Found: A Father For Her Child

by Amy Andrews

  She opened another document and clicked on the ‘print’ icon again. A copy of her resignation was in her hands in a matter of seconds. She looked it over. Fear and uncertainty grasped at her gut. But as she folded it to fit into a sterile yellow envelope she knew she was doing the right thing. This job was slowly strangling her. She knew that now. Thanks to Charlie and the centre. She was ready to go back to the coalface.

  She passed the boardroom on her way to the medical director’s office, envelope in hand. She felt strangely compelled to enter. On this, her last day, she needed to confront a few ghosts.

  She looked around at the rich, elegant décor. She inhaled and the smell of leather and wood assaulted her nostrils. Before her current assignment this room had always given her goose-bumps. There was something strangely seductive about the management nerve centre. The room where all the decisions were made. The power was almost tangible. She had known the minute she’d set foot in it that this was her destiny.

  Now the room was stifling. Oppressive. The thought of sitting at this table and talking policies and strategic planning left her empty. She left quickly, wanting no reminder of the mistake she’d nearly made, thinking that this was her path in life. If nothing else, and despite her broken heart, she had Charlie to thank for removing her blinkers.

  She strode purposefully to her boss’s office. He wasn’t in. She placed the yellow envelope on his desk, where he couldn’t fail to see it when he returned. And then turned around and walked out of the hospital. Today was a new beginning for her. Her personal life may have been a mess but her medical career was finally back on track.

  Charlie was in his office, talking to Joe, when Carrie arrived.

  ‘Hi, Joe.’

  ‘Hey, Carrie.’ He winked. ‘We’ve missed you around here.’

  Carrie nodded distractedly, her eyes barely acknowledging him as she sought the one pair of eyes she’d come there for. ‘Hello, Charlie.’

  Charlie stood up, encouraged by the shimmer in her whiskey-coloured depths. ‘Hi.’

  They stood staring at each other hungrily for a few moments. She at the door, he at his desk. Joe rolled his eyes and gave Carrie a gentle push inside, closing the door and shutting them away in a bubble of privacy.

  Carrie smiled and took a step forward. ‘I looked over your ideas.’ She threw the document on the table. ‘I think we can save the clinic. This is the report that I plan on submitting later this afternoon.’

  Charlie’s heart beat frantically and his hand shook slightly as he picked up the wad of paper.

  ‘It will take some streamlining. Some adjustment in the way you run things. It certainly involves employing a practice manager. But I think, with the help of some hefty private-sector support, it can be done.’

  Carrie paced as she talked in the small space available. She slipped into businesswoman mode, more nervous than she’d ever been at how he would take it.

  Charlie’s heartbeat accelerated as he flicked through the report. It was comprehensive and substantive. She must have been up all night.

  ‘Did you sleep last night?’

  Carrie gave a wry smile. ‘A little.’

  It was marvellous. Charlie knew he held in his hands the ability to keep the centre going. And Carrie had given him the way. ‘It’s amazing! I don’t know what to say…how to thank you.’

  He rounded the desk and before either of them could caution against it swept her into his arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace.

  Carrie hung on, most definitely swept away. This was where she belonged. How unfair was life?

  The door barged open and they sprang apart guiltily. ‘Charles! What is the meaning of this?’ Ignatius Wentworth demanded.

  Carrie froze and looked from father to son. She could see all the veins standing out in Charlie’s father’s neck. But Charlie looked pretty angry also, a nerve twitching at the angle of his jaw. She edged closer to him.

  ‘Exactly what it looks like,’ Charlie said calmly, gathering Carrie to his side and placing an arm around her back, his hand resting on her shoulder.

  Ignatius looked from one to the other. ‘I thought you were just friends. You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Perfectly.’ Charlie smiled down at the woman he loved and stroked the skin at her nape.

  ‘But…Veronica.’

  ‘We’re divorced.’

  ‘You can get her back.’

  Charlie laughed. ‘I don’t want her back. I want Carrie.’

  Carrie’s heart thundered as Charlie’s father gave her a once-over.

  ‘You want to be a father to another man’s child? Preposterous!’

  The slow stroke of Charlie’s thumb on her neck was reassuring and she lifted her chin and looked Ignatius Wentworth straight in the eye.

  ‘I would be Dana’s father with pride.’

  Carrie looked at him, startled. Was he just saying that to annoy his father? He looked dead serious.

  ‘You can do better than this.’

  Charlie felt a flare of anger scorch his cheeks and burn in his stomach. His finger stilled its rhythmic movement. ‘I would be very, very careful what you say, Father.’

  Carrie shivered at the steel she heard in Charlie’s voice. She saw surprise register in the older man’s eyes, replaced with a slightly bewildered look.

  ‘Charles…please. You could be a top-class surgeon. Have a brilliant career. Why are you wasting your life down here with these people? You could have your choice of specialties.’

  Carrie cleared her throat. What was wrong with this oaf? Couldn’t he see that what Charlie did was a specialty?

  ‘With all due respect, Dr Wentworth, community medicine is a specialty and a very worthwhile one, too.’ Carrie’s voice was shaky and Charlie’s father was looking at her like she’d just answered the headmaster back.

  She pushed on anyway. ‘And your son is a brilliant doctor. He may not cut open chests or find cures for cancer, but he’s the life force in this community. He’s the man these people come to if they’re sick, if they’re dying, if they’re beaten, if they’re in trouble, if they’ve got nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat or even if they’ve just lost their way. He’s got grand plans for this place and he’s just the visionary these people need. You want him to forge a brilliant career? Well, he is. It may not be in a glamorous field but you’d better believe he’s the best there is. Any father should be proud to call him his son.’

  Charlie was speechless. So was Ignatius. They both stared at her. There was silence in the room for a few moments. Ignatius recovered first.

  Ignoring Carrie, he said, ‘We will talk about this at dinner on Sunday.’

  ‘No, Father. We won’t.’

  Ignatius glared. ‘You’re refusing to come?’

  ‘No. I’ll be there all right. And so will Carrie and so will Dana. You get one chance, Father. One. If you so much as raise the subject of my career or Veronica, I will never come to dinner again. Ever. My days for tolerating your speeches, of keeping the peace, of taking the easy road are over.’

  For a moment Ignatius turned redder and Carrie thought he was going to explode. But then she saw a light dawning. Ignatius was taking it in—the determination in his son’s eyes, the firm grip Charlie had on her, their apparent solidarity. Her pulse hammered madly in her throat. Was Charlie just using her to get to his old man?

  ‘Very well. Of course we would be delighted to have guests on Sunday.’

  Carrie wasn’t fooled. It was said too stiffly. But she was playing some bizarre part here where she hadn’t been given the lines so she decided gracious acceptance was the way to go.

  ‘Thank you, Dr Wentworth,’ Carrie murmured.

  Ignatius managed a sniff and a quick nod in Carrie’s direction before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

  It took a few seconds but then Carrie sagged against Charlie, the tension seeping out of her shoulders as the door shut. ‘Well, that was—’

  Charlie cut her off with a kiss. His lips
were urgent and hard against her mouth and she opened up to him with greedy fervour. It had only been days but it had felt like a year. His kiss was hot and hungry and she grabbed hold of his shirt as her world shifted on its axis.

  ‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he muttered, pulling away to rain kisses on her face and down her neck.

  ‘Oh, Charlie,’ she whispered against his mouth, before he obliterated all words, all thoughts with another mind-scrambling kiss. She knew she shouldn’t be complicating their separation any further, but it had been too long.

  Charlie wanted to kiss her for ever. Go on for ever, but he knew there had to be words first. Talk first then kiss her. Never stop kissing her.

  He pulled away reluctantly. ‘I reckon, apart from me, you’re the only person I’ve ever seen stand up to my old man like that.’

  Carrie shrugged. ‘He was belittling the man I loved.’

  The words kind of tumbled out unchecked. And she didn’t regret them. She had reacted to Ignatius Wentworth the same way she would have reacted to someone attacking Dana. Like a mother bear protecting her cub. She couldn’t believe that Charlie’s father was so blind.

  ‘Love?’ Charlie’s world stopped. Surely she wouldn’t jest about something this serious?

  They looked at each other for a few moments. Carrie nodded. What the hell. It was out now. And she hadn’t dropped dead or turned into a pillar of salt. If she was truly going to turn her back on this, she had to know how he felt for once and all.

  ‘Thank God!’ He drew her into a fierce hug. ‘I love you, too.’

  She pulled away, hardly able to believe her ears. Hardly daring to believe. She shook her head. After two years Rupert still hadn’t loved her. ‘You…you do? But this is so fast.’

  He chuckled. Her whiskey gaze was muddy. Confused. And then he kissed her mouth and was gratified to feel her instant surrender, her pliant lips beneath his causing heat to pool in his groin.

  ‘I’ve learnt the hard way that life’s short and things can happen that you don’t expect. Thanks to you, I made up my mind recently to start living my life again. And every cell in my body tells me that includes you.’

  ‘What about Veronica?’

  ‘I told you—Veronica is my past. I haven’t loved her for a long time. I certainly never liked her very much. You’re the woman for me. The only woman for me.’

  ‘But your father…’

  ‘My father may be a brilliant thoracic surgeon with an unsurpassed international reputation, but he’s also a bigoted fool. If my father likes her so much, he can marry her. All I want is you. I promise you, Carrie, we’ll never have to see my family, my father again. I’ll never let him hurt you or Dana.’

  And how would that make her feel? How could she ask that of him? To choose between his family and her? How long would their relationship last if she caused a rift between him and his family? Family was sacred—she only had to look around the centre to know that.

  ‘I would never ask you to do that,’ she said vehemently.

  He shrugged, dropping his hands. ‘I wouldn’t worry. It’s a fairly loose association as it is. I haven’t felt like I belonged in my family for a long time. That’s why I enjoyed spending time with you and Dana. You two are what a family should be. I want that for me. For us.’

  Carrie looked up into his eyes, not daring to hope that things could be this perfect. ‘Are you sure, Charlie? I know this has been a big problem for you.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m sure. Am I scared? Yes. Am I worried that I’ll screw up? Yes. But every time I look into Dana’s eyes there’s this trust there. It’s like she knows I can do it. You know? And, frankly, life without you, both of you, scares me more.’

  Her hands crept up to cradle his face. His stubble grazed erotically against her palms. ‘This is important, Charlie. Your father was right—you’ll be taking on another man’s child. Can you handle that?’

  Charlie shook his head. On this he was definite. ‘Dana’s never been another man’s child. She’s been yours. She’s one hundred per cent Douglas. And if you let me and you’re willing to show me how to do it right, I’d like her to be mine also.’

  Carrie nodded, tears blurring her eyes. ‘Anything.’

  Charlie smiled. ‘Everything’s going to be all right now. You, me and Dana. We’re going to be all right now.’

  Carrie swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears. ‘I love you, Charlie. Thank you. For everything.’

  The words were bliss to his ears. Charlie knew that life was going to be perfect. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you did. You gave me back my life. You helped me see the doctor inside that was dying to come out, and you gave Dana the one thing she wants most.’

  He kissed her on the tip of her nose. ‘A life supply of ding rolls?’

  Carrie laughed. ‘A daddy.’

  Charlie kissed her full on the mouth. ‘And you gave me a chance to be a father. A proper father. You gave me Dana. And the centre. That sounds like a fairly good trade to me.’

  Carrie nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘Should we shake on it?’

  ‘I think we can do better than that. I think we should seal it with a kiss.’

  Carrie smiled as his lips descended and hoped all their future agreements were sealed so delightfully.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘COME on, Grandpa Iggy.’ Dana grabbed Ignatius Wentworth’s hand and pulled insistently.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he grouched good-naturedly.

  ‘Up the front,’ Dana said, her voice leaving the eminent surgeon in no doubt who was in charge. ‘Charlie’s giving a speech.’

  ‘Oh, right, then, lead the way.’

  Carrie watched her daughter bring her grandfather closer to the front. She squeezed Charlie’s hand. His entire family was sitting in the front row, looking expectantly at him. Dana had been determinedly bringing Ignatius and the rest of the Wentworths together for the last eighteen months. It had been gratifying, seeing the changes in his family and knowing that she and Dana had been responsible.

  ‘Break a leg,’ she whispered to her husband.

  Charlie looked down into his wife’s sexy gaze as he pulled at the uncomfortable tightness of his tie. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to say that to a doctor.’

  Carrie smiled and straightened the tie for the third time. ‘You’ll be fine. You deserve this moment in the spotlight. This is your dream. Your vision.’

  Charlie looked out over the crowd. It was an eclectic mix. Politicians rubbed shoulders with prostitutes. State government dignitaries sat alongside homeless kids. Police officers mixed with lawyers. Socialites circulated with journalists and missionaries.

  And right in front was his family. Charlie still couldn’t believe that in eighteen months a small child and a determined woman could have orchestrated such change. But they had. Carrie had been dogged, unwavering in her campaign to win his family over. To bring them all together as one.

  Looking at his father now, he couldn’t believe it was the same man he’d known for the last thirty-odd years. He was engrossed in conversation with a beribboned Dana, who was sitting on his lap, looking for all the world like she’d been a Wentworth from her conception. If Charlie hadn’t seen the transformation with his own eyes, he’d have never believed it.

  ‘I couldn’t have done this without your help.’ He glanced at Dana and his father. ‘Any of it.’

  ‘Your father’s big fat cheque helped also.’

  He chuckled. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  She winked. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I plan to hit you for a pay rise when I return to work after my maternity leave.’

  He dropped a brief hard kiss on her lips as the director of the hospital board introduced him. His hand rested at her now non-existent waist and he could feel the swell of her belly where his baby grew larger every day. How could he have ever got this lucky?

  Charlie took the podium to thunderous applause and a blast of w
olf-whistles from the more colourful elements of the crowd.

  ‘It is with great pleasure that I stand before you today at the opening of the new Valley Drop-In Centre. And may I say it’s about time.’

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-1142-5

  FOUND: A FATHER FOR HER CHILD

  First North American Publication 2008

  Copyright © 2007 by Alison Ahearn

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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