‘Really?’ Lincoln raised his eyebrow as he tried to control his temper at the sheer cheek of the man. ‘And what makes you think that’s your decision?’
‘I’m in charge of the security for the First Lady. Everything around here is my decision. And I don’t make compromises.’
Lincoln stepped forward until he was only inches from James’s face. ‘I don’t like what you’re inferring.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well, in that case show me your medical degree, Mr Turner. Because unless you’ve got one, I think you’ll find this is a medical decision—not a security decision.’
James scowled at him and shook his head. ‘Don’t make this into something it’s not, Dr Adams. This isn’t a medical decision, this is personal. Your lady friend turned up here to see you and blagged her way in. She shouldn’t be here and she’s compromising the safety of the First Lady and the First Daughter, so she has to go.’
Lincoln felt a red mist start to descend over his eyes. He jerked open the door of the filing cabinet and pulled Amy’s notes back out. He didn’t need to flick through them—by this point he knew them off by heart. ‘Let’s see. Ms Carson has protein in her urine, her blood pressure is above normal and pitting oedema is evident in her legs and abdomen. She is showing classic signs of pre-eclampsia.’ He slammed the notes shut. ‘She is at risk. Her baby is at risk. She didn’t blag her way in here, Mr Turner, she’s been admitted to this hospital because she’s sick.’
‘She can’t be sick here, it’s a security risk.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Is there a pecking order here? Did I imagine it or did the doctors here tell me that you pulled up outside with the First Lady in labour, with no warning, no prior planning? Did you get turned away? Is the First Lady’s baby more important than Ms Carson’s? Is that the way things have become in the US?’
James pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. ‘So transfer her.’
‘What?’
‘Transfer her somewhere else. They can look after her.’
The man was inhumane. Linc wondered if he was actually a machine. James was immune to anger—he obviously enraged everyone he came into contact with. It was time for a new angle. Lincoln took a deep breath and leaned against the filing cabinet. ‘Fine. But if she goes, I go. I’ve agreed to be her neonatologist. I need to be there when she delivers. And to be frank, I don’t care where that is. Make the arrangements, Mr Turner, let me know when we leave.’ He turned away and started walking down the corridor. He got six strides before he heard the voice behind him.
‘You can’t be serious.’
Linc turned back towards the incredulous voice. James had followed him along the corridor. ‘You’re going to walk away from the First Lady? It’s the best publicity you’ll ever get,’ he sneered.
Linc smiled. ‘And if you’ve done your homework, Mr Turner, you’ll know that I’m the doctor that doesn’t like publicity and doesn’t want it.’ He tilted his chin. ‘So what’s it to be, Mr Turner? Because I’m too tired to fight with you about it. Do you want to arrange the transfer or not?’
James hesitated for a second. Lincoln could see a tiny muscle twitching under his eye. He was furious and Lincoln couldn’t have cared less.
He let out a sigh. ‘Okay, she can stay.’
‘Finally, something we agree on.’ And before he could answer Lincoln walked into the on-call room and slammed the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
DAVID stood at the bottom of the bed, his forehead puckered with a frown. ‘Can you recheck her blood pressure manually, please?’ He nodded to one of the nearby nurses.
He scribbled something in the notes before giving Amy a little smile. ‘I’m a bit of a traditionalist.’ He gestured towards the monitor. ‘Some studies have shown that automated methods can underestimate systolic blood pressure, so I like it double-checked with a mercury sphygmomanometer. Trouble is, in the world of technology they can be hard to find these days.
He glanced back at Amy. ‘Yesterday’s blood results were fine, but I want to see what today’s are like.’ He lifted the bed covers and examined her legs and ankles, before unhooking the stethoscope from around his neck. ‘Can I take a listen to your chest, please?’
Amy nodded and leaned forward as he lifted her T-shirt, placing his cool stethoscope on her skin. ‘Take a deep breath, please.’
Amy breathed in and out slowly as the stethoscope moved from under her breast to her back.
The nurse appeared back at the door with a manual sphygmomanometer in her hand. She took a few seconds to wind it around Amy’s arm before inflating the cuff then placing the stethoscope inside her elbow. A few seconds passed before she released the valve and turned to David. ‘Same as the machine. One hundred and fifty over one hundred.’
David gave a sigh and stood back.
Lincoln appeared at the door. ‘Knock, knock.’ He walked into the room, ‘How are things, David?
‘Your friend Ms Carson is proving quite an enigma.’ He pointed at her chart. ‘Her blood pressure is still borderline despite her being started on anti-hypertensives yesterday. There’s still some protein in her urine. But her lungs are clear and her peripheral oedema seems to be improving.’
He turned back to Amy. ‘Any other symptoms?’
She shook her head.
‘Then we have a problem.’
‘What?’ Lincoln’s head shot upwards. ‘What do you mean, there’s a problem?’ He moved over to the side of the bed next to Amy.
David gave a little smile. ‘In normal circumstances, at this stage, I would probably ask Amy to rest at home and come into the hospital every day to be monitored.’
Lincoln’s brow wrinkled. ‘I don’t understand. What’s the problem?’
David gave his shoulders a little shrug. ‘It’s my understanding that Amy doesn’t stay around here. I can’t exactly send her home and ask her to come in every day for monitoring if she lives four hours away.’
Amy nodded her head in relief. Thank goodness. For a second there her heart had been in her mouth—she’d wondered what David was about to say.
‘But isn’t it best she stays here if she’s at risk of pre-eclampsia?’ Lincoln looked agitated.
David shook his head. ‘Not at this stage. Her symptoms aren’t severe. Her blood pressure is still borderline and we’ve started her on some treatment.’ He gave Amy a serious look. ‘However, you still require careful assessment, daily blood and urine tests, and blood pressure monitoring. We also need to keep a close eye on you to ensure you don’t develop any other symptoms.’
Amy gave him a smile. ‘So what do you suggest, Dr Fairgreaves?’
‘I suggest I give you a little more freedom.’
Amy’s smile broadened. ‘That sounds good.’
David gave a final glance at his chart. ‘For the moment I’m going to recommend your blood pressure is monitored four-hourly. I’m still recommending rest for you. But I don’t think a gentle walk outside in the fresh air will cause you any problems.’ He gave Lincoln a little nod. ‘Providing, of course, you have some supervision.’
Lincoln nodded his head in agreement. ‘I think I can manage that.’
‘I thought you might.’ David touched Amy’s shoulder. ‘I’ll come back and review things later once your blood test results are available. In the meantime, enjoy the sunshine.’
David turned and walked out the door, leaving Lincoln and Amy staring at each other.
‘I don’t know if I’m happy about this.’
‘What’s wrong, Linc, scared to take a girl to lunch?’
Linc folded his arms across his chest. ‘You make that sound like a challenge.’
‘It was. I know you won’t be able to resist. Yo
u were always a sucker for a challenge.’
His eyes went over to the nearest window. In the last seventy-two hours all he’d seen of Pelican Cove had been the inside of this hospital. White walls and pale grey floors. The thought of getting out into the sunshine and down onto the nearby beach definitely appealed. Fresh air and the smell of the ocean, just like back home at Fisherman’s Wharf. He couldn’t think of anything better. Amy looked as if she could do with a change of scenery too. Being hospitalised was enough to send anyone crazy. He gave her a wink. ‘I have a baby to check on. I’ll be back for you in an hour.’
* * *
Lincoln picked up baby Esther from the crib in NICU. She opened her pale blue eyes and scowled at him, her tongue automatically coming out and lapping. He sat down in the nearby chair and picked up her chart. ‘Hungry again, little lady? How about trying to latch onto your mom?’
Val appeared at his side. ‘She’s still being a little madam. We’re trying to get her to latch on every time she’s due a feed. But she’s still not managing.’
Lincoln ran his fingers over the thick dark hair on her head, checking her fontanel, laughing as her tongue came out again. ‘Let’s take you to Momma and see how you do.’
He went into the room next door where Jennifer was lying on her bed, staring out the window. She sat up as soon as Lincoln came in carrying her daughter.
‘Hi, Dr Adams. Is my girl looking for food again?’ Jennifer swung her legs out of the bed and moved over into the nursing chair, settling a pillow on her lap and holding her arms out to take Esther. She arranged Esther comfortably and lowered her nursing bra to reveal her dark nipple, and spent the next few minutes trying to get Esther to latch on. Lincoln moved over to her side. ‘Would you like to try another position?’
Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘What do you suggest? I’ve tried the cradle hold, the cross cradle hold, the football hold and the side-lying position. If you’ve got any others, feel free to tell me.’
Lincoln put his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. ‘I know this is hard, Jennifer, but just persevere. Every time she’s due to feed, put her to the breast and eventually her sucking reflex will kick in. Look at the way she’s extending her tongue. She’s doing really well with the cup feeding and she’s almost regained her birth weight. She’s only lost a few ounces—that’s really good for a premature baby.’
He watched as Esther wrinkled her nose and started to wail in frustration, one little arm escaping from her blanket and pushing upwards. ‘Here,’ he said, taking her from Jennifer and wrapping her firmly in the pale pink blanket again. ‘Let’s try again for a few more minutes and if it doesn’t work, I’ll go and get you some of the milk you expressed earlier.’
Jennifer nodded and sat patiently while Lincoln tried to help her latch baby Esther onto her breast. After a few false starts Esther eventually tipped her head backwards and enclosed her mouth around her mother’s nipple, but only for a few seconds.
Jennifer gave an exasperated sigh. ‘No one tells you it’s going to be this hard.’
Lincoln nodded. ‘It is hard.’ His eyes had a knowing glint in them. ‘And although I’ve had no personal experience, from what I hear, when it does work nothing can compare.’ He fixed her with one of his dazzling grins.
Jennifer shook her head. ‘You’re an incorrigible flirt, you do know that, don’t you?’
Lincoln rolled his eyes. ‘Me?’ He pointed at his chest in mock horror. ‘Never.’
She sighed. ‘You are. There should be a licence against men like you. You’re all big blue eyes and movie-star smiles. The nurses around here are practically falling on their feet around you. How many nurses’ numbers have you got in your phone?’
Lincoln had the good grace to look embarrassed. ‘None. Well—none from Pelican Cove,’ he added. ‘Anyway, Val and Ruth don’t give me a second glance.’
She laughed. ‘That’s because they know you. They’ve obviously developed an immunity to you. It’s all those other poor souls that haven’t met you before I feel sorry for.’
She looked at him carefully. ‘You don’t even know you’re doing it, do you?’
Lincoln gave a shrug and picked up one of her apples from the nearby fruit bowl, taking a big bite through the green skin. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He gave her a few seconds to think, as he looked around the room. Presents for the baby had been arriving from all around the world.
‘Looks like you’re going to need a room just for the presents soon.’
Jennifer looked embarrassed. ‘Yes, I know. They’ve come from everywhere. There’s no way in the world I’ll be able to use all of this. If I’d been in Washington, one of my aides would have taken a note of them all, so we can send thank-you notes.’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘But I had a bit of temper tantrum and insisted all the aides leave. And I haven’t had time to even look at most of them. I’m sure I can find a good home for some of these things.’ She picked up the nearest parcel, with beautifully knitted matinee jackets in white and pink. ‘What about the NICU? You work in there, Lincoln, could they use some of these?’
He gave her a smile. ‘I’m sure we could. San Francisco has lots of families that need some support. Our unit often has to do fundraising so all donations are gratefully received.’
Jennifer eyes swept over the room. ‘I’ve no idea what kind of thing would be best for your unit. Do you want to give me a list?’ She pointed towards the door, where the latest pile of parcels had just been delivered. ‘And I’m terrified in amongst all this stuff there’s going to be a present from my Great-Auntie Bertie that I’ll miss, or something from my third cousin twice removed.’
Lincoln laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Maybe it’s time to relent and tell James Turner you want one of your aides back. These presents look like a full-time job.’
Jennifer frowned. ‘They do, don’t they.’ She bent her head as she adjusted her daughter in her arms. ‘And to be honest, I want to spend my time concentrating on Esther.’
‘That’s the way it should be.’
Jennifer looked up again. ‘If there’s anything you want to take in the meantime—I mean, if there’s anything you think the people in Pelican Cove might need—just take it.’ She waved her arm, ‘It’s not like I’ll miss it.’
Lincoln gave a wry grin. ‘Actually, there is something, but it’s not what you think.’
Jennifer raised her eyebrow in interest. ‘Really? Now, that sounds fascinating. What is it?’
Lincoln bent over and picked up a battered sunhat from beside the bed. ‘Can I borrow this? I’m taking a friend for lunch and I think she might be a little unprepared. A sunhat would be perfect.’
A knowing smile spread over Jennifer’s face. ‘Would that sunhat be for a pregnant pale-skinned redhead?’
Lincoln started. ‘How on earth…?’
She tapped the side of her nose. ‘I’m the First Lady, Linc. I know everything.’ She laughed. ‘Actually, does she need some maternity clothes? I’ve got a whole wardrobe full that I won’t need. Help yourself.’ She pointed to the wardrobe in the corner of the room.
Lincoln wrinkled his nose. He hadn’t even thought about clothes. And truth be told, Amy probably needed more than a sunhat. Would she be offended if he took her some of the First Lady’s maternity clothes? No. He didn’t think so.
He gave a little nod. ‘Actually, that might just be perfect. Now, let’s see if we can get Esther latched on again.’
* * *
Amy was sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing the same white smock top and maternity jeans she’d had on three days ago when she’d been admitted. Her eyes widened in shock as Lincoln burst through the door, having changed into jeans and a T-shirt, his arms jammed with clothes, which he dumped on the bed next to her.
‘What on earth…?’
‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I was checking on the First Baby and Jennifer asked if you’d like some of her maternity clothes. She says she won’t be needing them any time soon. I hope you don’t mind—I said yes on your behalf. I wasn’t sure if you’d brought any more clothes with you.’ Lincoln held his breath. Had he just committed a huge female faux pas?
Amy turned and looked at the pile of clothes next to her, fingering the expensive fabrics of the designer clothes. ‘Wow!’ she whispered, as she took in the wide range of styles and colours. Her dark green eyes turned to Lincoln, who breathed a huge sigh of relief. She wasn’t angry. Instead, she looked like a child in a sweetie shop. ‘She said I could have all these?’
Lincoln nodded and shrugged his shoulders. ‘She wanted someone else to have the use of them. She thought you were probably the same size as she is.’
Amy nodded and picked up a summer dress embroidered with tiny flowers. She held it up next to her. ‘What do you think Linc?’
‘Will it go with this?’ He held up the battered summer hat. ‘This is what I originally asked for—thought you might need it out there.’ He pointed out the window at the blistering sunshine. ‘Looks like we’re in for a scorcher.’
Amy was rummaging through the clothes on the bed and pulled out a pale green bolero cardigan to match the summer dress. ‘Perfect!’ she exclaimed, before heading off to the bathroom. ‘Just give me a few minutes until I get changed.’
‘Take all the time you need,’ murmured Lincoln at her retreating back. This was the Amy he knew. Happy and bubbling with excitement. When had the last time been he’d seen her like that?
A vision from the night before flashed in front of his eyes. Images of a beautiful redhead with seduction in her eyes. And he quickly shook it off. This was Amy Carson—friend. Not Amy Carson—former lover. He had to keep things amicable between them. More importantly, he had to keep his mind from wandering.
Amy pushed open the bathroom door, a broad smile across her face. ‘Well, Linc, what do you think? Do I look like First Lady material to you?’ She swished her flouncy dress, which came to just above her knees, from side to side.
West Wing to Maternity Wing! Page 8
