rose or Jasmine?'
'Rose. She's always the first to get hungry.'
'How is it going?' Lexi sat down in the chair next to her, settling in to chat and make sure Mary really was doing OK.
Mary shook her head, rolling her eyes. 'I can't believe how busy they keep me. My milk's come in now and they're feeding well, but between breastfeeding, expressing and learning to bath, change, burp and juggle two babies, I barely have time for a shower.'
'You're going to have your hands full for the next few months, there's no doubt about that.'
'The next few years, more likely.'
'You're doing fine so far. The paediatrician was happy yesterday with their progress. Rose is back to her birth weight and Jasmine only has a hundred grams to go.'
'He said we could go home once Jasmine's weight is up. They're both over two kilograms now.'
'How do you feel about going home?' She kept her tone casual but was watching Mary for signs of anxiety, at least signs of anxiety exceeding the normal level of doubts that went along with first-time parenthood. 'Ready?'
'I don't think I'll ever be ready but I know I have to leave eventually.'
'Have you got some help organized?'
'Sam is home and Mum and Dad live on the property, too.'
'Good. I need to check you over as well but I'll wait until you finish feeding. Is there anything I can do?'
'Would you like to feed Jasmine for me? There's expressed milk in the fridge. They've been having a bottle a day of expressed milk so Sam and Mum will be able to help me feed them.'
Lexi hopped up, leaving the milk to warm while she changed Jasmine's nappy to get her comfortable for her feed. Bottle in hand, she settled herself back in the armchair as she cuddled the tiny infant into the curve of her arm, Jasmine taking the teat without much encouragement. Lexi bent her head to breathe in the distinctive newborn smell. She'd never worked out exactly what made babies smell that way—a mixture of milk and baby powder perhaps—but it was a fragrance she loved. She snuggled into Jasmine, watching as the baby gazed up at her, knowing she was just a fuzzy outline to the newborn but enjoying the contact nonetheless.
Except that sitting still for a while gave her thoughts the opportunity to resurface and her mind was busy again within a second of breathing in the baby's scent. Had she missed her chance of giving birth? Was she destined to be a mother only to her orphaned niece?
Despite her confusion five years ago, she'd never doubted she wanted to be a mother. Back then, all she'd doubted had been the timing. Since that episode, she'd never again let herself think about who the father of her child would be. There was nothing to think about because, deep down, she'd also always known it could only ever be Tom, and she'd lost that opportunity. So she'd shut the conundrum out of her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut to force her chattering mind to still, concentrating on Jasmine's scent instead. There wasn't going to be a second chance so there was no point dwelling on it. She'd have to make do with cuddling other people's babies.
She patted Jasmine on the back as the baby finished her bottle. 'Good girl, a nice full tummy. Let's get you settled then I'll take a look at your mum.' Lexi propped the tiny girl in a prone position along her forearm, supporting her head, while she rubbed her back in a circular motion. Jasmine burped obligingly and Lexi swaddled her and returned her to her crib.
She stood for a moment, watching as, Houdini-like, Jasmine extricated one tiny hand from her bunny rug and stuck a miniature thumb into her mouth. That done, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. A baby could make things look all so easy. As long as their basic needs were met, they were content.
Why couldn't life always be like that?
CHAPTER FIVE
Tom paddled out beyond the break and straddled his surfboard, legs dangling in the water, watching the sea curve into a wave before crashing close to shore. There was a handful of other surfers and he noted their presence without really seeing them. His thoughts were lagging behind his body today. He hoped a surf would help him to clear his head—it was crowded with conflicting thoughts, all concerning Lexi. He couldn't deny he was still attracted to her but he couldn't reconcile his feelings over her with his feelings over the events of five years ago.
He lay on his board as it rose and fell with the beginning swell of each new wave and let his thoughts wander. A few hours in the surf was usually all he needed to process whatever was on his mind and he let the cool water moving about him work its magic.
When he'd first laid eyes on Lexi again she'd taken his breath away. She was just as he remembered her. She didn't look a day older, with her trusting hazel eyes and mass of dark blonde ringlets swaying around her heart-shaped face. The real question was: did meeting her again make any difference to his life now?
He shook his head. He'd sworn off relationships and, anyway, his time in Pelican Beach was limited. A friendship was all they could have.
The morning sun was starting to beat down on him, his dark wetsuit trapping the heat, the warmth a pleasing contrast to the coolness of the water. He looked at the sea properly now and watched the pattern of the waves as they rolled in to shore. The beach was narrow, with menacing rocks piled at one end and a submerged reef at the other. The swell was large and the current was strong but there were still a few swimmers in the water. Confident or foolish? He couldn't decide.
He looked over his shoulder and saw a swell approaching. Lying on his board, he paddled with strong, rhythmical strokes towards the beach, timing his run to catch the developing wave. He felt the water start to lift his board and sprang to his feet in one fluid movement, turning the board onto the face of the wave. This was the part he loved, the feeling of being at one with nature. He felt completely free, alone but not lonely. He could hear the sea rushing under him as the fin of his board sliced through the water, felt the salt spray on his face and the wind in his hair. Eagles soaring on thermal currents must feel this way: freedom and a false sense of control. At any moment he could be tossed off his board, but riding the wave was exhilarating and it was worth the risk of losing control.
He'd have to remember to tell that to Lexi. She'd once accused him of having to solve everyone's problems, of always taking control, but with his surfing, he knew he'd never have full control and he was happy to accept that. He wasn’t a control freak. He just liked order in his world.
He reached shallow water and the wave ran out of energy. He turned around to paddle back out, going over the next wave and ducking under the second as the water deepened again. He lost track of time as he paddled and surfed. The waves were breaking perfectly for him and he immersed himself in the familiar routine, riding the waves and clearing his mind.
His muscles were starting to tire as he sprang to his feet once again, the sensation letting him know it was almost time to call it quits for the morning. The physical fatigue was a welcome feeling. As his body became increasingly tired, so his mind became more rested.
Heading back out for a final wave, he paddled beyond the break and out of the corner of his eye caught sight of a lone swimmer to his left, a long way from shore. The sun reflecting off the water was almost blinding, and he shaded his eyes, trying to see which way the swimmer was heading. Expecting to see him doing an overarm stroke, he was surprised to see no movement at first and he squinted a little more, and then—there. Now an arm was raised, but after a split second he realized it was staying in the air, not making a stroke. The sign of a swimmer in distress.
He glanced around, back to shore, but there was no one within shouting range, in the water or on the beach. He was on his own.
He put his head down over his board and started to paddle, pulling his board through the water, counting to thirty before looking up to check his position, only to find he wasn't any closer to the swimmer. How could that be? He put his head down again and paddled faster. His arms were strong but he'd been surfing for over an hour already and lactic acid was starting to burn in his muscles. Another count to t
hirty, and he lifted his head, to find not only was he no closer, the man was, in fact, moving further away. Suddenly he understood—the swimmer was caught in a rip and it was dragging him out to sea.
The only option was for him to swim on a diagonal path to try to escape the pull of the water. The options for the distressed man were just as limited.
'Swim towards those rocks.' Tom shouted, and pointed to a group of rocks jutting out from the shore at a forty-degree angle to the swimmer. He glanced at the rocks for no more than a couple of seconds. By the time he looked back, the man had vanished.
Tom froze on his board. The swimmer must be behind a wave. His head would be visible soon.
Tom shielded his eyes and scanned the waves.
Nothing.
'Damn it. Hold on, I'm coming!' Even as he shouted the words he knew he wouldn't be heard. The man must be under the water.
He started counting again, trying to keep track of how much time had passed, how long the man had been submerged. He paddled furiously and finally his board slipped into the rip, and he felt it being pulled along, felt the relief in his arms as the water took over and he was no longer working against its pull.
He had to find him.
He kept paddling, trying to close the distance. There—he could see him. The gap was closing now.
‘I' m nearly there. Can you hear me?'
The man wasn't moving. He was floating face down, drifting along with the current. Tom sat astride his board, trying to maintain his balance as he reached over and grabbed the man under his armpits. He tried to turn him over but he matched Tom in size. Unconscious, he was a dead weight.
Tom slid into the water, hoping he'd be able to get them both onto the board. Keeping hold of his board with one arm was no easy task; trying to haul the man onto his board even a little way was no easier, so he gave up, muttering an expletive at his clumsy attempts at lifesaving. Attempting to perform an ABC check with his free hand, working his legs underwater to keep his balance, he had a bizarre flash of gratitude that in his hundreds of surfs, he'd never had to deal with a situation like this before. A doctor he might be, and a surfer, but if these two worlds never collided again, he'd be more than happy. Every element of this so-called rescue operation was a struggle and he could feel exhaustion creeping over him despite the adrenaline surging through him. These thoughts flashed through his mind as he maintained his hold on the board and the man and kept on with his checks, swearing again as he confirmed what he'd already known: the man wasn't breathing.
