by Becky Wicks
As she walked at his side he was struck by a flashback of her lips on his, her hands in his hair...how he’d wanted to taste more, so much more of her. While he’d been away, she’d been there with him at night, in his head and his dreams at least, although he’d been operating at maximum capacity by day with no time to act on his romantic desires.
His family was in shreds, deciding the fate of his father. Fred Van de Berg, a man of formidable intellect and pride, was now in the stage of his debilitating disease that meant he’d spent three days AWOL. No one had been able to find him until two nights ago. His brother was now adamant they put him in a home. His mother was beside herself with worry, and Lucas still had to appear at work as if everything was normal.
‘He was on a panel, talking about what differentiates a successful surgeon from a not-so-successful one. He said...if you don’t mind me saying, Lucas...that you have to go into the zone where you’re calm and collected, even if a child is dying before your eyes. It almost made me cry; the things you must have had to put yourself through.’
Joy carried on as though she’d memorised the entire podcast. He had to remind himself to stay in that zone now, the one where he was calm and collected, but Freya’s eyes were searching his with new curiosity and questions. Now he was back in her presence, he realised he should have called her after what had happened in the storeroom. He just hadn’t known what to say to her, especially while he’d been distracted by his father.
He’d arrived at the conclusion that it was better not to say anything to anyone about what was going on at home until it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t want everyone constantly asking him how he was every five minutes, or thinking he had something on his mind when he was conducting life or death surgical procedures, especially as Anne Marie and Ruben were going to be in and out over the following weeks, discussing their baby’s diagnosis. It was as shocking to him as them; he knew they’d been trying for a second child for months.
He didn’t need anyone doubting his professional focus for any reason at all, especially not Freya, though she was on his mind, whether he wanted her there or not.
Joy was still talking about the podcast. ‘“A surgeon has to be proficient physically, as much as mentally...” I liked the way you said that, Lucas. I bet a lot of people don’t think about that when they start out on the road towards becoming a paediatric surgeon. If you don’t apply that knife, or put that stitch in exactly the right place, you could lose a child.’ She lowered her voice even more. ‘Any one of these children...’
He stopped by the door, checking his watch. ‘What I said was, it doesn’t matter what your IQ is, or how many books you’ve read. You have to keep your wits about you, or you could totally fall apart, do something unprofessional in front of your team...’
‘I can’t imagine you doing that,’ Freya said, her voice almost forcing his eyes to hers. ‘You would never do anything unprofessional in front of your team, would you, Doctor?’
She arched an ironic eyebrow at him. Freya was referring to the way he’d pulled her into that storeroom and kissed her...
Maybe he shouldn’t have done it, but she’d been driving him nuts, and he hadn’t been able to help himself. He almost hadn’t sent her the bicycle either, but that was something she needed; a necessity to get to work on time.
The impulse purchase was a result of seeing her so lost that time, stranded on her own. He hated to think of her in that situation. Even someone as independent as Freya needed help sometimes and if he could afford to do that, he would.
That’s what he’d told himself anyway.
‘Well, sometimes we all do things we regret,’ he stated. It was true, he regretted what he’d said to her about her mother. It had been driven by his own fears about losing his father—something that was becoming ever more real. He didn’t regret the kiss, however—good idea or not, it had been one of the hottest encounters of his adult life.
‘I guess we do...do things we regret,’ Freya said thoughtfully, and Joy scrunched her nose up, looking between them, like she was trying and failing to connect the dots.
‘Are we still talking about the podcast?’ she asked.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DUE TO THE surgery schedule, Freya didn’t see Lucas again all day, not even to thank him for the bicycle in person. She’d sent a message on the night he’d had it delivered, but he hadn’t replied till the next day and even then all he’d written was Graag gedaan—You’re welcome.
She knew he’d been busy recently, though, even more than usual. He’d just performed an operation on teenage football star Valerie Maijer-Schrot. She had already been through a series of consultations and now Lucas had performed a minimally invasive procedure using new, revolutionary methods on her sunken chest.
The operation would ultimately leave little to no scarring, but thanks to Valerie’s incessant tweeting and praise for her ‘handsome Dr Van de Berg’ it had invited a media frenzy outside the hospital and given most of the staff a headache.
Freya had had to fight her way through a crowd after work, having accepted Joy’s invitation to grab some dinner at one of her favourite restaurants across town.
‘This is amazing,’ Freya enthused, when they were sitting at a table covered in a red and white checked tablecloth. They each had a plate of stamppot—steaming mashed potato, gravy and meatballs. ‘Like a hug from the inside,’ she noted.
Joy bobbed her head, chewing on her food with a look that reflected her name. ‘It’s my absolute favourite,’ she said, reaching for her wine. ‘Not as good as the one Lucas used to make, but pretty close. Did you put some cranberry sauce on it? That really sets it off.’
The mention of Lucas made adrenaline pulse in her veins but Freya tried not to show it. ‘Lucas used to have dinner parties, I heard that.’ She took a sip of her own wine, trying to appear indifferent.
‘He held a lot more when Roshinda was around. What do you think he did during his personal time off, by the way? Did he tell you if he went anywhere?’
Freya shook her head, and busied her mouth with a forkful of mashed potato. She hated to gossip, but that had been before Lucas had kissed her and then gone AWOL, which had upset her more than she had admitted, even to herself. She’d been thrown by their kiss, and confused about her feelings enough, without him disappearing on her too. ‘Maybe he just needed a break,’ she offered after a moment, leaving out from me.
Joy made a pffft sound. ‘He never takes time off. I hope he’s OK. Poor Lucas, he works so hard. He’s probably having a rough time knowing he might have to operate on his friend’s baby. Ruben’s great...’
‘You know him too?’
‘Yeah, we met at one of Lucas’s parties. We really should get Lucas cooking again on his houseboat. If you’re lucky he’ll get his snake out!’
Freya almost choked on her wine. ‘What?’ She dragged a hand across her mouth, scrambling for her napkin.
‘A python. He gets it out sometimes for people...’ Joy giggled to herself like she was amused by her own innuendo. ‘What did you think I meant?’
Freya was sure her cheeks must have flushed scarlet. Joy didn’t know about their kiss, and she couldn’t bring it up. Lucas clearly regretted it, he’d said it himself in so many words. Earlier on the ward he’d said, ‘Well, sometimes we do things we regret,’ and he’d been looking straight at her.
‘You know...something pretty bad must have happened with his ex to make him close his houseboat off to his friends.’ Joy pushed the last forkful of mash around her plate thoughtfully. ‘They seemed so happy one minute and the next she was gone. No explanation. I mean, why would she just up and leave a man like Lucas?’
‘Maybe it was his snake?’
‘Oh, my God.’ Joy burst out laughing, and several people turned from their tables. Her laugh was infectious and Freya couldn’t help joining in. It felt good to be in a restaur
ant, laughing with a friend, even if she still couldn’t quite get away from the subject of Lucas Van de Berg. She was wondering yet again why Roshinda had left ‘a man like Lucas’, which was annoying. It was bad enough she was thinking about him so much after his absence, she didn’t want to be thinking about his past relationships, too.
‘So...’ Joy clasped her hands together under her chin. ‘Enough about men. When is your sister getting here? You mentioned she might visit.’
Freya pushed the salt shaker to the next square on the tablecloth. ‘That’s a good question.’
Guilt flooded in again. Why couldn’t she just book Liv a damn ticket? They could see their mother together, it would all be fine. She was making a big deal out of nothing...that was how Lucas probably perceived it anyway, seeing her cancelling calls and feeding excuses to poor Liv. She didn’t know why else he was so wound up over her cancelling the odd call to her mother in front of him. Then again, there were still things he wasn’t telling her about his father; that much she was sure of.
What a mess.
Unexpectedly Joy reached a hand across the red and white checks and placed it over hers. ‘I’m guessing something happened with your sister?’
‘It’s more our mother, actually,’ she confessed, feeling a lump spring up in her throat at Joy’s kindness. ‘We’re not close, me and Mum.’
Joy squeezed her hand. ‘Well, if you ever need someone to talk to about it, or just to take your mind off it, I’m right here.’
‘Thank you, Joy.’ Freya realised she had tears in her eyes suddenly. She could hear Anouk’s voice now, loud in her head, as if she were sitting with a plate of meatballs at the next table: ‘A problem shared is a problem halved, Freya.’
Just airing things out loud to someone, a female friend, was nice. She’d missed that since college. She was realising now that when it came to her so-called ‘failed’ relationships, maybe Beatrice had broken more of her heart than Johnny had.
* * *
‘He’s going to require three open heart surgeries, one right after birth, one at about four months, and the third one could be at about two or three years old...’
‘And what about after that? Be honest with us, Lucas.’ Anne Marie’s eyes were pleading, and Lucas tried not to look at Freya. It wasn’t easy delivering news like this to anyone, let alone friends, and he was already doing his best to keep his emotions in check, knowing his own family needed him more than ever, while he was here at the hospital dealing with everything from famous teenage football stars like Valerie, to the underlying tension between him and Freya, to this.
Freya cut in suddenly. ‘After that, well, we would do everything in our power to keep him going, and strong enough for a heart transplant.’
‘A heart transplant, when he’s just a toddler?’ Anne Marie’s eyes flooded with desperate tears.
‘Unless you want to schedule the prenatal surgery, which, as you already know, is very high risk, then those are our options.’
‘It’s all high risk,’ Lucas said. ‘It’s not fair on you for us to sugar-coat it, guys. With the intact atrial septum on top of the defect, his chances of survival without the prenatal surgery are small...minuscule. With no left ventricle his lungs would be filling with fluid from the get-go, and with all that congestion there’s a slim chance he would make it to the first surgery after he’s born.’
‘I’ve been researching this condition for hours already.’ Anne Marie put a hand to her swollen belly and made a weary sound as her back hit the couch.
‘She has. I can’t get her away from the laptop.’ Ruben arranged some cushions behind her and took her hand, and Lucas watched Freya stand and cross the room. She lit another aromatherapy candle, but he wondered if it was more for her own benefit, to soothe her own busy mind in a tricky situation.
This was a lot for her to deal with too. As well as the chemistry between them that they were trying to ignore, it was tough, having a personal connection to a patient, even through him.
Anne Marie sniffed. ‘We just don’t know what to do.’
‘Lucas is the best surgeon for the job,’ Freya interjected. ‘I’m sure you know that. If you want to know what I would do, I would go for the foetal intervention.’
He met her eyes, and she nodded, as if permitting him to continue explaining. She had invited him in here for this consultation after all, it being a special situation. ‘I use ultrasound to help guide a catheter through the baby’s abdomen,’ he told them. ‘We go in, poke a needle through the septum, expand it with a balloon, and place a stent in there.’
‘We’ll have to run more tests to see if the baby is eligible for the procedure,’ Freya said, taking a seat again beside him. ‘We need to see if the atrial septum is likely to withstand the pressure first, and check that the left atrium is developed enough, otherwise the needle could pierce through the other side of the heart, which would mean more complications.’
‘I’m sorry for all the waiting,’ Lucas said. ‘But if the baby is eligible, I’m confident I can perform the procedure successfully.’
‘We just need you to be aware of every single potential outcome, no matter what you choose to do,’ Freya added.
‘You’re doing everything you can, both of you.’ Ruben was composed, but Anne Marie was looking at Freya, lips trembling. ‘So...if he’s not eligible for the foetal intervention, we might just get to hold him for a few seconds after he’s born, and then he’ll be gone?’
‘We would try for the open heart surgery, with your consent, of course,’ Freya explained, but Anne Marie didn’t seem as if she’d heard. She was sobbing uncontrollably now with one hand on her belly and one over her eyes, and all they could do was watch helplessly as she left the room.
‘I’ll go after her. Sorry, we’ll be right back,’ Ruben muttered, racing after her.
Freya paced the length of the room, hands on her hips.
‘It’s a lot to take in,’ he said, needlessly.
She swiped the strands of loose hair from her bun behind her ears and looked at the ceiling fan. ‘It’s always so hard,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘You know...you try and put yourself in their position, at least I do, as a woman. Carrying a child that might not make it, just the thought almost scares me off even trying to have a baby...ever.’
‘Really?’
She screwed up her nose. ‘I don’t know why I just said that, sorry. This isn’t about me, I know they’re your friends.’
‘You can tell me,’ he said.
‘Maybe it’s not just my work that stops me wanting children,’ she ventured after a second.
He waited for her to expand, perhaps admit that her transient lifestyle might be the real reason she wouldn’t feel comfortable about bringing a baby into the world, but she said, ‘Maybe I also think being a bad mother might run in the family.’
He sighed through his nose and stood up. What she’d said was utterly ridiculous. ‘Freya, your mother wasn’t the best mother, I get it, and I’m sorry if I sounded so...insensitive before, when I said you should just talk to her—’
‘You had a point,’ she cut in.
He was thrown for a moment. ‘OK...well...anyway, like I said, whatever happened between you and your mother is nothing that can’t be fixed. It’s not too late. She’s still alive, isn’t she?’
He fought the urge to tilt her face up to his and kept his hands to himself. ‘She’s still calling you, wanting to talk, even if you’re too afraid to face what she might want to say. And as for not wanting kids... I’d hate to see you ruling that option out because I think you’re great with children. It’s clear to everyone in this hospital that you’re a natural with them.’
She scanned his eyes without moving away, like she didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. Then she walked to the window.
Lucas picked up Roshinda’s journal for something to do
with his hands, but it suddenly felt like a hot coal so he stood and tossed it into a drawer behind the desk.
‘So, how are you doing?’ he ventured, when the silence got too loud.
‘I don’t know how to answer that, it feels like a loaded question,’ she answered, with her back to him. ‘I guess we’re both trying to forget what happened between us...in the storeroom.’
He rubbed his jaw, taken aback by her bringing that up. ‘I assumed it was a one-off, caught up in the moment kind of thing,’ he said finally.
Freya spun around. ‘So, why did you buy me a bike?’
He couldn’t read her now. Was she mad about the bike? She’d texted him to thank him and she hadn’t sounded angry. Women were so complicated. ‘I thought you needed it,’ he said cautiously.
‘I did, thank you, but I could have bought my own bike.’
‘I know that.’
The sigh that came out of her mouth was like pent-up steam from an ancient kettle. ‘You kissed me, Lucas...’
‘It was a great kiss,’ he said, allowing a smile to cross his lips just thinking about it. ‘You’re a very kissable woman, Freya.’
An answering smile played on her mouth for a second before she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. ‘This past week, it was pretty unexpected, you just not being here after we kissed like that...’
‘I had some family issues,’ he said simply.
‘Is everything OK, Lucas?’ Freya was looking at him in a way that made his jaw clench.
‘It’s not really something I can discuss here,’ he said after a beat, seeing his dad again in his mind’s eye, the way he’d been when they’d found him. Fred had no recollection of how or why he had driven himself to the cabin they used to spend summers in as kids, way down in Gelderland. He had been banned from driving anywhere now.
