‘Probably. Designer buns, though,’ she said. ‘She’ll have ordered them from the most exclusive and expensive baker in Melbourne. She’ll have unsalted butter imported from Denmark. If she wasn’t staying at Charles’s parents’ place she’d be serving them on china that cost more than my weekly salary per piece, but Marjory will be making up for that. Marjory has exquisite porcelain all her own.’
‘Marjory?’
‘Charles’s mother,’ she said, and bit into her scone with a savagery that made him blink.
‘Um…’
‘Don’t ask,’ she said. ‘I love them but they drive me nuts. In a while I’ll phone and ask them to come and get me.’ She looked down at her sarong and winced. ‘I’m not sure what they’ll think of my fashion sense. What do you think, boys?’
The little boys had been staring at her like she had two heads. They were totally entranced.
‘It’s very…nice,’ Martin tried.
‘My mum wore a blanket sometimes,’ Nathan offered.
‘Your mum…’
‘I’ve washed your clothes,’ Dom said, thinking maybe now was a good time to deflect the conversation. ‘I put them in the washer last night-they’re in the drier now. I’d expect you’ll have decent clothes in about half an hour.’
‘I think I ripped them.’
‘You may have,’ he agreed. ‘Did you have any more? In the car?’
‘Of course.’
‘I let the police know about the crash last night. If the local cop doesn’t arrive with your gear, we’ll go and get it.’
‘Did you really crash your car?’ Martin asked.
‘I did.’ Then, seeing the boys’ desire for gory detail, she relented. ‘Marilyn, the dog, was in the middle of the road. I swerved to avoid hitting her. My car went off the road and rolled all the way down to the river.
‘Rolled…’ Nathan breathed.
‘Rolled,’ she agreed. ‘Over and over. It was lucky I was wearing a seat belt or I’d have been squashed.’
‘You must have been scared,’ Martin said.
‘I was.’ She nodded, looking satisfactorily ghoulish. ‘I could have been deader than a duck.’ Her dark eyes twinkled. ‘If it was a dead duck, that is.’
But Martin wasn’t to be deflected. He was off in his own horror story. ‘You might have rolled into the river and drowned,’ he said, and frowned. ‘I think my dad drowned. My aunty said he drowned himself in booze.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Erin said, focusing directly on the little boy before her. Her playacting disappeared. Her expression was suddenly adult to adult, and Dom thought, This woman is skilled. Empathic. Kind. Her whole body language said she cared.
‘I can’t even remember him,’ Martin said. ‘I can remember Mum but she’s gone, too.’
‘Does that make you really sad?’ Erin asked. Cautious.
‘No, ’cos Dom’s looking after me,’ Martin said, cheering up. ‘And Tansy, but Tansy’s not here. But you’re here, and now Marilyn is, too.’
‘The dog’s here only till this lady goes home,’ Dom said warningly and Erin thought…
‘No,’ Dom said.
She looked startled. ‘What?’
‘It’s two who can play at face-reading,’ he retorted. ‘I’m sorry you crashed your car. I’m also very sorry for Marilyn but I can’t keep her.’
‘You can’t…’ She paused. ‘No. I…Of course you can’t.’
‘I’m looking after two boys and the medical needs of this entire community,’ he said. ‘Normally I have a housekeeper…’
‘No wife?’ she said before she could stop herself.
‘No wife,’ he agreed, and smiled at her evident confusion. ‘I’m sorry. Last night you assumed there was, and because you were scared it seemed more sensible to let you believe it. We normally have a live-in housekeeper-Tansy. She’s great, isn’t she, boys? But her sister had a baby last week so Tansy’s flown to Queensland to help out. Which means when I get an urgent callout the boys have to come with me. I can hardly take Marilyn and the pups as well. I can only take on so much.’
‘Of course you can,’ she said, hurriedly. ‘I…I’ll think of something.’
‘Of course you will,’ he said, and had to bite back the urge to say, Stay here. Of course we can keep your dog. We can keep you, too, if you want.
Which was ridiculous. There was no earthly reason why he should look at this woman and feel his heart hammer in his chest. She was a patient, who’d come to him for help.
She didn’t belong here.
His body was telling him she did.
His body had better go take a hike.
Maybe he had more of his mother in him than he thought. His mother had believed in love at first sight and she’d messed with both of their lives because of it. Her romantic ideals had turned into loser after loser. She saw life through rose-coloured glasses, and her dreams turned to nightmares every time.
‘I have work to do,’ he said abruptly.
‘I won’t interfere.’
‘I know you won’t,’ he said. And added silently as he left, for his ears only, Because I won’t let you.
She’d upset him. He’d walked out of the room like he couldn’t leave fast enough. Like she was contagious.
Ridiculous. She must be mistaken.
She ate another scone and had a second cup of coffee and talked to the boys. The tumble-drier whirred to a halt in the next room, and Dom appeared again, with an armful of clean, dry clothes.
‘Do you want to phone your family?’ he asked, brusque and businesslike. ‘You lost your cellphone, didn’t you. You can use my land line.’
She glanced at her watch. Nine. If she was driving from Melbourne this morning she’d hardly arrive before eleven. They wouldn’t be worrying. She could have a couple more hours…
Of what? Sitting in this man’s kitchen eating more hot cross scones while he stayed out of her way?
Stupid. She was avoiding the inevitable. She had to go.
And Marilyn? If she was careful she could get her onto the back seat of Charles’s or her father’s car, she decided. Sure, they shouldn’t disrupt her but it was a whole lot better than putting her down. Which was the alternative.
‘You could ring the local animal shelter,’ Dom said, watching her face and seeing her indecision. ‘They might be able to do something.’
‘On the first day of a four-day holiday? An injured stray with hours-old puppies?’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll think of something.’ She rose to her feet. Feeling shaky. Feeling unaccountably desolate.
‘I’ll fetch some crutches from the surgery.’
‘Thank you.’
‘We can be your crutches,’ Martin said stoically. But he was looking doubtful. ‘Are you taking the puppies away?’
‘They’re Erin’s puppies,’ Dom said.
‘Does she want them?’ Martin looked at Erin with eyes that said he’d been lied to in the past. His clear, green eyes were challenging.
‘Of course I want them,’ Erin said, forcing brightness. And then she glanced out into the hall and saw the heap of doggie contentment by the door. ‘Of course I want them,’ she reiterated, sounding more sure of herself. ‘It’s just a matter of convincing my family.’
Her family en masse-including Charles’s parents-were appalled. Erin tried to downplay the accident-a skid on a wet road to avoid a dog-but for her extended family, even a minor incident had the power to dredge up fearsome memories. It took a while to assure her mother she wasn’t hurt, honest, it had been a minor accident, and, no, she didn’t need their help, she only needed someone to fetch her.
Her mother put Charles on. So Charles hadn’t told them what had happened between them? Or maybe he had but he’d explained she was being silly. Hormonal, he’d said the last time she’d seen him, which had made her want to hit him.
By the time she spoke to Charles she was emotionally wrung out. She didn’t have energy left to explain she still had Marilyn.
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ Charles said, and she knew she’d shaken him as well. She knew he’d come fast.
She didn’t want Charles. She wanted her dad to come, but of course they acted as a team.
They all cared for her. They cared for her so well she felt…stifled.
The doorbell pealed while she was getting dressed and her feeling of oppression deepened. But then she thought, surely Charles couldn’t be here already.
Maybe it was another patient. Maybe it was another need for Dom to face this Easter.
If he was called out…Maybe she could stay with the boys for a while, she thought. As a thank-you gesture. Charles wouldn’t mind waiting. He could have one of her hot cross scones.
She hauled her windcheater over her head and opened the living-room door with caution. Dom was at the front door, facing a stranger.
The man in the doorway was long, lanky and unkempt. He was maybe six feet four or so. He had limp, dirty hair that hung in dreadlocks to his shoulders. He was wearing tattered clothes and frayed sandals, and in his hands he was holding the biggest Easter egg Erin had ever seen. As big as two footballs, the thing was wider than he was.
‘I’m here to see Nathan,’ the man snapped, and then started coughing. Dom took the egg and waited until the coughing ceased.
‘Nathan,’ he called down the passage.
Marilyn was right behind him in the hall, between Erin and the front door, between Dom and Erin. As he glanced backward past the dog, Dom’s eyes met Erin’s. He gave her a blank stare-the sort of look doctors gave each other in the emergency department to say caution, act with care.
Nathan came running out of the kitchen. He saw who was at the front door-and stopped.
‘Here’s your dad,’ Dom said, gently, Erin noticed. ‘I think he’s brought you a present.
‘I can tell my kid that myself,’ the man said, aggressively.
‘Would you like to come in?’ Dom asked. He gestured to Marilyn. ‘Sorry about the mess. Our dog gave birth to puppies last night in just the wrong place.’
Our dog? Okay, maybe anything else would be too hard to explain, Erin conceded. For now Marilyn was communal property.
‘I’m not coming in,’ the man growled. ‘This place gives me the creeps.’
‘It’s a safe house, Dad,’ Nathan said in a small voice. ‘No one hits you here.’
There was moment’s deathly silence. The man seemed to freeze.
‘No one hits you anywhere,’ the man said finally, in a voice that said he didn’t believe it himself.
No one responded.
‘How’s the methadone programme going?’ Dom asked, and the man’s anger returned.
‘Bloody stuff doesn’t work. You know that.’
‘So you’re using again?’
‘Yeah, but I want the kid.’
‘You know the courts said you need to be clear for three months before they’ll consider it. Methadone and testing-you know the drill. We’ve been through it over and over. People are trying to help you.’
‘F…do-gooders.’
‘It’s all we can do, Michael,’ Dom said wearily. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’
‘Nah. I just want to give the kid the egg.’ He held it toward Nathan, not moving an inch inside the house. ‘Come on, Nathe,’ he said in a wheedling voice. ‘I bought it good and proper. With me pension money.’
‘It’s pretty big,’ Nathan said, but he didn’t look pleased. In fact, he looked close to tears.
‘So come and get it,’ Michael said.
Nathan edged forward along the hallway, inching his way past Marilyn. But it wasn’t the dog he was scared of, Erin thought. When he reached Michael his face was bleached white. Dom’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder.
‘Hey, it’s good that your dad’s brought you an egg,’ he said.
‘Y-yeah.’ Nathan took a deep breath, as if searching for courage. He reached out and the egg was shoved into his arms.
‘There,’ Michael said, satisfied. ‘You can’t say I don’t have contact with him. Can you?’ he demanded of Dom belligerently.
‘Of course I can’t,’ Dom said. ‘But if you want custody you need to get serious about the methadone programme.’
‘Yeah, yeah. After Easter. When I get me life in order a bit. But me and a mate are going surfing.’ He glanced out to the street where an ancient purple kombi van was clearly waiting for him. ‘I’d love to take you, Nathe.’
‘Yes,’ Nathan said, but his hand crept into Dom’s and held it.
The man noticed. His face darkened with anger. ‘Why, you little…’
‘Nathan’s had flu,’ Dom said quickly as the man’s hand raised. ‘He’s had almost a week off school.’
It was enough to deflect Michael. His hand paused.
‘My kid’s been sick? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I left a message at your boarding house.’
‘I haven’t been there for weeks.’ Out on the street whoever was driving the van was clearly getting impatient. There was a long, loud blast of the horn.
‘I hope the surf’s great,’ Dom said neutrally, and Michael cast him an uncertain look-deciding, Erin thought, whether to stoke his anger or not. And finally, blessedly, deciding not.
‘Yeah, it will be,’ he said at last. ‘I gotta go. But, Nathe, remember I gave you the egg. I do what I can. Love ya, mate.’ And he wheeled away and half ran back to the van. Leaving Nathan clutching Dominic’s hand.
This was none of her business. She should go back into her sitting cum bedroom. But she was too interested to retreat.
Dom and Nathan stayed with their backs to her, watching the van disappear. Nathan didn’t release Dominic’s hand. When finally the sound of the van retreated to silence he glanced up at Dom and his small face was a mess of tears. ‘The Easter Bunny won’t come now.’
‘Yeah, he will,’ Dom said, placid in the face of the little boy’s distress. ‘You know the rules. If the Easter Bunny sees you eating an egg before Sunday he knows he doesn’t need to deliver eggs. But lots of people give eggs before Sunday. Three of my patients left me eggs and they’re sitting on my desk right now. I just have to be very good and not eat them.’
‘So I can’t eat Dad’s egg?’
‘Not until Sunday. Not if you want the bunny to come,’ Dom said, with all the gravity in the world.
He was great, Erin thought.
He was…gorgeous?
Um…what? Where had that come from? Gorgeous? Hardly appropriate.
Or, actually, incredibly appropriate. The man’s kindness made her blink back tears. Sexy came in all forms. Sexy came in the guise of a guy holding a little boy by the hand and discussing the Easter Bunny with the same gravity he might accord World Peace.
‘I guess,’ Nathan was saying, still doubtful.
‘It’s true. All you need do is put it with the others that we’ll eat after Easter.’
‘Okay,’ Nathan said, his face finally clearing as he decided to believe. Then he added, ‘I’m glad he’s gone. Will he come back soon?’
‘I don’t know, Nathe,’ Dom admitted, and the little boy’s face clouded.
‘He might,’ he whispered. But then the clouds disappeared again. ‘But he said he was going surfing for Easter and that’s days and days. He won’t come back till after the Easter bunny’s been. I’ll tell Martin.’
And he handed his egg to Dom, edged past the bundle of canine contentment on the floor and scooted off to find his…brother?
She didn’t think so. A few assumptions were being stood on their heads this morning.
Dom was standing in the hallway holding the egg. It really was ridiculously large.
Marilyn snoozed at his feet, with her three puppies. Erin could hear Nathan talking to Martin back in the kitchen.
How many responsibilities did this man have?
‘The boys are your…foster-kids?’ she ventured, and he nodded. He was watching her, an expression on his face like he
couldn’t figure her out.
‘What?’ she said.
He shook his head as if clearing fog. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Um…yeah, they’re my foster-kids.’
‘But you don’t have a wife.’
‘You don’t need a wife to foster kids.’
‘I thought…’
‘If I wanted to adopt a cute baby with no strings attached then, yeah, I’d need to be married. I’d need references practically from the Pope himself. But I take kids when there’s a problem-a reason they need closer supervision than even foster-parents can give. If I’m willing to take a kid like Martin, whose mother’s disappeared but who might surface at any minute, in any state, or Nathan, whose dad is…well, like you saw him, then there’s not so much competition that you’d notice. References from the Pope might be waived.’
‘But you’re a doctor. Part time?’ she ventured.
‘In this town? Full time and part time as well.’ Then, as her confusion became obvious, he added, ‘It’s manageable. I have a great housekeeper and the boys come with me a lot. They come here traumatised, caught up in their own dysfunctional worlds. With me they see lots of other worlds, many of them just as dysfunctional, but I give them a solid base. I give them rules and I give them a hug when they need one.’
He broke off as the doorbell pealed again. Nathan’s head emerged from the kitchen, looking fearful.
‘It’s okay, Nathe,’ he said. ‘Hop it. I’ll deal with it.’
Nathan disappeared. Dom tugged the door wide.
It was Charles. Six feet two, blond and tanned, wearing cream chinos, a quality linen shirt with top buttons casually unfastened, and soft leather boat shoes. He really was absurdly handsome, Erin thought. Behind him, in the driveway, was his Porsche. Sleek and handsome as he was.
Charles was a general physician whose patients numbered some of the wealthiest people in Melbourne. He knew what he wanted in life, did Charles, and he didn’t like hiccups.
What was happening now was clearly a hiccup, and it was the second hiccup in a week. The first had been on Tuesday when she’d knocked back his very reasonable request to marry him.
‘Erin.’ He looked straight past Dominic, seeing only her. His glance took her in, from her bare toes to her hair, still tangled and wet from the shower. ‘My God. You said you weren’t hurt. The crutches…’
A Special Kind Of Family Page 4
