One Life Changing Moment

by Lucy Clark

  His breath mingled with hers and time seemed to stand still. He looked down into her upturned face, unable to believe how incredibly beautiful she was. As though unable to resist any longer, he reached out a hand and brushed the loose lock of hair behind her ear, delighting in the sensation of being able to touch her, even in such a small way.

  Five years ago there had been none of these crazy, chaotic and confusing emotions. It had been the last thing John had expected when he’d reread her hospital file the other night. He’d been intrigued to see what she’d accomplished during the past five years, interested to see her again, but never had it crossed his mind that within such a short space of time he’d be intimately drawn to her.

  Even with Jacqueline things hadn’t moved this fast. They’d been colleagues, then friends and then slowly that friendship had developed into something more. There had been none of this instant attraction that had hit him at various times since his life had once more been connected with Mackenzie’s.

  Through hooded lashes he looked down at her glorious face. Her soft skin, her rosy cheeks and cute little nose, not to mention her provocative mouth, which was still open slightly, as though desperately waiting for him. With his heart thumping so wildly beneath his ribs, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist.

  ‘Mummy!’

  John pulled back with a start. ‘Did you hear that?’ He was looking around, staring out the car’s front windscreen.

  ‘Mummy! Mummy! You’re here!’

  ‘Oh, my goodness.’ Mackenzie made to get out of the car quickly but had forgotten about her seat belt, the stern material holding her firmly in place.

  ‘Here,’ John said, instantly coming to her rescue by unclipping the belt. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, her hand already opening the door, her legs swinging around so she could get out of the small car.

  ‘Ruthie!’ she called, and John watched as the brightest and most beaming smile he’d ever seen crossed Mackenzie’s face as she knelt down by the front of the car, her arms held wide open as a young girl with shoulder-length blonde ringlets and big green eyes just like her mother’s hurtled forward like some sort of ballistic missile.

  Mackenzie scooped the girl into her arms and twirled her around, breathing in her daughter’s sweet innocence and allowing it to renew her own strength. ‘Hello, my scrum-diddly-umptious girl.’

  Ruthie giggled at her mother’s words, smothering Mackenzie’s cheek with kisses. ‘You’re so funny, Mummy.’

  ‘I missed you.’ Mackenzie shifted Ruthie to her hip, cradling her close as Ruthie started chattering away, telling her mother everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other, but she immediately stopped short when she realised that a man was clambering out of her mother’s car.

  ‘Who’s that?’ She pointed and Mackenzie quickly lowered her daughter’s hand.

  ‘It’s rude to point, sweet-pea,’ she said softly as she watched John’s rather clumsy exit from her car. She couldn’t help but giggle at the awkward sight made by such a tall man getting out of a small car.

  ‘What’s funny?’ Ruthie wanted to know, looking from her mother to the man now walking towards them, but Mackenzie didn’t reply.

  ‘This is my Ruthie,’ Mackenzie told John.

  ‘Hello, there. I’m very pleased to meet you, Ruthie.’

  ‘You talk funny.’ Ruthie giggled at his accent.

  ‘Ruthie, this is my…uh…colleague from work…John.’ John tried not to smile as Mackenzie stumbled over her words. It was difficult not to when the woman was so naturally charming. ‘He comes from England. That’s why he speaks differently to us.’

  ‘Cool. Are you a doctor, too?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Do you work with my mum? Doing the operations and stuff?’

  ‘Yes, I do. We look after a lot of pa—’

  ‘Wait, wait, wait!’ Ruthie demanded, interrupting him, and Mackenzie instantly stopped walking towards the house.

  ‘What, what, what?’ she said earnestly.

  ‘I know a story you told me about a man called John.’ Her words were firm and direct as she looked from John and then back to her mother. ‘He was the man who helped Mummy to make me born.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Mackenzie nodded. ‘This is the same John.’

  ‘You told her about that?’ He seemed surprised.

  ‘Of course. Every child has a right to know about their birth, and while Ruthie’s was probably a little bit more…dramatic than others, it’s still her story.’

  ‘You’re my John?’ Ruthie was astounded, looking at him with her little mouth hanging open in astonishment.

  ‘Uh…well…yes. I suppose I am.’

  ‘Mummy told me that if it wasn’t for you, if you hadn’t come along and helped her, I might have been really sick. You saved me.’

  John raised his eyebrows at this information and looked at Mackenzie, who shrugged one shoulder. Given her foster-home upbringing, he could well imagine her need to be as open and as honest with her daughter as possible. ‘Did she also tell you that she had the hardest part of all?’

  ‘No.’ Ruthie’s eyes were as big and as wide and as green as her mother’s.

  ‘Giving birth is really hard.’ John looked from Ruthie back to Mackenzie. ‘And your mum was amazing. I was so proud of her.’

  At his words, Ruthie tightened her arms around her mother’s neck. ‘She’s the bestest mummy.’

  John kept his gaze on Mackenzie, whose sparkling green eyes were wide with astonishment at his praise. ‘I can well believe it.’ His voice was warm.

  Mackenzie wondered how it was possible that he could make her feel all gooey inside simply with a few well-intentioned words? It appeared he still had as much faith in her as he had five years ago but now, added to that mix, there was a hefty dose of mutual attraction too.

  As they headed inside to collect Ruthie’s things and to say goodbye to Grandma Liz, as Ruthie called her, Mackenzie couldn’t help but wonder whether John was happy about their interrupted kiss. Of course the atmosphere inside the small car had been nice and cosy and things had just sort of…happened, but as she glanced at him from time to time it was difficult to get a read on what he might be thinking.

  He’d confessed to not being able to settle in one place for too long, always wanting to move around, to try new places and have new experiences, but was the main reason behind that decision to stop himself from putting down roots once more? From opening his heart? From moving on with his life?

  She knew how difficult it was to start a new life after the loss of a spouse and while she and Warick may not have had the most perfect of marriages, it had certainly been another big change for her to deal with, but she’d had Ruthie to focus on. John had had no one.

  As she drove home, Ruthie chattered away happily in the back seat of the car, telling them both about some of the games she and the other kids had played after school at Grandma Liz’s.

  ‘That certainly sounds like a lot of fun,’ John responded. ‘What else did you do today?’

  Ruthie thought for a moment before drawing in a deep breath and saying, ‘Well…’ Then she launched into another long spiel about something that had happened at school when one of the boys in her class had laughed so hard at something that he’d made milk come out of his nose.

  Although Mackenzie was tired, she was grateful for Ruthie’s constant chatter. Usually, after a long day at the hospital, Mackenzie would ask her daughter for a bit of silence as they drove home but today she was ever so grateful to Ruthie for ensuring there wasn’t a dull moment. The one thing Mackenzie was having difficulty trying to comprehend was the fact that she was presently driving John Watson to her home!

  She wasn’t the type of person to ‘entertain’ and rarely invited people back to her town house. The girls—Bergan, Reggie and Sunainah—were definitely the exception but, then, she’d known them for such a long time.

  And that was the pr
oblem, as far as she could see, where John was concerned. They had a bond, one that had been forged during difficult and tragic circumstances, which meant her relationship with him was completely different not only from that with any of her colleagues but any of the men she’d dated over the past few years.

  Her home was her sanctuary, a place where she could throw off her worries and cares and just chill with Ruthie. So why was she pulling into her driveway with John sitting beside her, his knees still scrunched up close to his body, chatting animatedly with her daughter?

  She was still reeling from the fact that there was something very different existing between them and the realisation that both of them felt it. Even when she’d first started dating Warick, with his practised charm and charisma, she hadn’t felt that overwhelming sense of…rightness. She felt it with John, in spades. And that was a definite worry, one she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with.

  She turned into the small cul-de-sac where four identical townhouses stood. She and Ruthie lived at number two, Bergan lived at number four and an elderly couple, the Allingtons, lived at number three. Townhouse number one had been on the market for at least the past six months but still had no takers, the large real estate sign starting to look a little faded in the morning sunlight.

  Mackenzie quickly switched off the engine and climbed from the driver’s seat, the need for space, for some fresh air pressing heavily on her sensibilities. Just focus on your routine, she told herself.

  ‘Don’t forget your backpack,’ she told her daughter as Ruthie continued to chatter to John, easily taking his big hand in her little one as she led him into their home, desperate to show her John her special, sparkly, purple bedroom.

  ‘All my friends like pink but I like purple the best but I sometimes like a little bit of pink because I think they go really nicely together, don’t you think so too, John?’

  Ruthie continued to chatter and indeed, when she opened the door, John’s senses were assailed with a flood of several different shades of purple. Bedsheets, curtains, walls were all purple. The large princess castle rug, which took up most of her floor, was in shades of pinks and purple. Even the fairy-princess netting Ruthie had around her bed was a lovely lilac colour. Only the carpet, which he glimpsed around the edges of the room, thanks to the rug, all the toys, dolls and books scattered here and there, was a beige colour.

  ‘It’s such a little girl’s room,’ he murmured, a slow, sad smile crossing his face.

  ‘Come and look at this, John,’ Ruthie demanded, tugging on his hand and drawing him further into the room. She instructed him to sit on her bed and proceeded to introduce him to a few of her dolls.

  ‘And this is Zoe,’ she said, unzipping her backpack and pulling out a well-loved doll who was dressed as an angel. ‘She’s my absolutely favourite. We do everything together.’ Ruthie stepped forward and whispered loudly, ‘I take her to school in my bag because she really likes going to school but the teacher said I can’t have her sitting on my desk because I look at Zoe, not the board, but I can play with her at lunchtime and we have so much fun, don’t we, Zoe?’

  Ruthie was now addressing her words to the doll in question and much to his shock and surprise John became aware of a rush of emotion flooding through him.

  It had been a long time since he’d been surrounded by such things, things that were so perfect for any little girl, just as they’d been perfect for his daughter. He’d thought he’d dealt with his loss, keeping himself busy and occupied and focused on work, on helping others wherever possible, and yet, sitting on the comfortable purple bed, surrounded by similar toys to the ones he and Jacqueline had given Mune-hie when she’d come to live with them, he was swamped with repressed emotions.

  It had been their goal to provide for her, to give her a life filled with love and laughter. It had been so difficult not to spoil her, not to buy her the latest toys or clothes simply because it had given them pleasure.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Ruthie asked him a moment later. She was standing in the middle of her room, head on the side, watching him closely.

  ‘Er…what do you mean?’ John frowned quizzically, not quite sure of the last things Ruthie had said to him as he’d zoned out and taken a trip down memory lane—a lane he’d vowed never to walk down again.

  ‘You’re crying.’

  ‘Am I?’ John instantly raised a hand to his cheek and was surprised to feel a lone tear sliding down from his eye.

  ‘Why are you crying?’

  Mackenzie heard her daughter’s words to John just as she reached the top of the stairs. John was crying? What on earth had happened in the past few minutes since she’d left them alone? From where she presently stood on the top stair she could see right into Ruthie’s room. John was sitting on the bed and Ruthie was standing on the rug, Zoe held tightly in her hands. Mackenzie was about to walk in when John’s next words stopped her.

  ‘Because your beautiful room reminds me of another little girl’s room. She liked purple, too.’

  ‘What’s her name?’ Ruthie asked.

  ‘Her name…was Mune-hie.’

  ‘Moon-hey?’ Ruthie repeated.

  John smiled at the attempt. ‘Close. It’s a Tarparniian name. It means “smart and peaceful”.’

  ‘That’s pretty. Mummy said my names means “friend to everyone” and that’s what I am. I’m a friend to everyone. Me and Zoe. We’re friends to everyone.’ She gave Zoe a little kiss then returned her attention to John. ‘So can I see her?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Moon-hey.’

  ‘Oh.’ John’s smile slowly slipped away. ‘Er…no. Sorry.’

  ‘But can I be her friend?’ Ruthie implored earnestly, and as Mackenzie watched, she felt a lump begin to form in her throat. ‘I’m good at making friends.’

  ‘I know, Ruthie, but…um…you see…Mune-hie died. About eight years ago.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ruthie nodded as though she completely understood all about death. ‘My daddy died but Mummy said he gave her the bestest present ever and that was me.’ Ruthie looked down at Zoe, then back to John. ‘You can hold Zoe if you want. She’ll make you feel better.’ She held her most favourite doll, her most prized possession out to him. ‘She’s a really good friend, too.’

  Mackenzie watched as John accepted the doll, holding the raggedy, much-loved thing in his big hands, unsure what to do with it.

  ‘Just hold her close and give her a cuddle,’ Ruthie instructed in that bossy way of hers.

  John just sat there, looking at the doll.

  ‘No. I said hug her close.’ Ruthie was starting to get a little demanding and Mackenzie took that as her cue to make her presence known. She sniffed and cleared her throat before walking towards them, John’s gaze instantly melding with hers.

  In one brief moment she saw pain, anguish and immense heartbreak. The man had lost his wife and daughter and while he’d no doubt done his best to come to terms with it over the past eight years, sitting and chatting with her five-year-old daughter had clearly brought back a lot of repressed memories.

  ‘How are we doing in here?’ Mackenzie asked, her tone a little over-bright. John quickly rose from the bed and handed Zoe back to Ruthie.

  ‘Er…thanks,’ he mumbled.

  Mackenzie looked at Ruthie, who was hugging the doll close once more, her wide eyes radiating confusion. ‘Princess, can you please go to the toilet and wash your hands then downstairs to the kitchen to set the table for dinner.’

  ‘But I’m showing John all my dolls.’

  ‘Please, Ruthie.’ There was a sternness in Mackenzie’s voice that brooked no argument.

  ‘Okay,’ Ruthie returned, and after giving a heavy sigh, Zoe tight in her hands, girl and doll headed off to do their mother’s bidding.

  ‘Sorry about that, John. We don’t get many new visitors and she’s so proud of her room that she shows it off to everyone who walks in the door.’ John didn’t say anything. Instead, he just stood there, on Ruthie’s rug, star
ing down at the rest of Ruthie’s dolls. The silence surrounding them seemed to intensify. ‘I…er…overheard what you told Ruthie, about your daughter, I mean.’

  ‘She…er…Mune-hie liked her dolls…’ He stopped and swallowed a few times. ‘Her room was very frilly and…um…’ He stopped again then shook his head.

  ‘I can’t do this.’

  Mackenzie frowned at his words, concern in her tone. ‘Can’t do what, John?’

  ‘This!’ He indicated the space between them then waved his arms to indicate the entire room.

  ‘I’m not sure—’

  He shook his head again. ‘I’m sorry, Mackenzie. For everything.’

  With that, he stalked from Ruthie’s purple room, rushed downstairs and was out the front door so fast she barely had time to go after him.

  ‘John?’ she called as she headed outside, but he was already halfway down her street, disappearing from her view.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JOHN STOOD ON the balcony of his hotel, once more looking down at the busy streets of Maroochydore as the sun began to rise on a new day. He knew that as he was going to be here for quite some time, he’d better get his act together and find somewhere other than the hotel to stay, but things hadn’t exactly gone to plan since he’d arrived on the Sunshine Coast.

  Mackenzie. He shook his head. When he’d told her she was tying him in knots, he hadn’t been joking. John dragged in a breath and pushed his hands through his hair. Between Mackenzie stirring up his hormones and little Ruthie his memories, he wondered if he’d ever get his mind back on track.

  He hadn’t expected Ruthie’s easygoing and accepting nature to open up the box he’d thought he’d nailed shut long ago. Mackenzie’s daughter was as sweet and as innocently precious as Mune-hie had been at the same age so it was no wonder he’d almost broken down.

  He should probably call Mackenzie and apologise for walking out on her and Ruthie the way he had yesterday evening. He prided himself on being a gentleman and yet he’d displayed such ungentlemanly behaviour. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket, tapping her number into his phone with his thumb. He was about to press ‘send’ when he remembered she’d be in the process of taking Ruthie to school.