Midwife's Baby Bump

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Midwife's Baby Bump Page 12

by Susanne Hampton


  Flick did just that. She went into her luxurious en suite bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She shook her head as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Then she looked down at her ample cleavage. It wasn’t fair. All her life she had been an A-cup and now it was as if her tummy and breasts were in competition. And her breasts were winning. They were huge by her standards and that was making her feel sexy and desirable. And being in his house wasn’t making it any easier. Everything was conspiring to turn her into an emotional mess. She wondered if Tristan had any idea that a pregnant woman who didn’t want to be in the same room with him only a week ago was now fighting her desire to sleep with him. And she couldn’t blame it on pregnancy hormones alone. Unfortunately for Flick, there was more to it than that.

  She had moved into his spare room so there was little space between them. Between the new living arrangements, feelings she had for him that had never gone away and her fluctuating hormones, her life had become very complicated.

  ‘There’s salmon and lettuce, egg and mayo or cold cut meat and mustard.’

  Flick was hungry and the sandwich choices Tristan was listing sounded lovely. Anything to pull her back down to earth.

  ‘Lunch looks amazing. Thank you so much for going to the trouble.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do for you. You’ve been through a tough few weeks of morning sickness. And our miscommunication added to your stress. I’m just glad it’s over and you can start to feel back to normal and prepare for the birth.’

  Flick smiled but she felt anything but normal. Tristan was being gallant and hospitable and she wanted so much more. It was only day one and she was struggling to keep to the rules that she had written. He had delivered suitcases to her room and offered to make lunch. If his home was a hotel, her thoughts were tantamount to wanting the ridiculously handsome concierge and the equally attractive chef. She had to snap out of it for everyone’s sake.

  She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she sat at the table and finished two sandwich halves without taking breath. It also helped to distract her from him being so close.

  ‘Delicious,’ she remarked, sitting back in her chair and feeling a little guilty for barely acknowledging Tristan between bites. She also realised it was almost a week without morning sickness.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ he told her, with a smile dressing his chiselled face. ‘I made enough so you can graze during the afternoon.’

  Tentatively she reached for another egg and mayo half. ‘If you ever grow tired of surgery, you could definitely open a sandwich bar.’

  He grinned. ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’

  They enjoyed each other’s company through lunch and then, after cleaning up and putting the leftovers in the refrigerator for Flick to nibble on later, Tristan excused himself as he had an afternoon of consultations back at the hospital.

  ‘Please, make yourself at home,’ he said, as they made their way to the spacious living room. ‘Because this is your home, for as long as you and the baby would like to be here with me.’

  Felicity felt her pulse quicken with his words. She knew that for Tristan it was the baby bringing them together and she didn’t try to fool herself into believing he saw more than that. It felt nice but it wasn’t real. He was charming and funny and she enjoyed being with him but she had to remind herself it wouldn’t lead anywhere. They had fun and she knew living together would not be difficult as long as she kept her feelings under control. Tristan obviously had no residual emotions from their night together and she had to get to the point that she could say the same. She hoped in time her romantic daydreams would be a distant memory.

  ‘I might stay in and watch a movie or read since I have the next two days off.’

  ‘My movie library is sadly lacking in chick flicks but I have cable so you should find something to keep you amused until I get home, and then I can bore you with my day. That will send you running to the hills in no time.’

  Flick laughed as he collected his belongings and made his way to the door. So quickly she felt like part of an old married couple the way he spoke and the plans he made for coming home to her. It tugged at her heart that they were just playing house and there was nothing deeper or more lasting than that.

  ‘Have a restful afternoon and I’ll see you tonight,’ he said, and winked just before he closed the front door, leaving Flick lying on the sofa inside. It felt strange but good to hear Tristan bid her farewell and know he would be back with her in a few hours. She stopped herself for wishing for more. It wasn’t about to happen, he was just trying to make the best of an awkward situation. And for that she was grateful. For all three of them.

  She looked down at her stomach and smiled. ‘Your daddy is a good man, my love.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE DAY HAD caught up with Flick and she hadn’t even switched on the television before her head rested against the oversized cushions and sleep forced her eyes to close. The room was warm. Tristan had stoked the fire before he’d left and the logs were burning slowly and keeping the air toasty.

  When she finally woke almost two hours later, she ventured back into the kitchen and took another sandwich from the refrigerator. The baby was indeed hungry, she told herself. It definitely wasn’t for her. She could never normally eat the amount she was consuming now. She wondered if the baby would grow into a weightlifter with the amount of food she was needing to satisfy her appetite.

  Once she had finished what she reminded herself firmly was the last sandwich for the day, she began wandering around the living area. It was beautifully furnished. Elegant and timeless and not overly masculine, which surprised her. She had assumed that it would be decorated more in line with bachelor appeal. Instead, she found it had a lovely family ambience. The rain began to fall and she could hear it on the iron roof. Looking around the house from her vantage point, she thought the only thing missing was a cat by the fireplace.

  As if on cue, she saw a large ginger cat rush to the white French doors in the kitchen and rub its body the length of the glass as it stared at her. She’d had no idea that Tristan had a cat but didn’t want the poor creature to get wet and cold so she crossed to the door and unlocked it. The moment the door was opened, the large Persian rushed past Flick without showing even a hint of gratitude and made a beeline for the rug in front of the fire.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Flick said as she closed the door against the bitterly cold breeze and made her own way back to the living room. The cat was busy grooming the water from her fur in the glow of the fire. She knew her way around and this confirmed Flick’s assumption that the cat belonged to Tristan, or, probably more accurately, Tristan belonged to the cat.

  Not knowing its temperament past selfish, Flick decided to let it settle in and went to her room and unpacked and put away her few belongings. Her few clothes looked a little silly hanging in the concert-hall-sized wardrobe, she thought as she closed the door and began to decorate the room with her framed photos and scented candles. Her household belongings were boxed up and placed in storage and the herb garden had been a parting gift to Mr Papadothomakos a few days before she left. He loved basil and oregano so he was thrilled and thanked her for being such a sweet tenant.

  ‘Not too many good girls like you around any more,’ he told her. ‘If I had a son, I would marry you two off. Too many young women nowadays, they bring different boys home every night but not you. You’re like my Effie. A good woman and you’ll make a good wife, Flick.’

  He didn’t know about the one boy she had brought home and the unexpected outcome of that. She had told him she was moving in with a work colleague closer to the hospital and he had no reason to doubt her. They left on good terms as she had been an exemplary tenant, paying her rent on time, never making a noise and, of course, not bringing boys home.

  Flick smiled as she wandered around, looking at the house that was now her home. The cat was sound asleep with its fur nicely dry and the fire crackling gently.

 
Three silver-framed photos on the mantelpiece caught her eye. Mindful that she did not disturb the cat, she crossed to look at them. There were two boys and a girl. They all looked about nine or ten years of age. One boy appeared to be Indian in heritage, with big brown eyes and a gorgeous toothy grin; the other boy, who she assumed to be Vietnamese, looked a little more serious with very neat straight black hair and his striped shirt done up at the collar; and finally she picked up the framed photograph of the little girl with exotic looks. Her wavy dark hair was softly pulled back from her face and she wore stunning hand-made jewellery around her neck and adorning her ears. Her simple white cotton dress looked as if she was going to church or a wedding. All of the children looked very happy and sweet.

  There were no other photos in the house but these obviously held pride of place. She reasoned they must be important to him, perhaps children of friends or children who had been his patients. She thought she would ask him when he returned from work but that was a few hours away so she decided to call Megan and give her an update. So much had changed in a week.

  ‘You’re living with him? In his house?’ Megan asked in disbelief at what Flick was telling her. ‘I thought you never wanted to see him again. I’m sure you used the word creep to describe him.’

  ‘No, that’s the word you used actually.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who said it, it was said because it was the truth,’ Megan argued. ‘What’s happened to make you want to move in with him?’

  ‘We talked. He’s not cold-hearted, it’s just that he isn’t the marrying kind. We had one night together and neither of us expected me to fall pregnant but he wants to do the right thing by me, and the baby. I can’t ask for more than that …’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Megan cut in. ‘You, my amazing sister, can ask for the world from any man and he should be willing to give it to you. I don’t understand the whole not the marrying kind. He’d be lucky to have you in his life. Don’t settle and don’t waste your time.’

  ‘I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing what’s right for all of us.’

  ‘I’m not sure if you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak,’

  ‘I’m hoping not, at least for our baby’s sake.’

  ‘So you’re sacrificing your happiness for your baby?’

  Flick closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Nothing I did would ever be a sacrifice, it would be what my baby deserves and nothing less.’

  ‘Wish our mother had thought that way for just one day when we were growing up,’ Megan said sadly. ‘Speaking of our mother, are you planning on telling her about the baby?’

  ‘Only when I have to,’ Flick admitted. ‘It will hurt too much to hear her tell me that I’m repeating her mistake.’

  ‘And how the child will ruin your life, just like we ruined hers?’

  Both sisters were silent for a moment. They each tried to be flippant but the pain of rejection when they’d been young was still raw.

  ‘I got a postcard from her,’ Megan finally managed.

  ‘Where is she?’ Flick asked, not overly upset she hadn’t received one.

  ‘Yours is probably on its way to your former apartment. It looks like she’s getting married tomorrow on the beach in Bali. Thanks for the invitation, Mum.’

  ‘But she met him less than two months ago.’

  ‘I know, and this would make it husband number four. I’ve lost count of the boyfriend tally,’ Megan said, her voice flat and drained of emotion and signs of caring. ‘The good thing is that no matter what happens with this doomed relationship we can’t be blamed or made to pay the price when it all comes unravelled. And we both know it will.’

  Flick sighed. ‘That’s the good side of getting older, we can see that all her failed relationships weren’t about children getting in the way, it was about her rushing in and choosing the wrong men.’ Flick stopped in midsentence. That was just what she had done. She had rushed into sleeping with Tristan. And now she was living with him. She suddenly felt a knot in her chest and an emptiness in her stomach with the thought she was her mother’s daughter.

  ‘I guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree …’

  ‘Don’t go there, you’re nothing like our mother!’ Megan cut in.

  ‘I got pregnant from a one-night stand … and now we’re shacked up. It sounds a lot like our mother.’

  ‘You would never dream of letting your child feel anything less than the most special little person in the world. I know you, and you’re the most loving, giving woman who would lay down her life without question for her child. Our mother wasn’t, and still isn’t, capable of that level of love and loyalty. It isn’t in her and you have it in spades. What you sacrificed for me over the years is ridiculous and I would need two lifetimes to repay you. And from what I’m hearing, you’ve put your needs aside so that your child will have both parents around. That’s not chasing a man, it’s being a wonderful mother.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  Megan spent the best part of ten minutes convincing Flick that she should never again compare herself to their mother. She appreciated the way her sister defended her but while she wasn’t convinced that she hadn’t repeated her mother’s behaviour in rushing in, she vowed she would stop any similarity there. The child she was carrying would be cherished and adored for life.

  ‘So the fur beast from next door conned its way inside, I see,’ Tristan said with a smirk as he looked at the cat sleeping by the fire when he arrived home, a little damp himself from the rain that was still falling.

  ‘Next door? I thought it belonged to you and it was pouring down outside.’

  ‘No, she wants to belong to me, and knowing the houseful of noisy children who live next door I don’t blame her. I provide a refuge or respite when it all gets too much but fur beast is trying to move in permanently, so I will only open the door for short visits.’

  Flick smiled but his words, however unintentional, hit a deeper chord in her. Allowing the cat to stay over was a kind gesture and she wondered if the same applied to her. Was he offering her refuge from the storm? Just a short stay for her too, so she shouldn’t get too comfortable?

  It was subtle analogy, and perhaps not intended, but it had been effective in unsettling her just a little. Perhaps she needed that, she thought. She didn’t want to get too settled as he might ask her to make her own way once the baby was born. She really couldn’t see past the next few months. She wished with all her heart that they would bring up their baby together in a loving home long term, but the reality for them was not that clear.

  ‘What gorgeous children you have in the frames on your mantel,’ she commented, passing over the minestrone soup she had cooked slowly on the stovetop during the afternoon. ‘Are they your friends’ children?’

  ‘That’s Aditya, Danh and Lucia,’ he told her as he reached for a piece of crusty bread. ‘They’re not children of my friends. They’re mine.’

  Flick nearly choked on her spoonful of soup. ‘Yours?’ she managed through the spluttering sounds. ‘I thought you spent your life avoiding commitment and more particularly children. Now you’re telling me you have three children. I’m just a little confused right now.’

  ‘Sponsor children,’ he said with one eyebrow raised. ‘It would have required affairs on three different continents to have fathered those children. I was a little busy with studying and my surgical internship ten years ago to have done that too.’

  Tristan had never imagined being a father in the true sense of the word but he loved children so this was his chance to watch and support these amazing little people grow into adults with his financial assistance. He felt they filled a void in his world and he hoped that he gave them something they all needed. One day he hoped to guide them into careers that would make a difference to them, their families and their communities. He had a sense of pride about their achievements and it was a feeling he cherished.

  Flick laughed nervously. ‘They’re truly gorgeous children.’


  ‘Inside and out, they’re wonderful children and a credit to their families. I’ve visited with all of them and they’re amazing, intelligent individuals. Lucia is almost ten and her family lives in Casa Grande in Peru, Aditya is twelve and his home is in Bombay with his grandmother and Danh is also twelve and he’s from Saigon, where he and his eight siblings live with their mother and elderly aunty. My sponsorship assists the families with day-to-day expenses and education. I live in a lovely home and have a great, albeit busy life, and I want to pay it forward. I’ve been sponsoring all three since they were only a few months old.’

  Flick smiled warmly at the man sitting opposite her. There was so much she didn’t know about him and so much she wanted to know. There was a genuine humanitarian side to him and there was fun and humour and so many wonderful qualities that she was discovering as they spent more time together. He was chivalrous and old-fashioned but she had also experienced a level of passion with him that she’d never dreamed possible.

  But he was also off limits. Not the marrying kind, she needed to remind herself as she looked into the warmth of his smiling eyes. Taking a little breath to steady her fluttering heart, she wondered what made him avoid commitment. What had happened in his past that prevented him from wanting to enjoy a long-term relationship? What allowed work to replace love of the lasting kind?

  She doubted she would ever know, so she accepted they would share a child and only memories of one night together. And she was trying her best to be okay with that. A happy life with a picket fence, husband and children was a dream she had held since she was a little girl. She had never been a part of something that perfect but it was what she had always wanted and now she knew it would never be hers.

  Being friends with the father of her child and a man she respected and cared about was better than the choices her mother had made.

  ‘Let’s head in and get comfortable in the living room,’ he suggested, as he stood and pulled out her chair.

  He made her feel special with little effort.

 

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