Alessandro and the Cheery Nanny / Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell

by Amy Andrews

  ‘So…colleagues? Friends?’

  She quirked an eyebrow. ‘We’re back to that again, huh?’

  ‘You think you can’t do it?’

  ‘Oh, I can do it.’ Did he seriously think she had time to sit around pining after him? She stuck her hand out. ‘Can you?’

  Valentino regarded her outstretched fingers. Remembered how they’d felt digging into his back. ‘But of course.’ And he clasped her hand in his and gave it a firm shake. ‘I’ll see you at the clinic tomorrow.’

  Paige followed his broad back to her front door. He seemed to take up all her hallway and as some internal muscles protested her movement she was reminded of how big he was everywhere.

  Valentino pulled the door open, paused and turned. ‘What if there are consequences?’

  Paige regarded his serious face with a sinking feeling. Somehow, even without the dimples, it looked as sexy as hell. She didn’t like the direction of his thoughts.

  Paige sighed. ‘It’ll be fine.’ She hadn’t had a proper period since the twins had been born. She doubted she’d even ovulated regularly the last two years due to her borderline weight.

  She probably had the fertility of a panda.

  ‘It’s…safe?’

  She knew what he was asking and it was an assurance she felt one hundred per cent comfortable with giving, even though they both knew, as medical professionals, no time was one hundred per cent safe. ‘Yes. It’s safe.’ Still, she found it difficult to meet his gaze and she looked out at a point beyond his head, to the darkness of the street.

  Valentino reached forward and lightly grabbed her chin, directing her gaze back to his. He fixed her with a stare. One that told her he meant business. ‘I want to know, Paige. If…’

  The mere thought of it was so painful Paige couldn’t even contemplate it. She certainly was clueless to the slight edge of menace in his tone, to the fierce light in his eyes. Even mentioning it without actually saying the word was enough to fracture the surface of her heart and she shut her mind to it, blocked it like a force field.

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ she repeated, before stepping back, causing his arm to fall by his side.

  There would be no pregnancy.

  Valentino regarded her for a moment or two longer before delivering a slight bow and disappearing into the night.

  The next few weeks flew by. Life was fuller, crazier than normal. Further mapping sessions of McKenzie’s implant and twice-weekly speech therapy chewed up her remaining three weeks at home.

  But the rewards were amazing. After a few days it was evident that McKenzie heard just about everything and it was like witnessing the world being created all over again, seeing her wonderment of it all.

  Instruments in the toy box that had merely moved in the past now made noise. The drumstick did more than bounce off the taut surface of the bongos—it actually bonged. The tambourine did more than shimmy—it rattled. And the sleigh bells tinkled.

  But not just that. The doorbell chimed. And the plughole sucked and gurgled greedily as the water swirled away. And the television talked to her. The Wiggles talked to her! Every sound was new and amazing.

  In the beginning she’d caught McKenzie just looking at objects that created noise, as if expecting them to get up and produce sound completely unaided. But she’d caught on quickly and no object was safe.

  Her speech had also come on. In just a few weeks she already had a handful of words. Paige had never dared hope for the day that she would hear her daughter say ‘Mummy’. But she had. And it had simply been the best moment of her life.

  McKenzie still signed as she spoke—they both did—and Paige wondered how long it would be before her verbal communication skills were such that they out-stripped her signing vocabulary. They would always need to sign as McKenzie was still deaf without her external device so it was vital to keep up their signing vocabulary as well.

  And, anyway, being bilingual was such a skill—Valentino being a classic example—it would be a shame to lose it.

  Before Paige knew it, it was time to go back to work, which she did reluctantly. Every minute with her daughter as she discovered a whole new world was precious and Paige resented having to surrender any of them.

  Sure, McKenzie was in good hands with her parents but that didn’t stop the gut-wrenching emotion she felt as she kissed her daughter goodbye three mornings a week. The only consolation was she still got to see McKenzie when she came in for her speech therapy and she made sure she scheduled her daughter’s appointments for the days and times she was on the clinic.

  There had to be some advantages when you ran the show.

  Three weeks in and everything was back running like clockwork. The op had been successful, intensive therapy had been instituted and the care arrangements clicked smoothly back into place. And McKenzie hadn’t been sick in months. There was even some roundness to her face for a change, although Paige didn’t hold too high a hope for cracking the twentieth percentile any time soon.

  She and Valentino had even managed to find a happy medium in their relationship. She’d expected it to be awkward at first, like the day they’d first met again after that fateful night, but they’d both been invested in making it work. And he was great with McKenzie, who had also learnt to say ‘Dr Valentino’ very quickly.

  Finally there’d even been encouraging news with little Ben, who’d been transferred out of Intensive Care and admitted to a specialist acquired brain injury rehab ward.

  Things were great for once. All the planets were aligned. The gods were smiling. Life was good.

  And then it all went to hell.

  The last day of her third week back started as an ordinary day. Nothing remarkable. Until she was standing in neck-to-toe green, masked and hatted, waiting for Valentino to finish drying his hands and gown up, and a strong urge to go to the toilet gripped her bladder.

  She frowned as she mentally suppressed the urge. For goodness’ sake, she’d already been three times this morning already. Once when she woke up, once when she got to work and just prior to scrubbing up. How on earth could she possibly want to go again?

  And, anyway, she couldn’t just walk out of the theatre and go to the bathroom. She was scrubbed, sterile. It would require degowning and then rescrubbing and regowning, and with theatre times tight they didn’t have the luxury of running on the whims of her bladder.

  She gritted her teeth and ignored it, holding the cuff of Valentino’s glove open ready for him to thrust his hand straight in.

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured as he repeated the process on the other side.

  Paige could tell by the smile in his eyes that his dimples would be flashing beneath the mask. Normally that would be exceedingly distracting, despite their determination to keep things asexual, but today, as her bladder twinged again, it didn’t even rate.

  She clamped down on the sensation, trying for mind over matter as the three-hour operation stretched in front of her. There was no physical way her bladder could be full again.

  She’d had a glass of water with breakfast and that had been it. Years of working as a scrub nurse had taught her not to drink tea or coffee prior to commencing surgery for just this reason.

  It wasn’t physically possible to have anything in her bladder. Surely?

  Maybe she had a urinary tract infection? But no. It hadn’t stung or burned at all. Fever? She did feel hot but she was swaddled in a gown, under bright operating lights and holding her muscles so tight she was probably over-heating every cell in her body.

  Or maybe it was some kind of delayed cystitis from that night a few weeks ago? Valentino’s arm brushed hers and for a sweet second she was back on his lap again.

  Ten minutes later, though, she knew she couldn’t hold on any more. She was actually crossing her legs beneath her gown. ‘Darren can you scrub in, please?’ she asked, hoping the discomfort in her abdomen wasn’t detectable in her voice. Darren was one of the two scout nurses on for the theatre today.

  Va
lentino, who was just preparing the drill, stopped and looked down at her. ‘Everything okay?’

  She nodded as she passed him the next instrument. ‘Fine.’

  The five minutes it took for Darren to wash his hands, reenter the theatre, dry his hands and gown up felt like an hour as her bladder stretched to painful proportions. ‘Excuse me for a moment,’ she murmured stepping back from the table and degloving and degowning as quickly as possible without looking like her underwear was on fire.

  She made it to the bathroom in record time and had never been more pleased to sit on a toilet in her whole life. So when the sum total of fifteen mils was forthcoming Paige was totally unimpressed.

  What the hell?

  After a further ten minutes of sitting was no more productive, Paige finally gave up. She washed her hands in the sink, inspecting her face in the mirror. The hollows beneath her cheekbones seemed more pronounced in the harsh fluorescent light. Maybe she did have a UTI? One that just involved frequency? Or maybe a kidney stone was blocking the neck of her bladder, only allowing a dribble through at a time? A painless one?

  Hell, maybe she was the only woman on the planet to be in possession of a prostate gland?

  She shook her head and watched her reflection follow suit. Maybe it’d be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t happen again. Maybe she was going crazy and she should get back to work and stop worrying about something that was probably nothing.

  She hurried back to the theatre, washing her hands again before donning a mask and pushing through the swing doors. Valentino and Darren both looked up as she entered.

  ‘You want to scrub back in?’ Darren asked.

  Paige shook her head. She didn’t want to risk it. ‘You keep going. I’ll scout.’

  Which ended up being a wise decision. Paige spent the entire day in and out of the toilet. She may as well have stayed at home for all the help she’d been. And when the last patient was wheeled out of the theatre to Recovery she’d never been more pleased to clock off in her life.

  She changed into her civvies, grabbed her handbag out of her locker and hurried back to Audiology to update the day’s operating charts. The department had shut for the day and was deserted, for which she was grateful as she steamed into her office and made a quick phone call to her G.P.

  This situation was ridiculous and needed remedying as soon as possible. She was put on hold straight away and Paige tapped her foot.

  ‘I knew I’d find you here.’

  Paige startled a little as she looked up to see Nat beaming at her from the open doorway.

  ‘Hi.’ She smiled back, gesturing for her friend to enter.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Nat whispered, plonking herself in the chair opposite. ‘I didn’t realise you were on the phone.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’m on hold. What’s up? You look like you just won a million bucks.’

  Nat grinned. ‘Better. I’m—’

  Paige held a finger up as the receptionist came on the other end. ‘Just a sec,’ she said apologetically. ‘Hi, yes, my name’s Paige Donald. I was wondering if Dr Mantara could squeeze me in this afternoon?’

  Paige listened as the receptionist explained it was impossible and tried not to scream her frustration down the phone. There was no point in shooting the messenger. She took an early morning appointment the next day instead and hung up.

  Nat crinkled her brow. ‘Everything okay?’

  Paige sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked at her friend. They’d been close during school but life had pulled them apart again until the last few years. Paige just hadn’t had the time or an excess of emotional energy for the type of friendship most women valued. She didn’t realise how isolated she’d become until right now as the urge to unburden took her by surprise.

  ‘I think…’ She hesitated, unused to sharing such private matters. ‘I think I have a UTI.’

  ‘Okay.’ Nat leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk. ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’

  Paige told her about the day and the inconvenient frequency symptoms. ‘It has to be a UTI, right?’

  Nat regarded her for a few moments. ‘You’re not…? Could you be…pregnant?’

  It took a few seconds for Paige to compute what her friend had said. And she laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she dismissed. And then she sobered as a cold hand clutched at her gut. No way. She couldn’t be. Surely?

  Nat watched a procession of emotions march across her friend’s face. ‘Are you sure? I thought you and Valentino might be getting—’

  ‘Quite sure,’ Paige interrupted, her heart booming like church bells in her chest.

  Nat didn’t think Paige looked overly convinced. She reached into her handbag. ‘I just happen to have an extra one of these.’ She placed a packaged pregnancy test on the desk and pushed it towards Paige.

  Paige looked at it like it was a venomous snake. She could not be pregnant. Could not. An image rose unbidden in her mind. Daisy’s tiny white coffin covered in pale pink roses.

  Even now it had the power to paralyse her.

  ‘You know it’s the first thing the GP’s going to do anyway,’ Nat murmured. ‘Might as well save her the effort.’

  Paige nodded, knowing Nat was right. She looked at the test again, a sudden thought occurring to her. ‘Just happen to have this huh?’

  Nat shrugged. ‘I bought one of those two-in-ones…in case.’

  Paige could tell from her friend’s face that she’d already used the first one and was trying really hard to be sensitive to Paige’s situation in the face of her own good news. ‘Does this mean congratulations are in order?’

  Nat nodded and then grinned. ‘You’re the first one to know.’

  Paige grinned back, even though inside she felt bleaker than a Bronte moor. ‘That’s fabulous, Nat.’ She leaned forward and gave her friend a big hug. ‘Alessandro and Juliano will be over the moon.’

  ‘They’ll be ecstatic,’ Nat agreed. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Alessandro for the last two hours but he’s not answering. I just had to tell someone.’

  Paige smiled. ‘I feel honoured.’

  They chatted for the next few minutes about due dates and morning sickness until Nat’s phone beeped with a message from Alessandro. ‘He’s at home.’

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Off you go,’ Paige teased. When Nat hesitated she said, ‘I mean it, go. I’ll be fine.’

  Nat stood. ‘You will do the test, won’t you?’

  Paige eyeballed it, remembering the last time she’d done a pregnancy test. The joy. The hope. She looked away. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m going to ring in the morning and check on you.’

  Paige rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Nat leaned down and gave her friend a quick squeeze. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  The room seemed preternaturally quiet after Nat left. There was just Paige and the test and her heart beat ticking loudly in the silence like the doomsday clock.

  Her fingers trembled as she picked it up and turned it over and over. She couldn’t do pregnant again. After Daisy had died she’d vowed to never make herself vulnerable like that again. She couldn’t stand nine months of living on the edge, being paranoid about things going wrong, demanding scans every week, thinking the worst should there be no foetal movements for a minute, an hour, a day.

  Giving birth in a haze of anxiety, constantly testing the baby’s hearing, driving herself insane at the slightest sniffle.

  Oh, God. What if it was twins again?

  And what about McKenzie? Her child, the one she already had, needed her. There was no time for another. Certainly not for two. There was no spare time to give at all.

  She just couldn’t do it again.

  ‘Are you going to take that or just stare at it?’

  Paige didn’t have to look up to know Valentino was standing there. He sounded annoyed.

  He could get in line.

  ‘I have a UTI,’ she said, raising her face defiantly.


  Even glowering at her from the doorway he looked magnificent and her breath caught in her throat. His hair was all messy from the cap and his top two buttons were undone. In another time and place, having his baby would have made her very happy indeed.

  ‘Is that why you kept leaving the theatre today?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said testily.

  ‘So why bother with that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Just pre-empting my GP.’

  Valentino’s heart beat a crazy tattoo in his chest. What if she was pregnant? What if his baby was already growing inside her? ‘What if it’s positive?’

  Paige felt her stress levels rise a notch. ‘It won’t be.’

  ‘What if it is?’ he insisted.

  ‘It isn’t.’

  Valentino wanted to shake her. Years ago he’d known briefly what it was like to have created life before it had been snatched away. He was surprised now at how fiercely he still wanted it. ‘So go and prove me wrong.’

  Paige swallowed. She should. She knew she should. But at least here and now, with the test tucked safely away in its packaging, she could believe in her denial. Once it was out, once the test had been done, it became a whole different proposition.

  She stood. ‘Fine.’ It had been twenty minutes since she had last gone and the urge had returned with a vengeance. May as well get it over and done with. Then at least she could discount pregnancy and get on with having the right tests done.

  Valentino stood his ground as she brushed by. He would not be shut out the second time around. ‘I’ll wait in the lounge.’

  Paige’s legs felt like wet noodles as she made her way through the lounge area to the staff toilet. Her hands shook as she undid the packaging and it took her several attempts before she was able to liberate it. Between her nerveless fingers and the vibrations of her heartbeat she was frightened she was going to drop the damn thing in the loo!

  She doubted very much that Valentino understood the potential impact of this test. How could a footloose, fancy-free, playboy bachelor understand the full implications? For him it was no doubt a test of his virility. Proof of his manliness.

  But for her? It was a whole different proposition.