The Nurse's Christmas Gift

by Tina Beckett

  ‘You were always strong. They were just difficult days.’

  Baby Hope stirred in her cot, one of her arms jerking to the side until her fingers were pressed against the clear acrylic of the incubator. Annabelle touched her index finger to the barrier separating her from the baby. ‘This is the strong one. I’m envisioning a bright future for her.’

  ‘She has a great chance.’

  Annabelle sucked down a deep breath and let it out in a rush. ‘Thank you for all you did to help her.’

  ‘She did most of the work. She stuck around until we could find a donor heart.’

  ‘Yes, she did.’

  Max stood up and held out his hand, the ominous warning of his dream fading slightly. ‘Let’s let her get some rest.’

  ‘Good idea. I need to get to work and then check in with my sister.’ She took his hand, their gloves preventing them from feeling each other’s skin, but it was still intimate, her grip returning his. He found himself continuing to hold her hand for several seconds longer than necessary. ‘You’ll let me know if there’s any change in her condition, won’t you?’

  ‘You know I will.’ He paused, not sure how she would feel about what he was about to say. ‘You’ll let me know about Nate, won’t you? I know I’ve never met him, but I care about your family.’

  He had loved her parents and siblings, had liked seeing what it was like to be part of a large and caring family. It had had its downsides as well, the births of her nieces and nephews seeming to increase Annabelle’s anguish over her own lack of having babies, but that hadn’t been anyone’s fault. As upset as he’d been at times over what he’d seen as meddling, he was grateful her family had been there to give her the support he’d never had as a child and couldn’t seem to manage as an adult.

  ‘I will. And thank you.’

  With that, Annabelle peeled off her gloves, threw them in the rubbish bin, and went out of the door.

  * * *

  ‘You go to the party, honey.’

  Annabelle clenched her phone just a little tighter. ‘Are you sure, Mum? I can spend the night there with you instead.’

  ‘Don’t do that. Nate is fine. He’s resting comfortably right now.’

  ‘And Jessie and Walter?’ Her sister had to be frantic with worry. With a husband who travelled five days a week, it couldn’t be easy to deal with a child’s health crisis while his father worked to make a decent living.

  ‘Walter is staying home this week. They’re setting up timetables with their team of doctors. It looks like Nate’s prognosis is better than it could have been. The tumour is not malignant, and they’re hopeful they can get all of it with surgery.’

  Even though it wasn’t malignant, meaning it wouldn’t spread wildly through Nate’s body, it could still regrow, if they didn’t get absolutely every piece of it when they operated. But resecting a tumour and differentiating between tumour cells and healthy tissue was one of the hardest jobs a surgeon had. At least with Baby Hope’s surgery, once the transplant was done, there was no growth of foreign tissue to contend with. There were other problems that could arise, yes, like her a-fib, but cells of the old heart wouldn’t hang around and cause trouble later. Once it was out of the body, it was gone for good.

  She hadn’t told her mum yet that Max was working at her hospital or that he was the one she was going to the party with. Somehow she needed to break the news to her. But she wasn’t sure if she should do it now, with the worry of Nate hanging over her head. The last thing her mother needed was to lose sleep over another of her children. Her family had been shocked—and horrified—when they’d heard that she and Max had separated. So she had no idea how her mum would react. She’d probably be thrilled...and hopeful. Something else Annabelle didn’t want her family being. She and Max were not getting back together.

  ‘Who are you going with? Ella?’

  Oh, great. Here it came.

  ‘No. Not Ella.’ She’d better just get it over with. ‘I’m actually going with Max.’

  There was a pause. A long one. Annabelle could practically hear the air between their two phones vibrating.

  ‘Mum? Are you there?’

  ‘I’m here.’ Another hesitation. ‘I didn’t know he was back in England.’

  ‘He came back a week ago.’ She bit her lip. This was turning out to be harder than she’d expected.

  ‘Okay, then. I didn’t know you’d been in contact with him.’

  Oh, yes. Much harder.

  ‘By coincidence, he’s come to work at the same hospital as I am, here in Cheltenham.’ Before her mother could jump to conclusions, she hurried to finish. ‘He wound up here quite by accident. He’s taking another surgeon’s place while she goes on maternity leave.’

  ‘You’re positive he didn’t know you were there?’

  And there was that note of hopefulness she’d been hoping to avoid.

  ‘Yes, I’m absolutely positive.’

  ‘I wonder...’ Her mother let whatever she was going to say trail off into nothing. Then she came back. ‘Why don’t you and Max come to London a little earlier? We’re just getting ready to put up the tree and decorate it. You didn’t help us put on the ornaments last year, and you know everyone would love to have you there. And Max, of course. Nate... Well, he would love it.’

  Oh, Lord, how was she going to get out of this? She’d had no idea her mother would suggest she come over and help decorate the tree. Especially not with her ex in tow.

  ‘I’m not sure Max will want to—’

  ‘It certainly can’t hurt to ask. And if he doesn’t want to join us, he can just pick you up at the house later and off you’ll go to the party.’ Another pause, quicker this time. ‘What kind of party did you say it was?’

  ‘A Doctors Without Borders fundraiser.’

  ‘Isn’t that who Max left—I mean worked with?’

  Her mum was right. Annabelle might have been the one to ask him to leave, but Doctors Without Borders had been Max’s escape route. They had used to talk about going and working together. But in the end, Max had gone alone.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is he going back with them once he’s finished his contract at the hospital?’

  Something in Annabelle’s stomach twisted until it hurt. No, that had been her, clenching her abs until they shook. She’d asked him that same question at the pub. ‘I don’t know what his plans are after that, Mum.’

  ‘So this might be our last chance to see him for a while?’ Her mum called something to her father, but she couldn’t hear what it was. Great. She could only hope that she wasn’t telling him that Max was back and that it would be good to have the family together again.

  Her mum knew that Max had left, but she’d never told her that she’d served him with divorce papers soon afterwards. It had been a painful time in her life and she’d kept most of it to herself. And then as time had gone on and Max hadn’t sent his portion of the paperwork back, it was as if Annabelle had put it to the back of her mind like a bad dream that had happened once and was then forgotten.

  This probably wasn’t a good time to bring up the fact that a reconciliation was highly unlikely. Max had given no indication that he wanted to get back together with her. In fact, even when he’d towed her from the restaurant and kissed her in the park, he’d referred to what was going on between them as ‘the spark’. Physical attraction. People could be attracted to each other without it going any deeper than that.

  ‘I’ll ask him. But don’t be disappointed if he’d rather not come, Mum.’

  ‘I won’t. But you’ll come, even if he chooses not to, won’t you?’

  There was no way she was going to be able to get out of it. And actually she didn’t want to. This was a family tradition that she’d participated in every year except for the last one, when she’d jus
t been getting situated at Teddy’s and had been too busy with all the changes to be able to take a train home to London. With Nate’s diagnosis, though, she had to go. ‘I’ll be there, Mum, but I probably won’t be able to stay for dinner.’

  ‘Of course not. Tell Max I’m looking forward to seeing him.’

  Okay. Hadn’t she just explained that he might not want to come?

  She would invite him. And then let him decide what he wanted to do. And if he agreed to go? Well, she’d have to decide how to tell him that her family wasn’t privy to one small detail of their relationship: that not only had she asked him to leave, but she’d also asked him for a divorce. And the only thing lacking to make that happen...was Max’s signature on a piece of paper.

  * * *

  ‘You what?’

  Sitting in front of Annabelle’s mum and dad’s house, Max wasn’t sure what on earth had possessed him to say yes to this crazy side trip. Because he was suddenly having second thoughts.

  Especially now.

  ‘You didn’t tell them we’re divorcing?’ The words tasted bitter as he said them, but how could she have neglected to tell her parents that their marriage was over, and that it had been her choice?

  Surely they’d realised, when he’d never come home...

  ‘There just never seemed to be a good time to mention it. Someone was always being born. And then my aunt Meredith passed away a year and a half ago. My dad retired six months after that. It’s just been—’

  ‘Life as usual in the Brookes’ household.’ He remembered well how frenetic and chaotic things got, with lots of laughter and some tears. It had taken him a while to get used to the noise—and there was a lot of it—but the love they had for each other had won him over. Especially when they had drawn him into the fold as if he’d always been a part of their close-knit group. It was what he’d always wanted, but never had. He’d been in heaven. While it lasted.

  ‘Please don’t be angry. I’ll tell them eventually. Probably not tonight, since it’s Christmas time, and with Nate’s illness...’

  ‘It’s okay. Maybe it’s easier this way. They did know we weren’t living together any more.’

  ‘They knew we’d separated, yes, of course. I left our flat and came home before moving to the Cotswolds.’

  ‘Yes, the flat...’ He almost laughed. Well, he guessed they were even, then, because there was something he hadn’t told her either. That he hadn’t sold the flat once she’d moved out of it, even though his monthly cleaning lady had called him to let him know Annabelle was moving home and that she’d said he could do what he wished to with the flat. Those words had hit him right in the gut. Somehow he’d never been able to picture her moving out of the place they’d turned into a home. He’d assumed he would sign the place over to her once the paperwork was finalised. But then she’d moved out. And the paperwork had never been signed.

  Why was that?

  ‘What about it?’ Annabelle turned to him, her discomfiture turning to curiosity.

  ‘We still have it, actually.’

  Her head cocked. ‘Still have it?’

  ‘I never got around to selling it.’

  Her indrawn breath was sharp inside the space of his small sports car. ‘But why?’

  That was a question he wasn’t going to examine too closely right now. ‘I was overseas on and off and it got pushed to a back burner. As time went on, well, it just never happened.’

  ‘Who’s living there?’

  ‘No one. I never sublet it. Suzanne cleans it once a month, just like always. When repairs are needed, her husband comes over and does them.’ He shrugged. ‘I halfway thought maybe I’d return to London at some point.’

  Except every time he’d got close to thinking about his home city, he somehow hadn’t been able to bring himself to come back and visit. Instead, he’d landed in several different cities in between his stints with Doctors Without Borders.

  Annabelle smiled and it lit up the inside of the car. ‘I’m glad. I loved that place.’

  ‘So did I.’ Well, they were going to look awfully out of place at a tree-decorating party with their fancy clothes on. But she’d seemed so uncomfortable when she’d relayed her mother’s request that he hadn’t wanted to make her feel even worse—or have to go back to her mum and tell her that he’d refused to take part. That would have been churlish of him. At least now he knew why the invitation had been extended. If they’d been divorced, Max was pretty sure he’d have been persona non grata in this particular family, even if he hadn’t been the one to initiate it.

  Climbing out of the car, he went around to Annabelle’s side and opened it for her. Out she stepped, a vision in red. Until she tried to move to the side so he could close the door and tripped over the hem of her gown, careening sideways. He grabbed her around the waist, his fingers sliding across the bare skin of her back as he did so.

  Her momentum kept her moving and her arms went around his neck in an effort to regain her footing. ‘Oh! Max, I’m so sorry...’

  Just then the front door to the house opened, and people poured out of the opening, catching them tangled together.

  Not good.

  Because it didn’t look as if he’d just been saving her from a fall. It looked as if they were having a private moment.

  Not hardly.

  Annabelle saw them at the same time as he did and quickly pulled back. So fast that she almost flung herself off balance all over again. He kept hold of her for a second or two longer to make sure she had her footing. Then they were surrounded by her family, and Annabelle was hugging various adults and squatting down to squeeze little ones of all sizes. He couldn’t prevent a smile. This was the Annabelle he remembered, uncaring of whether or not her dress got dusty. The people she loved always came first.

  Just as he once had.

  He’d forgotten that in all of the unhappy moments that had passed between them. These had been good times. Happy times. And...he missed them.

  George Brookes came around and extended his hand. ‘Good to see you, Maxwell.’ His booming voice and formal use of his name was just like old times as well. There wasn’t a hint of recrimination on the man’s face. Or in his attitude. Just a father welcoming his son-in-law for a typical visit.

  Max squeezed his hand, reaching over to give him a man’s quick embrace, then gave himself over to greeting the family he’d once been a part of.

  Bittersweet. He shouldn’t have come. And yet he was very glad he had.

  Jessica came up to hug him. He held her shoulders and looked into her face. ‘How are you and Walter holding up?’

  Her chin wobbled precariously, but she didn’t start crying. ‘We’re doing better now that you and Annie are home.’

  Home.

  Yes, he’d once considered this the home his childhood abode never was. And the Brookeses had been the family he no longer had. Despite his own parents’ faults, he suddenly missed them. Regretted never once visiting their graves.

  Once he’d lost the right to be a part of Annabelle’s family, the children of Africa had become his family. And they had loved more freely and with more joy than anything he’d ever seen. They’d taught him a lot about unconditional love.

  Something he’d never really given to anyone. Even Anna. He’d always held something back, afraid of being hurt. And in the end, he’d demanded she give up something she dearly wanted.

  He’d been wrong in that. Even though he’d told himself time and time again that it had been to save Annabelle the pain of future miscarriages, maybe he’d been more interested in saving himself.

  He didn’t have time to think about it for long, though, because he was soon whisked back into the bosom of a family he’d dearly missed, sitting on the arm of the sofa while Annabelle and her sisters held up ornament after ornament, reminiscing about whe
re each had come from. Some were home-made. Some were fancy and expensive. But each held some kind of special meaning to this family.

  Anna was gorgeous in her flowing red gown. Off the shoulder, but with some loose straps that draped over her upper arms, it fitted her perfectly, the snug top giving way to a full loose skirt that swished with every twitch of her hips. And they twitched a lot. Every once in a while she threw him a smile that was more carefree than any he’d seen from her in a long, long time. He knew that smile. She’d once worn it almost constantly. When he’d come home from work. When they’d gazed at each other across the dinner table. When they’d made love deep into the night...

  His throat tightened, and he dipped a finger beneath his bow tie in an effort to give himself a little more room to breathe, even though he knew that wasn’t the problem. In his hands, Max held the long white gloves Anna planned on wearing to the party, but had taken off so she wouldn’t drop and break any ornaments. In the back of all their minds was Nate and his diagnosis, but when Max looked at the little blond boy, he was smiling and laughing on the floor as he played with his siblings and cousins. Suddenly Max wished he could commit this scene to memory so that he would never forget this moment.

  When Nate got up from his place on the floor and came to stand in front of him, looking at him with curious eyes, the tightness in his throat increased.

  ‘Where’s my ball?’

  He blinked. Max wasn’t sure why the boy was asking him, but he was not about to refuse him. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You help find?’

  ‘Sure.’ Getting to his feet, he tucked Anna’s gloves into his pocket and held out a hand to the little boy. As he did, his doctor’s mind took in the subtle signs of illness. Nate’s small stature, the frailness of his fingers beneath Max’s. Jessica sent him a look with raised brows.

  ‘He’s looking for his ball?’ Max had to raise his voice to be heard.

  ‘It’s in the basket by the far wall in the dining room.’ Jessica glanced at her son, the raw emotion in her eyes unmistakable. ‘Thanks, Max.’