‘Has your father agreed to this? He is, after all, my employer—not you!’
‘Actually he’s not. I am. You see, your talk with him this morning about how great he was as a mentor made him decide to retire and consult part-time at the university. He’s asked me if I want to take over the practice. You have put me in the difficult position of uprooting my life in Sydney to relocate permanently to Adelaide, or watching him sell up. That is a lot of pressure that prior to your little chat wasn’t even on his radar.’
‘Stop being so angry! I’m sure it must have been on his mind, and it’s wonderful news. It means you’ll be near to your family and Oscar can see them...’
‘Oscar is not your concern. You seem to be intent on changing everything about us. You want us to be one big happy family. Your way. That is not my way—and, again, if family is so important why is yours on the other side of the world? A little hypocritical, don’t you think?’
The fairytale had just ended. He knew that a broken heart and humiliation had sent her away from her hometown and he was making her suffer both again.
He had played her for a fool.
‘There’s no need to come into work again. I’ll cover your patients and pay you out for the rest of your contract.’
Phoebe didn’t answer him. She didn’t want his money. She had wanted his love and she’d thought she’d almost had it.
Refusing to respond to the words he had delivered in such a callous tone, she opened the front door, signalling him to leave. Her heart was breaking as she watched the man who had just shattered her belief in happily-ever-after walk past her. He suddenly looked different to her. Handsome, still—but so cold. She was looking through a filter of disappointment and pain. The rose-coloured glasses lay shattered in a million invisible pieces. Heath would never look the same as he had that morning, when she’d woken in his arms.
‘Please say goodbye to your father and Oscar.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘WHY ARE WE replacing Phoebe?’
‘She’s gone to Melbourne. She’s taken up an offer with another practice. It’s larger and it has a sports focus. You knew with her qualifications that it was always a risk she would move on.’
Ken searched Heath’s face for a more substantial answer. ‘Just like that? No notice? Phoebe’s just upped and left us? That doesn’t sound like Phoebe.’
‘Well, I guess you never really knew her, then, did you,’ Heath returned.
His anger wasn’t towards his father—it was at himself and at Phoebe. He was battling his own feelings about what he had done. And about what she had told him about himself.
‘How can you think you know someone in not much more than a few weeks?’
‘I knew I was going to marry your mother after one week,’ Ken said in a calming tone as he patted Heath gently on the shoulder. ‘Some people you just know. And I thought Phoebe was one of those people....’
‘She wasn’t, was she?’
‘There you go—getting all uppity again. I mean, what on earth makes a woman leave without any warning when only a few days ago she was happily accompanying Oscar to the museum without showing any hint of a woman about to defect. Not to mention I know you two were getting close. Perhaps think through what has happened, Heath. See if there isn’t something you want to do or say to make her rethink her decision.’
Heath’s jaw tensed as he recalled the visit that had triggered his need to send Phoebe packing. He couldn’t allow a woman to get that close again. He might learn to depend on her and so might Oscar. It would turn them into a family. And then if something happened—if she left, how would he be able to pick up the pieces? He had been fooling himself to think she would stay forever. Her family, her life, they were in America. The letter was just a wake-up call and he felt grateful to have found it.
And even if she wanted to remain in Australia permanently, there was Christmas to consider. She loved everything about it with a passion equal to how much he hated it. Christmas was too painful and it always would be. Christmas belonged to Natasha and it had died with her. He couldn’t bring it back to life. A piece of him had died that day, and he had tried but he just couldn’t feel any joy about it. He couldn’t be happy about a day that had ripped his world in two. He couldn’t join the rest of the world in their merriment and trivialise Natasha’s passing.
Phoebe would never understand. Just as his family never would. There was no one in the world who could understand.
Christmas was just too hard. He owed it to the woman who had given her life for Oscar to have more respect than to move on.
Before he’d met Phoebe his loyalty to Natasha had not been tested. But the moment Phoebe had fainted and he’d looked into her beautiful eyes as they’d opened Heath had been painfully aware that she would test him more than any woman ever had. Or ever would. But he wouldn’t let himself fall in love with Phoebe. He had enjoyed her company, and against his better judgement he had slept with her. But falling in love was not on the table for him.
He had to be the father to Oscar that Natasha would have wanted. And he had to keep his heart locked away. And he couldn’t do that if she stayed any longer. She was too easy to fall in love with. That was painfully obvious.
There was nothing he could do or say to Phoebe. He had to push her away. It was best for all of them this way.
* * *
Heath had patients on the two days since he and Phoebe had parted and each day he woke with less enthusiasm than the last. Tilly said nothing, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was just as disappointed as Ken—and a little more suspicious.
‘Your three o’clock cancelled, but your four p.m. wanted an earlier time, so I’ve moved Mrs Giannakis forward. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes. And I’ve rescheduled Phoebe’s patients. You’ll be working late tonight to get through them all, but they’ve been great and very understanding about the changes. You’ve obviously got a double patient load now, but I’ve been in contact with Admissions at the Eastern and we’ve worked out the surgical roster to make sure that no one is inconvenienced too much by Phoebe’s sudden departure.’
‘Good,’ he responded, without making eye contact.
‘You might have to put in a Saturday next week to do the interviews for her replacement. Dad did the shortlisting last night—there’s three of them. I’ll email them today, if you’ll agree to do it on the Saturday. I don’t think there’s any other way. I can mind Oscar, so you and Dad can both be here.’
Heath shrugged. His mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t even considered the interviews that needed to be set up. He had informed his father, who had obviously passed on the news to Tilly, but he hadn’t put any more thought into it. His father must have moved on things very quickly. Which was best, since Heath’s mind was on Phoebe. And on Natasha. And the mess he had made of everything.
Getting too close to Phoebe had been a huge mistake for both of them.
‘I must say I didn’t see it coming.’
‘What?’
‘Phoebe doing a runner. She didn’t seem the opportunistic type. I know working for a huge podiatric practice with elite sportsmen and women is a great break, but the Phoebe I know would have given more notice and definitely not run off without saying goodbye. She seemed...’ Tilly paused for a moment and put down her pen. ‘I don’t know—a better person, and more grounded than that. She actually seemed to like us, odd as we are, and I know Oscar liked her a lot. It’s sad, in a way, and I’m surprised.’
‘She doesn’t owe us anything. She’s from the other side of the world and she needs to make the most of these offers. We’re just a small show in a small town. Why wouldn’t she want to take up an offer like that?’
Heath knew as the words fell from his lips that Phoebe would never have run off for a better opportunity. He had forced her to take it.
‘Perhaps there’s more to it. Dad thinks there is.’
‘You both need to get over it,’ he said tersely as he looked over his day sheet, ticking off those patients he had already seen. He had to end the conversation. It made him uncomfortable and brought up feelings he needed to put to bed. ‘There’s nothing more.’
* * *
‘So, Mrs Giannakis, how are you feeling today? I can see here that it’s been two weeks since your surgery.’
As he slowly led the woman down to his consulting room and closed the door behind them Heath noted the relative ease with which she was walking for only two weeks post-surgery. Phoebe’s surgical intervention had obviously gone well.
‘It’s still sore, Dr Rollins, but I can tell that it’s improving a little every day,’ she told him as she took a seat. ‘Dr Johnson did a wonderful job.’
‘Yes, Dr Johnson is a great surgeon,’ Heath replied as he loosened the woman’s padded space boot then slipped on some surgical gloves before he began to gently unwrap the bandage to reveal the site of the surgery. He admired the minimal surgical entry point and the exactness of the stitches.
‘And she’s so lovely. What a sweet disposition and bedside manner she has,’ Mrs Giannakis said as she leant over to look down and watch Heath’s examination.
‘Yes,’ he responded as he moved her foot slightly to check the return of flexibility.
‘I recommended her to my niece last week. Stephanie’s a professional netballer and she’s always complaining about pain in her feet. She’s seen a few specialists, but doesn’t seem to be getting it sorted, so I wanted her to see Dr Johnson—but now Tilly’s told me she’s gone.’
‘I’d be happy to see your niece,’ Heath told her matter-of-factly.
‘Of course,’ Mrs Giannakis replied, still looking down at her foot and the slight mauve bruising. ‘I’ll still be recommending the practice, Dr Rollins, but I thought that being another young professional woman they would hit it off. And I know you would very quickly have found a large sporting clientele with Dr Johnson here.’
* * *
The rest of the day went similarly, with Heath seeing a number of Phoebe’s patients and all of them speaking highly of her and their physical response to surgery testimony to her skill.
Heath wished his life was different, so that his reaction to Phoebe could be different. He felt powerless to change the way everything had turned out. He wished the manner in which he had ended things had been better, but that could only have happened if they had never become involved.
But they had.
She was irresistible and he’d overstepped the mark. He was angry with himself for leading her on. For letting her believe that there could be more, if that was what she was wanting. In hindsight, he hadn’t set the boundaries early on, the way he did with other women. He had let his desire cloud his reasoning and rushed into something that would never last.
Could never last.
He wanted to turn back the hands of time to their meeting and not look into her beautiful eyes when he held her. He should have treated her as a patient who had fainted, checked her vital signs and not looked further. But he had, and he’d seen the most gorgeous woman. And then he’d got to know her more over iced coffee and realised that there was so much more to this slurping princess. She was warm, and sweet, and intelligent, and skilled. And then, when he’d taken her to bed...he’d lost his mind and his heart.
He would regret everything that had followed for ever.
* * *
Heath headed home, trying not to look in the direction of Phoebe’s house. He took a longer, more roundabout route to avoid driving past the place where she had lived for those few weeks. He couldn’t risk his reaction. What if her suitcases were being loaded into a cab? Would he screech to a halt and pull them from the trunk? Then pull her to his body, claim her lips with his and never let her go?
He couldn’t. They had too many unresolved differences. Differences that they could never move past.
He turned left down another side street to take him around the square where she’d lived. Had she left? Would he be faced with a darkened house? Would he slow his car, look at windows with no soft glow from the lamps, and know that the love and warmth was gone?
With a deep breath he left the city and headed along the main road to his father’s house. Back to his son.
* * *
Heath needed to travel to Sydney to give notice formally to the hospital there. He owed them that. He knew they would understand his need to take over his father’s practice, but he wanted to let the Associate Professor and the hospital board know personally.
His flight left early in the morning and he planned on staying overnight. Tilly was happy to look after Oscar for the night.
He travelled light and the meeting went smoothly. While disappointed to lose his expertise, the Associate Professor and the board wished him well. There was little to do but return to Adelaide.
He didn’t feel like socialising into the early hours with his peers over drinks, so he enjoyed dinner with three close friends and then caught an eight-thirty flight back to Adelaide. By nine he was at his father’s front door.
As he opened the door he noticed that there were no lights on in the living room or out on the patio. He assumed his father had gone to bed early. As he walked past his room he could see a faint glow from under the door. It flickered like a candle. Why on earth, he wondered, was his father in bed with a candle burning?
He opened the door quietly, in case he had fallen asleep. He intended on putting out the candle for safety’s sake.
What he didn’t expect to see was a woman with grey hair cuddled up beside his sleeping father. Then he recognised her. It was Dorothy Jamieson from down the street. She had been a friend of the family for many years. Her husband had died almost ten years ago.
‘Don’t worry, Heath, I’ll put the candle out before I fall asleep,’ she said quietly.
* * *
Heath was having breakfast the next morning when his father walked out very sheepishly. There was no sign of Mrs Jamieson.
‘And you were planning on telling me about this little fling when, exactly?’
‘It’s not a little fling, Heath. Dorothy and I have been together for three years now.’
‘Three years? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I was scared you wouldn’t approve. You hadn’t moved on from Natasha—in fact I know you still haven’t. I didn’t want to make you feel that I had forgotten your mother. I haven’t, and I never will, but being alone won’t bring her back to me. I have fallen in love with Dorothy and she loves me. We still have so much of our lives to enjoy. And we want to do it together.’
‘So the trifle was made by Dorothy?’
‘Yes. She knows I love her trifle, and she wanted to have an excuse to see me while you were staying here. I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow, so I asked her to stay the night.’
‘So you told me what I wanted to hear?’
‘Perhaps. Don’t be cross.’
Heath looked at his father and wondered if what Phoebe had said was the truth. ‘Does Oscar want a Christmas tree?’ he asked.
‘Yes, he’d love one but he knows that Christmas makes you sad. So he won’t ask for one.’
Heath collapsed back into his chair. Phoebe was right. Everyone was telling him what they thought would make him happy. He had made them into something they weren’t and forced them to keep secrets from him.
He hated himself for what he had done. To his family and to Phoebe. She had been the bravest of all. She had stood up to him and told him what he needed to hear.
And he’d punished her for it.
* * *
‘Anyone home?’ Tilly asked as she stepped inside the front door with Oscar in to
w.
Heath walked out to greet them. He was still in shock, and feeling more and more by the minute that he had lost the strongest, most wonderful woman he would ever meet.
‘Hi, Daddy.’ Oscar clapped his hands excitedly and ran to greet his father.
Heath picked him up and hugged him, then kissed his forehead. ‘Did you have a nice night with Aunty Tilly and Uncle Paul?’
‘Yes—but when is Phoebe coming over again? I miss her. I want to play Snap with her—and maybe we could go to the museum again or the pool. She’s fun. I really like her. Don’t you like her too?’
Heath’s heart fell instantly as he listened to his son and studied the expression on his face. He lowered the little boy to the floor and took his hands in his. He wished he could give him the answer he wanted. But he couldn’t. It was complicated in an adult way that Oscar would never understand.
He had broken the heart of a special woman. Phoebe was gone and she wasn’t coming back. She would never be back to play Snap with Oscar again. Nor would they go to the pool or the museum. Heath had sent her away. Selfishly and blindly. For reasons that Oscar wouldn’t understand.
‘Phoebe’s gone away to work.’
‘When’s she coming back?’ Oscar asked, with his big brown eyes searching his father’s face for the answer. ‘I can do some drawings for her. Can you post them to her? Then she’ll miss us and come back.’
Heath sat down and put his son on his lap. He knew the answer would not make him happy, but it was for the best. For everyone.
‘Phoebe’s not coming back, Oscar.’
‘She’s never coming back?’
‘No, she needed to go away quickly.’
Heath saw his little boy’s eyes grow wider, a little watery, and his lips tilt downwards.
‘Too quickly to say goodbye to me?’
‘Yes.’
A Mommy to Make Christmas Page 15
