Caring For His Child

by Amy Andrews

  Like Mirry’s cat becoming the home mascot and David’s insistence that Miranda always wash her hands after playing with Fonzie. Fran guessed that some of those daily meds Miranda took would suppress her immune system, making her more susceptible to infection and therefore requiring scrupulous hygiene around animals.

  And Mirry’s cute moon face. The steroids she’d be on were, no doubt, responsible for that as one of their side effects was the redistribution of fat, particularly around the face.

  She turned in the circle of David’s arms, grappling with the implications. ‘So my daughter died two years ago and donated her organs. Your daughter received a heart from somebody a year before that. And we ended up living next door to each other.’

  She stared at his face bathed in the gentle glow from the fire and found it hard to wrap her head around what had happened. To be living next door to a girl who had benefited from the sort of loss that Fran had suffered felt like the last two years had come full circle. That the gut-wrenching decision and the self-doubt that had plagued her, particularly as her marriage had deteriorated, had all been worth it. There was enormous solace in knowing that someone just like Mirry had benefited from her heartbreak. Suddenly Daisy’s gift was personal instead of clinical.

  Getting to know Mirry, watching her with the residents and Fonzie and being party to her exuberance and zest for life had taken the edge off the ache inside she still felt so keenly. And knowing this special girl as she did, what right did she have, did Jeremy have, to deny people like Mirry a normal functioning life? Deny David his daughter?

  What if they hadn’t consented? The thought that someone just like Mirry might have died because she’d let Jeremy sway her was unthinkable. Mirry suddenly embodied everyone who had received Daisy’s organs. Not just her heart but her kidneys, her liver and her lungs. Fran knew with a sudden clarity that, after two years of uncertainty, she had made the right decision.

  David nodded. He thought it was a pretty special coincidence. ‘Pretty amazing, huh?’

  Amazing or something more? ‘Do you believe in karma?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really,’ he admitted.

  ‘Neither did I. Till now.’

  David smiled and nodded. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe something out there orchestrated all this. Led you here so you could see firsthand how much your gift means to people like us and how it literally gives someone a chance at life. And so I could appreciate your sacrifice even more by seeing how much it cost you.’

  He kissed her gently on the forehead and wiped the tear away that tracked down her cheek. ‘Thank you, David,’ she said, her voice husky.

  ‘No,’ he said, putting his finger under her chin so he could look into her eyes. ‘Thank you. I’ve often thought about Mirry’s donor. We’ve written to them and the agency has passed the letter on but we’ve not had a response yet. It’s frustrating because Mirry’s really curious but I understand why now, more than I ever did.’

  He sighed and picked up the poker and stoked the fire absently. ‘You see, in my position it’s easy to fool yourself into thinking that the decision to donate is cut and dried. Brain death is final and what’s the point of wasting perfectly good organs, right? I think it’s the only way you cope with the type of thoughts that you think while you’re waiting and watching your daughter creep closer to death each day.

  ‘There’s a car accident on the news and someone’s being airlifted to hospital with massive brain injuries. Or a pedestrian is rushed to hospital after collapsing from a suspected cerebral bleed. And all the time you’re thinking. Have they talked about donation with their families? Are they on the donor register? Have they ticked yes on their driver’s licence?

  But listening to you…your decision was so courageous. Your determination to see your daughter’s last wish granted in the face of such tragic circumstances and pressure from her father is truly amazing. You don’t know how much your gift means to people like Mirry. People like me.’

  ‘I do now,’ she whispered. ‘I really do now.’

  Fran snuggled back into his chest again. They were both silent for a while, digesting everything that had happened.

  ‘Where do we go from here?’ asked David after a while. Her warm body pressed intimately against the length of his made him realise that the more recent revelations of the night had overshadowed the fact that they had actually made love.

  A lot had happened in a very short space of time. He and Fran had shared an intensely intimate experience, she’d opened up and told him about her marriage and Daisy and they’d discovered a special link that was almost as compelling as their coupling.

  Fran had mentioned karma and he was beginning to think she was right. He’d always felt a connection with her, from the day he had first met her on the beach and her sadness had resonated on a such a personal level for him. Maybe there was some kind of destiny at work and Fran had been meant to come to Ashworth Bay so they could heal each other. He did know one thing for sure. Having her here in his arms, being with her last night, was too right to be wrong or to let it go.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m up to any kind of commitment, David,’ Fran said quietly. What they’d done last night had been amazing and everything that had happened since had been incredible, but it didn’t miraculously remove her baggage or make her blind to the pitfalls of rushing into something. Things were going well. After two years of depression she’d never expected to feel so happy so quickly. She didn’t think it wise to push her luck.

  ‘I’m not asking for one, Fran. But I don’t want to stop doing what we did last night. I won’t crowd you, I promise, but I want to keep seeing you and getting to know you.’

  It sounded nice to Fran and it had been a long time since nice had meant anything. She turned slightly so she was looking at him. ‘Let’s give it a try.’

  David smiled against her lips as he claimed her mouth in a slow, sweet, triumphant kiss. When he pulled away they were both a little breathless.

  ‘What about Miranda?’ Fran asked. ‘What do we tell her?’

  David thought for a moment but knew what he had to say. Mirry adored Fran and it was tempting, knowing what he did now, to immerse his daughter in his happiness as well. The fact that Fran and Mirry could be good for each other also hadn’t escaped him. Fran could help Mirry come to terms with the donation concept that he knew she grappled with. And Mirry could help Fran through her grieving as well.

  But they were not good reasons to involve his daughter in a relationship that still had a lot of baggage to overcome. He’d made a vow to Jen’s mother after Jen had died that he wouldn’t expose Mirry to any relationships that weren’t for keeps, and he felt as strongly about it now as he had then. And as significant as he felt this thing with Fran was going to be, he had to think of Miranda’s needs.

  ‘I think we should play it cool around Mirry, if that’s OK with you. She’s a young, impressionable girl who would dearly love to have a woman around and she’s really taken to you. Until we know for sure that our relationship is going to be permanent, I’d rather stick with the we’re-just-friends line around Mirry. I don’t want to get her hopes up. I guess that goes for everyone, actually. If our relationship is common knowledge, it won’t take Mirry long to find out at the home.’

  Fran leaned in and kissed him. ‘I think that’s very wise, David,’ she said, stroking her fingers over his chin and jaw enjoying the erotic feel of his stubble against her skin. ‘How did you get so smart?’ she said with a light teasing smile.

  David was prevented from answering by a wet furball landing between them. Fonzie had obviously been frolicking in the dewy grass. He was cold and wet and Fran leapt up to depose a cold wet dog from her lap. The blanket didn’t come with her.

  David laughed and stared appreciatively up at her naked body. ‘Hmm. Nice,’ he murmured, rising from the floor with the rug and spreading it around her shoulders.

  ‘Miranda’s not due home till late this afternoon,’ he said as he dragged
her in close to his body. ‘Fancy checking out my bedroom?’

  ‘A bed? I thought you’d never ask! My back didn’t appreciate the night in front of the fire.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess our bodies aren’t as young as they used to be.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Fran as they reached his bedroom door and shut a cold, wet Fonzie out. ‘You speak for yourself.’

  For the first time in two years she didn’t feel ancient anymore. Despite what her back told her. And it felt good.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE NEXT MONTH passed in the most wonderful daze for Fran. What cosmic forces had been at work to lead her to Ashworth Bay and her little cottage on the cliff she wasn’t ready to analyse, she was just grateful. Suddenly, being drawn to the cottage from the minute she had seen it on the internet made sense—because it certainly hadn’t at the time.

  In fact, that she’d had such a strong gut feeling about the house had been very strange indeed. It had been a particularly dark time in her life. Her divorce had been looming and she’d reached the numb stage. Nothing had registered on her emotional radar at all. There had been no blips. She’d felt completely empty. Her mood flat. Blunted. The wild fluctuations in her emotions that had marked her earlier grief non-existent.

  Yet on the day that she’d received her decree nisi, she’d seen the cottage and her gut had said, You must have this place, you belong in this cottage. Luckily she hadn’t questioned it because, despite her barren emotional state, part of her had known that she needed a change or she was going to wither and die.

  But looking back, maybe it had been about more than that. Maybe destiny or fate had been guiding her instincts and leading her to a place, to a family, that she needed, that needed her, before she could fully heal.

  Her relationship with David blossomed and strengthened. She opened up and let him closer. Let Miranda closer. Sure, the events of the last two years still weighed heavily on her heart but they weren’t the only thoughts that occupied her time anymore. Fran couldn’t just see the light at the end of the tunnel—she could almost feel its warmth on her face.

  The ache that she felt whenever she thought about Daisy wasn’t as acute. Being near Mirry and knowing about her transplant was helping Fran comes to terms with issues that had plagued her since her daughter’s death. And having Miranda around made her realise how lucky she’d been to have had those ten years with Daisy instead of solely focussing on the two years without her.

  They dined together most nights and every second weekend. When Mirry spent two days with her grandparents, Fran and David would spend the weekend in bed. They made love and they talked and they laughed and Fran was having fun. They ate…a lot. And Fran could see her body shape coming back, filling out, and how healthily her skin glowed now and how her eyes twinkled merrily.

  Yep. Coming to Ashworth Bay had been the best decision she had ever made. She’d arrived four months ago a hollow shell desperately in need of a place to get her life back on track to feeling like part of the human race again. She was always going to have her past, she knew that, but she felt like her grief wasn’t defining her anymore and that she could move forwards instead of staying in her destructive holding pattern.

  And she had David to thank for that. David had been wonderful and gentle and had let her crawl along at her own pace, and Fran suspected she was falling in love with him. It was a scary prospect and she shied away from it. Love left you open to the potential for a whole lot of hurt and Fran had had enough hurt to last a lifetime.

  Too much had happened over the past two years to be laying plans for the future. For now she was happy again and that was miracle enough.

  After two years of blindly wandering in an emotional wilderness she’d known she had to make a change or go insane. But she’d never imagined that the move away from all she’d known and loved and all her history, both good and bad, would have been anywhere near this successful.

  ‘Sister,’ said Catherine frostily one morning, returning Fran’s cheery greeting.

  Fran gave her a big smile anyway. She’d decided that she was going to wear the receptionist down with pure niceness. There was nothing she could do about not being an Ashworth Bay native but much she could do about becoming one. She wasn’t going anywhere!

  Fran hummed her way through the morning medication round. She’d managed to hasten the process during her time at the home and could do it in less than forty minutes if she had no interruptions. If.

  Polly, Molly and Dolly regarded her curiously as she stopped the trolley outside their door.

  ‘Happy today, dear?’ said Molly.

  ‘That’s because it’s a beautiful day,’ said Fran, putting the sisters’ blood pressure medication into plastic medicine cups.

  ‘That it is,’ agreed Polly.

  ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’ said the ever-forthright Dolly.

  This was just the kind of interruption Fran tried to avoid. She smiled at them again and feigned innocence before pushing on to the next room. Subtle they weren’t. She would have to have been blind, deaf and stupid not to have noticed the Ibsen triplets’ attempts at matchmaking.

  Fran doubted it would be possible to dissuade them but refused to encourage them, either. What happened between her and David was evolving slowly and naturally and did not need any outside influence. She was happy with how things were at the moment and didn’t want to give anyone false hope, least of all Mirry.

  Especially when she wasn’t sure exactly what she felt for David. He had been kind and gentle and they were close and becoming involved with him was fine, but she didn’t want to think beyond that.

  ‘Good morning, Ted. Good morning, Betty. Sleep well?’

  ‘Like babies, Sister,’ said Betty, and smiled serenely.

  Fran raised her eyebrows at Betty and blinked as the elegant old lady gave her a wink.

  ‘Do tell Dr Ross those little blue pills are marvellous next time you see him, will you, dear?’

  Fran laughed as she heard Ted grumbling in the background about everyone in the home knowing their private business.

  ‘What about you, Sister?’ asked Betty. ‘You look like you’ve found yourself a great sleeping pill, too.’

  Fran’s laughter petered out. Was it that obvious?

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, my girl. Your and Dr Ross’s secret is safe with me.’

  Later that afternoon Fran knocked on David’s office door. He smiled at her when she entered and she felt her insides clench. Miranda was spending the next night—Saturday—at her grandmother’s again and Fran knew that a fortnight of enforced abstinence and stolen kisses would make for a very passionate night indeed.

  She crossed straight to the desk and he opened up his arms to her, pulling her down onto his lap. He kissed her thoroughly.

  ‘Go and lock the door,’ he whispered in her ear as he teased her earlobe with his teeth.

  ‘No.’ She laughed and kissed him instead.

  ‘If you’re going to keep kissing me like that you’d better lock it because I’m just about ready to sweep everything off my desk and have my wicked way with you.’

  Fran chuckled. ‘Patience is a virtue,’ she said, and hopped off his lap and out of his reach. Distance was definitely called for at the moment and he was right—anyone could walk in on them.

  ‘Betty knows about us.’

  ‘Does she, now?’ he said, stroking his chin absently.

  ‘Oh, and she said to thank you for the little blue pills,’ said Fran, grinning.

  ‘Uh-huh! That’s how she knows.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Takes one sexually gratified woman to know another.’

  ‘Oh, really? Well, frustrated is a better word at the moment,’ she said, backing out of the room.

  ‘One more sleep,’ he said, and smiled as she blew him a kiss and left.

  The next morning Miranda knocked on Fran’s door.

  ‘Hi,’ said Fran, and stood aside so the child could enter. Giving Miranda free a
ccess to her home had happened so gradually and naturally it never occurred to Fran to do otherwise.

  ‘Fonzie!’ said Miranda, as the black puppy barked excitedly at their visitor and Miranda fell to her knees and patted him.

  Fran watched them as they played. She’d just popped some raisin toast into the toaster. ‘You had breakfast?’ she asked Miranda.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said, picking Fonzie up and giving him a hug.

  ‘Want some raisin toast?’

  ‘Oh, yes, please. My favourite.’

  Fran stopped in mid-buttering. It had been Daisy’s favourite as well. She waited for the ache to come and the rush of painful memories, but found herself smiling at the anecdote instead.

  Fran made Miranda wash her hands and they ate together at the kitchen bench. Fran toasted another round, revelling in having her appetite back.

  ‘We’re having a picnic on the beach at lunchtime before I go to Granny’s and I said to Dad that we should invite you and he said sure and so I’m here to invite you.’

  Miranda had toast crumbs all over her mouth and Fran suppressed the motherly urge to pick up a cloth and wipe them away.

  ‘Please, say yes, Fran. Fonzie can come, too.’

  As if Fran could resist her bright eager face framed by those crazy red curls. ‘What time?’ she asked, and laughed at Mirry’s triumphant squeal of delight.

  Fran walked Fonzie down to the beach at midday. The sun was quite warm and Fran had smothered her fair skin with factor-thirty sunscreen and donned a wide-brimmed hat.

  She found David and Miranda setting up under the shade of the trees that fringed the beach. Miranda ran off, chasing Fonzie up and down. She was wearing a long-sleeved sun shirt and also a hat.

  David looked at Fran standing there, looking down at him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d been. She looked stunning today in her denim cut-off shorts that just covered the tops of her thighs and a grey V-necked singlet shirt that bared the slightest hint of midriff.