Back in Her Husband's Arms

by Susanne Hampton

  ‘That would be nice,’ Sara replied, with a curious frown. She watched as Christina slipped her bag over her shoulder and left.

  Sara waited until Christina was out of sight before she asked the questions niggling her to distraction.

  ‘Who’s Robert? And have I just interrupted your date?’

  ‘Date? With Christina?’ he said, glancing over to see his secretary leaving the hotel. ‘No, she just wanted to chat about a problem over a drink and get my take on it—some male advice, you could say. But why do you want to know about Robert?’

  ‘No reason,’ she lied. ‘Just curious.’ She hoped Robert was Christina’s brother or friend. It meant there was still room for Tom in Christina’s life.

  ‘Well, to answer your question, he’s her husband. He’s been away on business for a fortnight,’ Tom replied, quite happy that Sara cared.

  Sara’s face fell with disappointment. ‘So she has a husband yet she needs you to listen to her problems...?’

  Tom shot her a wry look. ‘She didn’t know how to break the news to her husband that she’d written off his uninsured Audi. But, come on, Sara, what’s prompted the twenty questions? This isn’t like you.’

  ‘Sorry, maybe I’m a bit stressed. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

  ‘Then let’s talk over dinner. What would you like? Chinese, Italian, seafood?’

  What would I like? I’d like Christina to be single. I’d like you and Christina to be having an affair. And I’d like her to want to marry you and, more importantly, you to want to marry her, giving me some perspective. I’d like to be able to say, and actually believe, that being around you for the next month will be easy. I’d like to rewind to a month ago and leave you outside my hotel room. I’d like my life to be as simple as it has been in Adelaide for the last three years.

  ‘Italian,’ Sara replied.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE WOOD OVEN baked pizza was delicious. Sara hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she found herself picking up the lonely mushrooms from the empty pizza tray.

  ‘I can order another one,’ Tom said drily. ‘And then maybe I’ll get a look-in.’

  Sara wiped the corners of her mouth with the napkin and sat back in the padded booth. She didn’t bother answering him. She had seen his hands moving as fast as hers back and forth from the tray.

  With a good sleep behind her and now a full stomach, Sara felt ready to sort out the working arrangements so they discussed the rosters, the patient load, the surgical amenities at the hospital and the general planning for the following month.

  When they had covered everything, Tom sat back in silence and sipped his drink. His eyes were focused on a spot somewhere in the distance. A place that was taking all his attention.

  Slowly he turned his face to hers. ‘I know I disappointed you, Sara. As a husband, that is, but I never misled you. I was upfront about the subject of children. I’m sorry that I can’t change my mind or give you the all the reasons for my decision. But I’ve never lied. I just needed to tell you that.’

  His sudden statement took her by surprise and added to the emotional see-saw that coming to Melbourne had created.

  ‘I’m sure you had your reasons, just as I have mine. I suppose we should have discussed it all before we married, not after.’

  Sara drew breath and with it came a calmer and more resigned disposition. She had to keep emotion out of the equation. She wanted more than Tom would ever be prepared to give. And it had hurt her that he had never been prepared to consider children. She wanted all the joy a family brought, and that money and a career could never replace. The happiness of a child being given a puppy, the first artwork they brought home from school, the cuddle at the end of a day just before they fell asleep. She felt a maternal longing that with each passing year became more difficult to fight.

  ‘I want to hear their laughter, to feel their hugs, to tuck them into bed at night. We’re two people with very different priorities. You and your brother have so much in common. You both choose a career over having children. Clearly you have goals you wanted to reach. Becoming associate professor is a huge step and probably not one that would have been easy to achieve with a house full of children. I get it. Really, I do. Your career is your focus and there’s no room for anything else.’

  ‘Having a child is not the be-all and end-all...’ He faltered, then dropped his gaze without finishing the sentence.

  ‘Not to you, but to me it is,’ she said with conviction. ‘I couldn’t give up on that dream.’

  Tom lifted his eyes again to study her face. He had always wondered what drove this need for children. He understood that the maternal instinct might kick in at a certain age. But it seemed more than this.

  Finishing his drink, he decided to ask that very question.

  ‘You know, I really do understand that most women like the idea of having babies and planning big Christmas dinners with the family and all of that,’ he said. ‘But with you it has always seemed like more. Am I reading too much into it, or am I right in thinking there is something else that drove you to walk away when I wouldn’t see it your way?’

  Sara wondered why it had taken Tom this long to ask that question. But she sensed it was that he hadn’t wanted to know before now. When they had been married and the subject of children had come up, he’d changed it very quickly. Knowing the truth behind her motivations, she suspected, may have put additional pressure on him to consider her reasons and, in turn, her feelings.

  ‘I just love children, I always have and always will,’ Sara began slowly. ‘And the idea of having to give that up would just mean that history was repeating itself. You already know the number of times in the past that I have had to give in to my parents’ wishes. Do what they wanted. Become who they wanted me to be. I do love them, but I had to put my life on hold so many times. It wasn’t always obvious, and I’m not sure if was even conscious on their behalf, but I would always end up feeling guilty if I forged ahead without their consent.

  ‘Even as a young child, I frequently had to give up on my own dreams to live theirs. Every time I showed free will, and they thought I might make a decision for myself, they had a way of making me think I was being selfish. But I take responsibility for my feelings. I should have stood up to them and told them I was my own person. It was almost like having my spirit killed with kindness. They were so protective but it was so stifling.’

  Tom listened intently. He suddenly felt guilty that he hadn’t asked this question before. It had clearly formed a huge part of her childhood.

  ‘So was medicine their dream or yours?’

  ‘No, fortunately my career was a mutual vision. I’m not sure what I would have done if they had wanted me to walk away from that. Perhaps it might have persuaded me to take a stand much earlier.’

  ‘This stand?’ Tom cut in, interrupting the story.

  ‘Yes, not to back down and feel guilty about wanting something for myself. I had always done what they expected, I think being an only child made me feel as if I owed them a great debt for bringing me into this world and I had to repay them. To be who they wanted me to be. At least, it always felt that way.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea.’ Tom looked at his hands absentmindedly and wondered what else he didn’t know about his wife.

  ‘In high school I was offered the opportunity to go to Germany for a six-month cultural exchange but my father told me that my mother was about to have more tests and he needed me at home to help take care of her in case the news wasn’t good.’

  Tom looked surprised to hear this. ‘But your mother is fine. Well, she was when we visited her a few years ago. Is she okay now?’

  ‘She’s perfectly healthy now but she suffered from benign fibroids and the doctor decided on a myomectomy to remove them. They knew it wasn’t a permanent
solution in the sense that fibroids can grow back after the procedure. I felt an enormous pressure on me to cancel my trip. I knew they needed me, I couldn’t abandon them...could I? The doctor did reassure them both that the condition and surgery wasn’t life-threatening but there was more going on than that.

  ‘I remember I wanted to head off with two girlfriends and backpack around Australia and maybe travel over to Italy and Greece after my final year at school. Well, let’s just say my friends had a wonderful time but all I saw of the outback and the Mediterranean was on their postcards. My mother’s hysterectomy had been scheduled during that time. Apparently my mother was one of the ten per cent that needed a second surgery. The trip had meant so much to me but I felt as if I had to give it up to keep them happy. Honestly, looking back, I don’t regret what I gave up, it meant starting my medical study early, but I do wish I had drawn a line in the sand a little earlier.’

  ‘But you all seemed to get on so well whenever I was there.’

  ‘By the time you met them, I’d achieved everything they wanted for me, and during my training I gained back some level of independence. I had proved that I could cope without them and, of course, that they could cope without me. Plus, they loved you, so they were happy with my choice. If they hadn’t liked you then I probably would have felt pressured to break up with you.’

  ‘And would you?’ he asked, looking intensely into her eyes.

  Sara swallowed. ‘They loved you, so that question is irrelevant.’

  Tom wasn’t satisfied. ‘That’s not an answer to my question, Sara.’

  Sara could feel her heart racing. She answered him honestly. ‘No, I wouldn’t have. I would have told them that being with you was something I wanted more than anything in the world, that it was my dream to spend the rest of my life with you and they would have to live with it.’

  Tom felt unashamedly happy with her answer but also immensely guilty. She would have fought for him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he realised what he had done to her. It was her dream to be a mother and she had been fighting him for that right. He had added to the conflicts of her childhood and tried to prevent her right to choose her own path.

  ‘So I was asking the same of you, to give up your dream of children.’

  Sara nodded, her heart heavy as she thought back to the sadness of their situation.

  ‘I suppose you thought I would soften to the idea,’ he told her. ‘Just as I hoped you would move on and be happy with only the two of us.’

  ‘I guess we rushed into our marriage and we paid for the mistake later,’ Sara replied.

  He sipped his drink and looked thoughtfully at Sara. ‘Perhaps we’re both still paying.’

  * * *

  The early morning wake-up call had Sara up and about by six. But it wasn’t a chore considering how many hours sleep she’d enjoyed. Probably more in the last twenty-four-hour period than in any other since she had chosen a career in oral surgery. And she had needed every minute of it.

  Tom had dropped her back at the hotel just before ten-thirty. They had gone by the practice and he had picked up the notes for the next day’s patients. Then, downstairs in a booth near the bar, he had gone over his major surgical list and explained the treatment plans. His work was as accurate and thorough as ever. Sara appreciated the long hours he must have spent to cover the caseload at his practice for both himself and Stu, to oversee the hospital in his new role as associate professor and still have such clear and precise details recorded. She was going to be able to take over without any disruption to the patients at all.

  Thankfully there were only consultations and minor surgical cases scheduled for the next two days, so she had time to familiarise herself with everything.

  After Tom had left, Sara had reviewed the next day’s patients, made her notes and finally given in to sleep at about twelve.

  Living in the hotel was not a viable situation. Later in the day she would have to make some calls and arrange a comfortable place that was a little more affordable. She would also have to arrange for someone to pack up the last of her belongings in Adelaide and have them sent on to Texas.

  As she pulled underwear from her suitcase and shuffled into the bathroom, her thoughts then wandered to Bonny. She prayed the child’s recovery would be easier now her father was with her. She’d often thought that she and Tom would one day have a daughter just like Bonny, and a son...or maybe two of each. Tom was right, she had tried to convince herself that in time he would change his mind about children and realise that they did have the capacity, in terms of time and love, required to raise a family. That their careers were important but the joy they would experience bringing up a child of their own was incomparable.

  But you were wrong, Sara admonished herself. He never wanted a child. He reiterated that tonight. So forget the past.

  She turned the shower taps on full and enjoyed the very long shower she had wanted the night before as she tried to put outdated dreams from her mind. And know that she was doing what was right for her.

  * * *

  ‘George Andrews was due at nine. Impressions for his wafer splint. His surgery is in just under two weeks,’ Marjorie, the receptionist, informed Sara. ‘But his mother just called. They’ve had car trouble and she’s called a taxi. They should be about another fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Sara replied with a smile.

  Marjorie was in her early sixties. Her hair was a deep auburn and cut short at the back with flattering soft curls around her forehead. She had a pretty face, with gold rimmed glasses perched on her bob nose. She was about the same height as Sara, just a little bigger in build.

  The pair had introduced themselves and as far as Sara could make out, she and Marjorie would get along just fine. The woman did not appear to be the prying type and, with everything on Sara’s mind, that was a huge relief.

  Sara asked Marjorie not to call her Dr Fielding. Her first name was fine and made her feel more relaxed. But the reason was two-fold. She thought it might also avoid a barrage of questions from patients about her relationship to the other Dr Fielding.

  Looking around the rooms, Sara couldn’t help but notice that everything had been completely revamped since she had left three years ago.

  She absentmindedly ran her finger over the frame of a painting that hung nearby. A beautiful watercolour of a blue kingfisher. It was new. Everything was new. There was no sign that she had ever been there. It was as if anything she had brought into the practice had disappeared and something else now stood in its place. She wondered if their marital home had been gutted in a similar manner. Had Tom sold her favourite pieces to the highest bidder? She blinked away her unanswered questions and turned her attention back to her surroundings. It was not her business. She had left and Tom did what he wanted. She knew she had no right to judge his actions.

  The decor was modern, painted in pastel tones and decorated with light-coloured wooden furniture that had a Scandinavian feel. The spacious waiting room had a large, low pine table covered in magazines, a mix of wooden and chrome chairs lined two walls and there was a wicker basket brimming with toys in the corner of the room. Something to keep little hands amused. Stu’s idea, no doubt, Sara surmised. Definitely not Tom’s.

  Overlooking the waiting room, Marjorie’s office was filled with enough computer equipment to run a small NASA project. Sara gently opened the adjoining door to find the fully equipped surgery for minor surgical procedures not needing a general anaesthetic.

  She knew that the kitchen and bathroom were located at the back of the rooms. The practice was on the first floor of a quaint old two-storey building that had been totally modernised inside, whilst retaining its exterior character. It was in South Yarra, overlooking the Yarra River. Sara had always loved the calming effect of the scenery.

  Melancholy drew her back to the view and she cross
ed in earnest to the large picture window. Sara sighed as she took in the vista. The day was cold but the sun was shining down and it was a nice change after the gale the day before. The gentle breeze played with the last of the red-gold leaves of autumn. Weeping branches of the willows dipped in the rippling water near the riverbank. The brown-speckled ducks swam around the row of paddleboats, which were tied together and bobbing with the current at the riverbank.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and recalled how a few years ago she and Tom had often stood at the same window. Sometimes they had been so immersed in each other’s presence they would barely notice the view. They would hold each other tightly and discuss their days. They understood and respected each other’s needs. Two tired bodies moulding as one...

  ‘Penny for your thoughts.’

  Sara jumped. She hadn’t realised how far her thoughts had travelled until the deep voice broke through.

  Tom’s voice.

  ‘Um, nothing, nothing at all,’ she returned, nervously straightening the lapels of her short navy trench coat and brushing imaginary lint from her matching skirt. ‘So, what brings you here? Don’t you have a hospital to take care of?’

  ‘Board meeting. I hate those damned things. It’s always the same old bickering about increased funding cuts, meaning fewer beds and fewer staff. So I sent Johnson to take notes. That should be eye-opening for everyone, Johnson and the board members.’ He smiled.

  Sara smiled back at him in silence then he noticed the softness suddenly turn to something more professional and reserved as she adjusted her jacket and moved away to the other side of the room.

  Tom looked at her, wishing things had been different. Wishing he was able to give her what she wanted and what she deserved in life. She wasn’t asking for the world and to any other man it would seem fair and natural to want children. But Tom couldn’t provide that. Fatherhood would never be a part of his life. He could accept it but it wouldn’t be fair to keep Sara in his self-imposed childless life so he had to keep his distance.