The Accidental Daddy

by Meredith Webber

  ‘Well, in that case, you should try even harder with the exercises,’ her smiling torturer told her. ‘Exercise is the best antidote to worry.’

  She was right, and Joey tried harder, concentrating on what were really very simple exercises, working up a sweat in the end. And when her mind strayed, it was to Max himself. To images of him—not the silly marriage business—and the images pushed her just that little bit further, made her work that much harder.

  She went back to her room, hoping she could have a quick shower before Max materialised in his usual fashion. This plan was thwarted by finding two friends sitting on her bed.

  ‘Lissa phoned us,’ one offered excitedly.

  ‘We peered into the special care unit on our way, but there were only three babies in there and all of them had a parent,’ the other said.

  ‘One of whom was a particularly attractive man who was holding his baby like it was the most precious thing on earth.’

  Her friends were talking over each other, but a parent by each crib?

  Max? Joey wondered. Holding Harry?

  ‘Harry’s due to have an op in the morning—they were doing tests and things on him when I was there, so they might have taken him off somewhere,’ she said, busying herself with the flowers they’d brought and unwrapping little gifts.

  Diverting them and herself with her appreciation of the gifts.

  ‘Oh, you’ve no idea how much I needed some hand cream—I packed in such a hurry I didn’t think of things like that.’

  She opened the tube, offered it around, then began smoothing cream into her hands.

  ‘And I brought body lotion that’s great for stretch marks,’ her other friend chimed in. ‘When Lissa told us about your contractions starting we guessed you’d have packed in a hurry. Now tell us all about it.’

  How could she?

  What to tell?

  How much?

  The uncertainty of her situation hit home once again.

  ‘Let’s go down to the café in the foyer,’ she suggested, aware the cause of that uncertainty could come wandering into her room at any moment. Her shower would have to wait. ‘They have great chai latte and as I’m still off coffee, it’s what I need.’

  Her friends were only too happy to accompany her, but the question of the future was looming large in Joey’s head. She couldn’t keep avoiding the truth about Harry’s parentage, but telling people opened up such a tangle of ifs and buts and maybes that right now she couldn’t begin to explain.

  ‘Hey, that’s the gorgeous man,’ one of her friends remarked as they caught a glimpse of Max coming along the corridor.

  Joey ushered them into the elevator, but this time her mind had picked up on her friend’s description.

  Gorgeous?

  And Lissa’s word had been mesmeric!

  Joey threw up an image of Harry’s father in her head—all too easy to do these days—and studied it. She’d registered attractive, liking his tall, loose-limbed figure, but then he’d just become Max.

  Did it matter that other women saw him the way her friends obviously did?

  It shouldn’t—

  ‘Hey, dreamy, we have to get off here unless you want to go back up.’

  The café was doing its version of a high tea, so they drank their tea and ate delicate little sandwiches and tiny morsels of cake, Joey keeping the conversation on the food and Harry’s problem and the operation—anything other than talk of her labour and the man who’d helped her through it.

  They sat on until the chimes sounded and she could walk her friends to the front door and out into the fresh air beyond. Guilt over what she was keeping from them wormed its way inside her. Although she knew when she did tell them, they would understand just how confused she was right now and empathise with the reasons for her silence.

  As long as she didn’t put off the telling for too long. But how long was too long?

  Until she had some idea of what the future held—Max or no Max—it was hard to talk about the situation.

  She stood in the doorway, looking out at the busy street beyond the boundaries of the hospital grounds. Had it only been two evenings ago they’d pulled up here? Only forty-eight hours since she’d met the man who’d turned her life upside down in more ways than one?

  And the big question—the L one!

  Was it possible to fall in love in such a short time? Or was all that she was feeling towards Max nothing more than a mix of attraction, gratitude, postpartum hormones and total confusion?

  She sighed and made her way back to the maternity floor, detouring towards Harry’s crib—he was asleep and there was no sign of Max—but there were two other babies and their parents in the unit. They’d had it to themselves up until now.

  So it had been Max her friends had seen—Max holding Harry.

  Oh, dear!

  Had holding his son had the same effect on him as it had on her?

  Had that little scrap of humanity dug his tiny fingers into Max’s heart as he’d done to hers, grabbing hold of it forever?

  She headed into the bathroom, hoping a long hot shower might wash away some of the confusion churning in her body and mind.

  And in her heart?

  Well, she admitted to herself, she wasn’t going to wash away Harry’s grip on it in a hurry, and maybe Max wasn’t quite there yet.

  He was waiting for her when she emerged, fortunately dressed because she’d wandered half-clad out of the shower to find a nurse or a housekeeper in the room before now.

  He’d obviously been back to wherever he was staying, for he was in neatly pressed, tan chinos and a darker tan polo shirt that, for some obscure reason, made his eyes look greener.

  He was gorgeous, and mesmeric!

  But the hitch in Joey’s breathing and the hammering in her chest told her this wasn’t an entirely objective assessment.

  Her hair was damp and hung in twining tendrils around her face, and her eyes held the startled look that was beginning to make his heart still momentarily.

  Convenience, Max reminded himself, and very nearly spoke right then.

  But he held back, aware this woman was special—aware she deserved more.

  ‘Come out to dinner?’

  She looked even more startled, then grinned at him.

  ‘I’ll have the nurses in this place calling in anorexia specialists because I’m not eating any of my meals.’

  He smiled back at her because smiling at Joey was so easy.

  ‘They’re nurses,’ he reminded her. ‘They know how bad a lot of hospital food is.’

  He paused, waiting for her to speak, but she’d picked up a tube and was rubbing hand lotion on her hands.

  ‘So dinner?’

  ‘I guess,’ she said, looking up at him—not smiling now.

  ‘Well, don’t rush me with enthusiasm,’ he said, and she did smile then, although her voice was subdued when she spoke.

  ‘It’s such a muddle, isn’t it?’

  ‘Only if we make it one,’ he said firmly, sure he had the answer, and anxious now to put it to her. ‘Are you up to a short walk? I’ve booked a table at a restaurant by the river, but we have to walk through the park to get there.’

  ‘A walk will do me good,’ she said, more positive now, though hardly brimming with enthusiasm.

  He waited while she fussed around, finding her phone and a little handbag—women stuff that always amused him.

  Had she caught his thoughts that she said, rather tartly, ‘It’s easier for men, they have a multitude of pockets for these things.’

  But the fussing, even her slight reprimand, warmed him in some undefined way.

  Little indicators of family?

  Confirmation that the path he’d chosen and hoped to lead her onto
this very night was the right one?

  Uncertainty clutched suddenly, biting into him, but he’d thought this through, it was the way to go...

  ‘Well, are we going?’

  Her tone was still tart. Was this a good start? Should he kiss her first? Now? He wouldn’t be able to in the restaurant, so perhaps—

  She was already out the door.

  * * *

  Was his presence always this disturbing? Joey wondered as she all but marched towards the elevators.

  Or was she finding it so because of the personal thoughts about him that had been running rampant through her head?

  There were people in the elevator, so many she was forced to stand very close to the man causing her such problems. Not that she minded close, but here in the elevator it suggested a kind of intimacy, as if a little bubble of space enclosed just the two of them—the two of them made one.

  Awkward? Not at all—and that was part of the problem. This physical acceptance of their togetherness when, really, did it exist?

  Could it exist so soon?

  Once out, they were apart again, until he took her elbow as they crossed one busy street and then another, taking her hand to lead her down into the park, under the arbour of bougainvillea, off that towards the river.

  Holding hands was a different kind of intimacy.

  ‘Are you listening?’

  She stopped and turned towards him. She couldn’t lie.

  ‘Sorry, have you been talking? I was miles away.’

  ‘I gathered that.’

  He wasn’t exactly grumpy but definitely put out.

  ‘I’m listening now,’ she told him. ‘So start again.’

  ‘Now she’s giving orders!’ he muttered, but she thought she caught a smile in the words.

  ‘I was telling you about my job but I’ve realised it’s too complicated to go into as we walk so I’ll wait until we’re sitting down.’

  She frowned, thinking back.

  ‘The tropical medicine stuff? Are you working on something new? A breakthrough of some kind that it’s so complicated?’

  ‘Other work,’ he said, obviously determined not to elaborate until they were seated.

  ‘The vaccination stuff?’

  ‘Will you stop guessing? We’re nearly there.’

  Was he getting huffy?

  He sounded huffy, but the fact that the question arose in her mind was further evidence of just how little she knew of this man.

  Although picking up on moods of one’s companions took time, so why should she be able to guess at his feelings?

  ‘I think I’ll be glad to sit down and listen to you tell me whatever it is,’ she told him. ‘My head’s so jumbled with conflicting chatter I can’t think straight.’

  He smiled down at her—he couldn’t have been too huffy—then dropped a kiss lightly on her lips.

  Which felt wonderful but didn’t help the jumbling chatter.

  They were seated in the restaurant, drinks ordered—French champagne.

  ‘I checked on the internet. You can drink it, and it goes out of your breast milk at the same time it goes out of your bloodstream, so one unit in two to three hours.’

  Joey had to smile.

  ‘You’re a very nice man,’ she told him. ‘And as I’m not going to be expressing more milk until morning I can probably have two glasses, although I should warn you, after nine months of abstinence I could get tipsy.’

  ‘I somehow doubt that very much,’ Max said, taking her hand across the table and holding it, even though the waiter arrived at that moment to pour their drinks.

  ‘Shall we order then talk, or talk first?’

  Joey lifted her glass.

  ‘First things first,’ she said. ‘Cheers!’

  ‘And here’s to Harry,’ Max responded, touching his glass to hers.

  But she could see the need to say whatever he wanted to say was hovering in his head, obvious in the shadows in his eyes. She was about to suggest they talk before they ordered, but the waiter was already there, hovering, so Joey scanned her menu, suddenly excited about a dinner that wasn’t something she’d cooked herself, or a takeaway—her usual treat for herself.

  ‘I’ll have the rack of lamb with the pomegranate jus, roasted beetroot and baby potatoes.’

  ‘Bleah, fruit with meat!’ came the response from her fellow diner. He looked up at the waiter. ‘I’ll have the T-bone. I’ve been told it’s something special.’

  The waiter agreed and departed, leaving the two of them, one waiting to talk, the other waiting to listen. A serious talk, apparently. Joey wondered if Max was feeling the same tension that was coiling through her.

  Not that he seemed perturbed until he lifted his glass to her again and took a fair gulp of his drink.

  ‘I want to tell you about my job,’ he said, and this time she didn’t interrupt with guesses. ‘I told you about the rescue on Everest.’

  She nodded and watched his face, seeing shadows but determination as well. A man with hidden depths, she thought, then he was talking again.

  ‘It made me think about emergency situations, gave me an interest in them, and the more I read about different disasters and considered how the world could respond to them, the more I felt connected—as if the rescue on the mountain had given me a definite direction in my life.’

  He paused, and she was aware he was waiting, not for a response but to assure himself she was with him so far.

  She nodded, sipped her drink, interested because it wasn’t something she’d thought much about herself.

  Too personal?

  Too close?

  Possibly.

  ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I am interested.’

  ‘Over the years, the world in general, and some countries in particular, have developed excellent modes of quick response. Air transport, developments in all kinds of fields has meant that specialist units could be set up to be deployed at what’s virtually a moment’s notice to any part of the world.’

  ‘I’ve heard of them,’ Joey admitted. ‘They come fully self-contained, don’t they, so the helpers who go in can house and keep themselves for a month.’

  ‘Close! Every unit is different, but basically they are self-contained—shelter, food, power, water and sanitation equipment is standard. They’re called emergency response units, and under that banner are a lot of different units, including, in the medical field, basic health care, referral hospital and a rapid deployment hospital.’

  ‘Very necessary things, I would think.’ Joey was drawn into the story, but wondering just where Max fitted in.

  He answered immediately.

  ‘So’s telecommunications and a base camp, and water and sanitation, but we’ll stick with medical. Australia doesn’t have complete units, but we do offer medical personnel to the units that other countries have on standby. My normal work is research into contagious diseases, but that means I can be free in emergencies. I’m on call to the Canadian Red Cross, which has what is called a rapid deployment hospital. It’s a small unit that can be wherever it’s needed within forty-eight hours of any disaster. We’re set up to be on site for ten days, and by that time can let the organisation know whether the bigger hospital is required or just a basic health care ERU.’

  ‘Anywhere in the world in forty-eight hours?’ Joey asked, and Max smiled at her.

  ‘Well, we’ve never had to go to Antarctica but I imagine we could get even there in that time.’

  ‘I am amazed, and awed, and slightly ashamed that I didn’t even know such things existed. So, you’re there ten days, then what?’

  ‘We come home, or, if necessary, because we’re small and mobile and don’t have a lot of equipment, we can be used as a mobile clinic in another part of the country if requir
ed.’

  ‘You don’t cross over and join the staff on the bigger hospital?’

  Max shook his head.

  ‘I do go back to my normal research. Deployments are rarely more than ten to fourteen days, although in earthquake situations you can’t always get out when you want to—aftershocks can close airports or roads that were previously open. So if you stay on you lend a hand.’

  She was sure he did, but the words ‘earthquake’ and ‘aftershocks’ had rattled her, a smidgin of fear sneaking into the soup of emotions the man had already caused inside her.

  ‘So I’m not always around,’ he said, just as the waiter returned with their meals. ‘On the other hand, it’s not as if I’m off for a couple of weeks every month. I might go a year without a call-up.’

  Was this conversation leading somewhere? Joey wondered, but the delicious aroma of her meal distracted her, and they ate and chatted, she asking questions about places he’d been, he answering, sometimes warily so she imagined there’d been a lot of horror in some of the situations he’d gone into so nobly.

  He’d scoff at the word, she knew that much. The way he spoke this was just a job he loved doing, probably because he knew he was good at it. But as the meal ended she could feel tension building in the air.

  Had he been told to be on standby?

  It seemed ages since she’d seen or heard the news—was there a catastrophe going on somewhere in the world?

  ‘Are you about to tell me you won’t be here for Harry’s op? It’s okay if you’re not. I’ll be fine.’

  She hoped she sounded braver than she felt. She’d grown accustomed to having Max around.

  His answer was a smile and a squeeze of her fingers. Somehow, after their dinner plates had been removed, he’d regained possession of her hand.

  ‘There’s no standby warning or time for fancy dinners when a call comes in,’ he told her. ‘No, I wanted you to know—to understand what I do and why I have such doubts about being able to be a good father to Harry.’

  Joey felt her heart melt.

  ‘I doubt he could have a better father,’ she said, and felt his fingers tighten once again on hers.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said, ‘because I want to ask you something. You don’t have to answer right away, but I’m going soon to Africa—it’s the last trip I’ll be doing as part of the research I’m working on. I’d like to know—to be sure— I’m not doing this very well...’