by Amy Andrews
OK. OK. She took another deep breath as the words she’d practiced deserted her. ‘I don’t really know how to say this.’
Gabe came around the front of the table. Beth looked two shades paler than a moment ago. This was big. He put his hands on his hips. ‘Beth, you’re worrying me now. I don’t care how you say it. Just say it.’
Beth nodded. Then swallowed. ‘I’m…’ Her voice quavered and she cleared her throat. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Gabe felt the words fall heavily, like stones, between them. Boulders. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He just stood and stared.
‘I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t in your plans. It wasn’t in mine either. But it’s happened. I know it’s not what you want. That’s fine. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t expect you to be involved in any way, shape or form. I just thought you should know.’
Beth finished and waited for a response. Gabe was staring at her, unmoving. Like the news had turned him into a statue. He didn’t even blink. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, upset or…having an absent seizure.
Gabe felt as if he was having an out-of-body experience. Like he’d wake up any moment and be in his bed at the hotel. He didn’t feel anything. His mind, his thoughts, his body seemed…frozen.
‘Gabe?’
He blinked at the sound of her voice but still his brain was blank.
‘Gabe?’ Beth prodded again. He was looking at her with an unfathomable expression and she placed a hand on her stomach.
His gaze flicked down to where her hand spanned her flat belly. His child was inside her? He shook his head. ‘But…but we used protection.’
Beth heard the disbelief in his voice and could see the comical aspect despite the seriousness. A doctor, a neuro-surgeon standing there, trying to tell her that condoms were infallible?
‘Yes, we did.’
It took a few more moments for Gabe to process the information. ‘And you’re sure?’
She nodded. ‘I’m thirteen weeks.’
Thirteen weeks? Gabe leant back against the table. ‘You’ve known for a while,’ he stated, still stunned.
Beth shrugged. ‘I didn’t see the point in turning your world upside down until I’d carried the baby through the first trimester.’
He nodded. Made sense. Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. A kid? He didn’t have time for a kid. ‘I…I don’t know what to say.’
Gabe looked totally horrified. His green eyes were dazed as he stroked his jaw absently. ‘It was a shock for me also,’ Beth said quietly. Part of her had hoped for a different reaction but deep down she’d known the news wouldn’t be welcome.
He looked into her steady blue gaze, her hand still cradling her stomach. It may have been a shock but she seemed quite together about it. Granted, she’d had longer than him to get used to it but she didn’t seem panicked or stricken or upset. Surely at thirty-eight this must have been a most unwelcome development?
‘So…you want to…have the baby?’
Beth took an involuntary step back, her hands tightening protectively around her stomach. ‘More than I’ve ever wanted anything.’
Gabe stared at her. Her tone brooked no argument, her mouth a tight line. ‘But…what about…’ He groped around for something to say while his brain tried to make sense of the situation. ‘What about your career?’
‘My career, Gabe? Or your career?’ she asked icily.
Gabe shook his head to clear it. His mind was a jumble. ‘I’m sorry…I’m making a bit of a hash of this…I just assumed that as you were single with no kids by now, it was through choice…that children weren’t on your agenda.’
Beth felt a well of emotion stronger than her anger rise in her chest and tears pricked her eyes. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep because her arms had ached so much? ‘No. It wasn’t through choice. It was just the way it panned out.’
Gabe couldn’t believe the conversation they were having. To think ten minutes ago, separating conjoined twins had been his biggest worry. It seemed like a walk in the park compared to this.
‘You really want to do this…don’t you?’
Beth heard the disbelief in his voice. It was obvious he thought being lumbered with a baby was a fate worse than death. She had to make him see that she wanted this baby desperately. That it wasn’t some last whim of an almost barren nearly-forty female.
‘Twenty-three years ago I had a baby. A little boy. I was fifteen. I gave him up for adoption. It broke my heart.’ Beth’s voice cracked at the effort it took to suppress the memories of that time and not break down in front of him. ‘So, yes, Gabe,’ she continued, her voice trembling with the fierceness needed to protect the baby growing inside her. ‘I do. I do want to have the baby.’
Gabe stared at Beth, her second shocking revelation in as many minutes hanging between them. It was even harder to absorb than the first one had been. She’d had a baby? This was the chunk of information he’d sensed she’d left out that first day at Barney’s. It was obviously the reason why she’d run away and why she’d ended up fostered by the Winterses.
Gabe pushed away from the table to pace, feeling like his head was about to explode. What the hell was he going to do? He paced for a few minutes, conscious of Beth watching him. He turned and looked at her, one hand on her stomach, the other clenched into a fist by her side.
It was obvious her mind was made up. And given what he now knew, he could understand why. But still…
He lived on the other side of the world. His private practice, his entire career was ten of thousands of kilometres away. A twenty-four-hour trip by plane. Oh, God, did she expect him to propose? Would she even come to the UK?
‘Well, of course…I’ll…’ he swallowed ‘…support you in anything you want to do.’
Beth shook her head, taking pity on him. She’d just dumped an awful lot of information in his lap. ‘No, Gabe. I told you. I don’t want you to. And I certainly don’t expect you to. I know this isn’t what you want. I’m perfectly happy to raise this child alone. Just go back to England when your contract runs out and forget about us. I won’t blame you or think any less of you.’
Gabe stopped pacing. He searched her face. He couldn’t believe she was being so calm. Giving him an out. She hadn’t insisted on a gold band and a white picket fence. In fact, she’d absolved him from all responsibility. Wasn’t she supposed to want that? This was too much. It was all too much.
‘You really mean that, don’t you? You’d raise this baby on your own.’
Beth frowned. ‘Of course.’
Gabe reeled. This was madness. ‘Doesn’t that scare you witless? Isn’t that just too…daunting?’
Beth nodded. ‘Of course it’s scary and daunting and overwhelming and there are a lot of voices in my head, from my past…my father, my stepmother…that make me doubt myself. But I’m not fifteen this time around and I have a supportive family and a home and a stable income. And I want this more than anything.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ He rubbed the back of his neck again. ‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘I’ve just dumped this in your lap and I’m sorry, you’ve got enough to worry about, I realise. You need to concentrate on Brooke and Bridie. Don’t worry about me. Or the baby.’
She was seriously going to let him walk away?
Gabe knew he didn’t want to be a father. He hadn’t planned it and he hadn’t asked for it. The question was, could he just fly back to the UK and turn his back on his child? Have nothing to do with it? Ever? What kind of a human being did that make him?
Harlon Fallon’s son.
He shivered. Even if Beth was as OK with it as she appeared, it just didn’t seem right. Didn’t his baby deserve two parents? A father as well? One that was around. Interested? Involved? Didn’t he want to spare his child the insecurities that had plagued him because of his absent father?
How many nights had he gone to bed with a churned-up stomach knowing tha
t he had a father out there that would rather be in a hospital full of sick people than at home with him? How often had he questioned his identity and his way in life with no father figure as a guide? How miserable had he felt when no matter how hard he had tried to get his father’s attention, nothing had ever seemed to work? He’d had to become a doctor before Harlon Fallon had taken any notice of him.
When he looked back at his childhood he could describe it in one word. Incomplete. Could he inflict that on another child? His own child?
‘I want to help.’
Beth blinked. ‘Wh-what?’
Gabe blinked too, not sure he’d actually said the words. ‘This baby…it’s my responsibility too.’
Beth felt her pulse slow right down, her blood roar in her ears. He wanted to help? His responsibility? What did that mean? She took a step back. ‘I don’t understand. I didn’t think you’d want to…It’s OK, you can walk away, Gabe. I won’t judge you. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of this baby. I own my own home, I have good savings, a few investments and a well-paid job. We’ll be okay.’
The more determined she seemed to push him away, the more certain he became. It obviously hadn’t occurred to her that he’d want any part of it. And, frankly, it scared the hell out of him but as each second ticked by his convictions crystallised.
‘I’m not walking. I’m not sure I understand why you’re so determined to make me. We both had fathers that left a lot to be desired. They were absent. Emotionally distant. I’m not going to make the same mistake with my own kid. Don’t you want better for our child?’
Beth looked at him still dumbfounded by his desire to be involved. ‘Of course. I just didn’t think you’d want to be involved. I don’t want you to feel you have to be out of some stupid sense of propriety or duty.’
‘I’m the father,’ Gabe said testily. ‘It is my duty.’
‘You know what I mean,’ Beth said, her voice tinged with exasperation. ‘How do you think it’s going to work? Your career is taking off. I can’t go to the UK, Gabe.’
Was that what he wanted? Hell, he didn’t know. He needed to think things through. All he knew was that he wanted to be part of his child’s life. He wanted to be more than a sperm donor and a mysterious gift every birthday.
Gabe shrugged, buying time for his startled thought processes to compute the information. ‘Why not?’
Beth felt a knot of tension pull hard in her stomach. ‘I can’t leave…I have to stay. My son…he may try and get in contact with me one day. I need to be here for that…in case.’
Gabe leant heavily against the operating table. Beth’s twenty-three-year-old son. Another angle to consider. Beth had had weeks to think this through, look at it in minute detail. The shocking news had rendered him completely incapable of anything other than breathing, and yet she had everything planned out.
‘I don’t know, Beth. I don’t know how it’ll work. All I know is that I want to be involved. I need time to think about this.’
Beth heard the weary note in his voice, still surprised at his insistence. Shocked, actually. Shocked was a much better word. He hadn’t been in any of the plans she’d weaved over the last six weeks. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to make room for him. She’d been so sure he’d run. A tremor of apprehension ran through her as she glanced at him uneasily. What did that mean for her future now?
‘Of course, Gabe,’ Beth said, pulling her straying thoughts back into line. ‘There’s a lot to take in. And your plate was pretty full to begin with. We don’t have to make any concrete decisions at the moment. Nothing has to be decided for ages yet. Let’s just get the separation out of the way first.’
Time. They both needed time to think. Adjust.
Gabe leant against the table again, admiring her ability to prioritise calmly. All his focus and energies since arriving in Brisbane had been concentrated on the twins. Every waking moment, even some sleeping ones and certainly every spare minute had been given to the operation. Yet this piece of news had completely obliterated Brooke and Bridie from his mind.
She was right, though—first things first. And the Fisher twins took that honour. He nodded. ‘Separation first.’
‘I’ll let you get on with your practice,’ Beth said, backing away.
‘Sure,’ Gabe said absently. He looked down at the discarded silicone model and knew there was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on that tonight.
Beth reached the door and paused. She looked over her shoulder at a bewildered Gabe who was staring unseeingly at the practice model. He looked like he’d had the stuffing knocked out of him. Maybe she should have kept quiet?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d want to know.’
Gabe looked up. ‘Of course,’ he sighed. ‘You did the right thing.’
He watched her open the door. It seemed odd that they were parting like this after such news. Finding out their night together had created a life was about as intimate as you could get. An embrace seemed more appropriate.
‘When’s the baby due?’ Gabe called after her.
Beth paused. ‘September thirty,’ she said, and went on her way, letting the door swing shut behind her.
The silence in Theatre Ten was deafening as a barrage of conflicting thoughts stampeded through Gabe’s head. Six months. Hell.
A month passed. Beth and Gabe were kept busy with their normal workload as well as the preparations for the separation. Things were initially a little awkward between them again but with their busy schedules and tacit agreement to focus on the twins, their professionalism came to the fore.
Their relationship continued to be that of colleagues. Mutual respect and consideration. In fact, at times it even bordered on friendship. But apart from the odd query after her health, Gabe didn’t refer to the pregnancy and there’d been no further discussion about the baby as preparations for the separation ramped up.
But one month shy of the scheduled operation Beth was woken at three in the morning by Gabe’s delicious accent. It was brisk and businesslike. No late-night lovers’ chat like the last time they’d spoken at this hour of the morning.
‘Brooke and Bridie have been admitted to the intensive care unit. Bridie had a prolonged seizure.’
Beth struggled through the layers of sleep, her heart pounding, and not just because of the unexpected turn of events. ‘Are we going in?’
‘Not yet. I’ll keep you posted.’
Beth stared at the dead phone for a few seconds before placing it back on its cradle. She fell back against the pillows, her brain kicking into overdrive, her heart beating crazily. Were they ready for this? Had they practised enough?
She placed a hand over her belly where Gabe’s baby was growing safe and well, knowing she’d slay a dragon for their unborn baby. She thought about June and Scott and suppressed the urge to get out of bed and rush to ICU to be with them. They had a very supportive family and Beth knew they’d be rallying around.
Oddly enough, she wanted to go to Gabe more. She knew how much he’d invested in this operation and how much pressure he was under to make it a third successful separation. She’d also seen how close he’d become to the Fishers, as they all had, and knew he’d be taking this development hard.
But, father of her child or not, they didn’t have that kind of relationship. In fact, they had gone to pains to maintain a professional distance and she wouldn’t ruin that by tearing up to the hospital in the middle of the night to hold his hand. She would see him tomorrow and in the meantime she’d go back to sleep.
Hopefully.
The next few days were fraught for the Fisher twins. Bridie was loaded with anti-convulsants but because the girls shared a blood supply through the intricate meshing of cranial vessels, that complicated things for Brooke.
Bridie went on to develop a pleural effusion and started to show signs of renal and liver impairment. Her blood pressure needed drugs to support it, a tricky balance for ICU doctors who had to consider
the effects on both girls.
Gabe was worried that Bridie might not make it, that she would die before separation, flooding her sister’s body with toxins that would give Brooke mere hours to live. With Bridie’s heart not the strongest, Gabe was reluctant to subject the smaller twin to the rigours of prolonged neurosurgery but he knew they were walking a fine line.
Beth visited regularly. It didn’t seem to matter what time she popped in, Gabe was always there. Standing with Scott and June, talking to the ICU doctors or consulting with other specialists. He was upbeat with the Fishers but she could tell he was tense and gravely concerned.
Two days later, Bridie’s condition worsened again, with the development of more seizures, and a joint decision was made to go ahead with the op. Gabe knew their hand was being forced but that was just the way it happened sometimes and no matter how much he would have liked both twins to be in optimum shape, life had thrown them a curve ball. He had to operate now or risk losing both of them.
He rang Beth again in the wee small hours. ‘We’re going in. How soon can we get the team assembled?’
Beth heard the slight huskiness in his voice and knew that Gabe wasn’t thrilled about the circumstances. She rubbed the lingering traces of sleep from her eyes her brain racing ahead. ‘A few hours.’
‘See you then.’
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS barely seven on Saturday morning as the team members required for the beginning of the operation assembled in Theatre Ten, waiting for the twins to arrive. Half of them had blue scrub tops and gowns, the other half green. Bridie’s team wore blue, Brooke’s green. They waited silently, rehearsing the steps in their head that they’d honed over the last few months.
The ten-strong anaesthetic team, led by Don Anderson talked quietly, going over their strategies to manage vital signs and minimise blood loss and the logistics of moving the babies once the separation was complete.
Beth scrubbed in, along with several other nurses, and oversaw the set-ups. Circulating nurses opened the mountains of sterile equipment that would be needed, passing them to the scrub nurses, who organised their trolleys methodically. She was hyper-aware of Gabe standing with the other scrubbed surgeons huddled around the numerous images, going over their last-minute plans.
