A Life Worth Living
Amanda Canham
A Life Worth Living
Amanda Canham
For lovers of Marion Lennox and Fiona Lowe comes a sweet, touching novel about secret desires and second chances, set in the intriguing world of sleep medicine.
Dr Cameron Lewis has been running from his past for a long time, so when a career opportunity opens up in his hometown of Brisbane, he takes it as a sign to move home and pick up the pieces of his life. But his vow to never have a child remains steadfast — it’s the one thing he can’t compromise on.
Nurse Stacey Carter has always craved a family of her own, and, following a bitter divorce and the death of her mother, she finally decides to make her dreams come true. She doesn’t need a man to help, but she can’t help thinking that the new doctor in the Sleep Medicine ward might be the ideal alternative. . .
Content
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About the Author
Surrounded by creative types (author mother, artist mother-in-law, designer sister – the list goes on!) Amanda never imagined she had a creative bone in her body. Not until she put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) whilst pregnant with her second child. But after that fateful day, when she caught the writing bug, she’s never looked back. Balancing work as a sleep scientist, raising two small children and writing whenever she gets the chance, life is certainly full, but has never been more fun.
Acknowledgements
This book would not have been possible without the help of three very special people: my husband, Christopher Canham, my mother, Marianne Curley, and my sister Danielle Curley. They are my beta-readers, my baby-sitters, my motivators and my first line of support.
I have been lucky enough to be blessed with a cheer squad of my very own. Thank you to all my friends and family who have supported me as I chased my dream – in particular, thank you Dad, Chris, Vanessa and Brenda.
To the wonderful team at Escape, in particular Kate Cuthbert and Kirsten Delaney – thank you for all your hard work in making this book the best it could possibly be.
And finally, I would like to thank my beloved children – Zachary and Josephine. You two bring boundless love and joy to my life, and if it wasn’t for you, I never would have started on this incredible journey in the first place.
To Mum, forever my inspiration and motivation
Chapter 1
it’s just an ordinary day, Cameron Lewis assured himself as he stood outside the entrance to St Mary’s Children’s Hospital, trying to work up the courage to step inside.
But he didn’t believe it for a second.
Because, if he was honest, he had to admit this really was no ordinary day. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Today was the first day of his new job. He’d been appointed Senior Paediatric Respiratory and Sleep Physician, a promotion he’d been working hard for.
That is, he would have the position if he actually walked into the hospital.
People rushed by him on the footpath; cars zoomed by on the busy South Brisbane street at his back, but he didn’t notice. He was focused solely on taking that final step into the hospital. He knew once he was in there he’d be fine. Well, he assumed he would be. It was the final decision to accept the position that was plaguing him.
When his old mentor had approached him with the idea, Cameron had been flattered. He hadn’t expected to achieve a senior position for at least a few more years. And safely ensconced at the conference centre in Florida, he hadn’t given it a second thought. Buoyed by the confidence of presenting at the conference, Cameron had accepted the position. He’d thought he was ready.
After all, it had been six years. Six years of running, of hiding. Six years since he’d returned home. It was time.
But now he was here, he wasn’t sure six years was long enough.
No, he knew six years wasn’t long enough.
It’s a fresh start, he told himself.
But that wasn’t entirely true, either. He’d completed his training in Respiratory and Sleep Medicine here. This place had made him a doctor.
But the building, the hospital, held more memories than just those of his training years. And it was those memories that were stopping him from taking that final step. Those same memories were why he’d quit working here six years ago, why he’d left Brisbane, his home town, to work in the States all this time.
He’d buried the memories, had tried not to think about what happened. It was the only way to survive.
Yet here he was, about to open the lid on them.
Maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe, if he concentrated hard enough, he could keep the lid closed. He knew now he wasn’t ready to open it. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready.
He had to keep moving forward with his life, though. And this promotion was everything he’d been working towards.
He could do it.
He just needed to breathe.
And maybe close his eyes as he stepped over the threshold. Cameron closed his eyes and took the final step through the doors. Immediately, the hot sticky heat of the Brisbane summer was replaced by cool, crisp air conditioning; the noise of the street replaced by a quiet hum.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar, faintly sterile smell, common to all hospitals.
It was done.
Bracing himself, Cameron opened his eyes and looked around. This wasn’t what he remembered. The ageing linoleum, cracked paint and hideous fluorescent lighting of the old hospital were gone.
The hospital had received a facelift while he was away, he realised, a smile spreading across his tense face. The walls almost glowed with the slightest hint of pink; dark, plush carpet had replaced the linoleum. The entire floor plan had been redesigned. With a new sweeping staircase, conveniently placed sofas and a hidden bank of elevators, the place was almost unrecognisable.
He could definitely handle this. Cameron moved towards the elevators with a sense of purpose.
This was the right step to take.
He scoured the hospital map to identify where he needed to go. He was meeting with the hospital administrator and human resources to fill in the necessary paperwork before he commenced practicing. He pressed the call button and the doors to the waiting elevator slid open.
Cameron stepped inside and felt a calm come over him as the doors began to slide shut.
This was going to work.
He could feel it in his bones.
‘Stop! Hold the doors!’
The panicked, high pitched screech ripped him from his moment of calm. His arm automatically reached out, pressing against the closing doors to keep them open.
‘Thanks,’ said a muffled, soft, clearly female voice from somewhere behind a pile of boxes as she rushed into the lift.
‘Here, let me give you a hand with that,’ Cam offered when the boxes began to shift precariously.
‘No, I’ll be fine,’ came the strained reply from somewhere behind the moving boxes. The woman made several fruitless attempts to reach the call button before giving up.
‘On second thoughts, would you mind hitting the button for level three for me? I don’t think I can reach it,’ she explained.
‘Of course,’ Cam replied, as the woman shuffled backwards. He stretched past her, his shoulder accidentally bumping against the boxes in the process.
‘I’m sorry,’ Cam said as he depressed the button.
‘It’s okay
, it’s okay. I’ve got. . .No!’
Cam automatically turned around, launching himself at the boxes as they finally slid out of the woman’s control. He caught them just before they hit the ground.
‘Oh my gosh, thank you so much,’ the woman gushed breathlessly, hopping up and down next to him.
That’s al—’
‘Here, let me take them,’ she said, cutting him off and sliding her arms around the boxes before he had a proper chance to respond. ‘It would have been such a disaster if I’d dropped all these cakes on the floor. The mess would have been horrendous and the boss would have sent me out to buy them again.’
‘Well, I’m glad I could help,’ Cam said, smiling down at the woman. She had small, pixie-like features, smooth, creamy skin and dark, chocolate eyes. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with strands of it spiked up around her head, as though they were electrified. The woman was pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way, though there was nothing all that extraordinary about her looks. Still, there was something about her. . .her. . .but Cameron found himself suddenly distracted by the brush of her fingertips just below his belt buckle.
‘I’ve almost got them,’ she said, moving her hand further along the bottom of the box—and his pants— as she tried to get a firmer grasp. Cam knew the exact moment she realised what she was rubbing against, because her peaches and cream complexion turned a bright, tomato red.
‘Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I-’ she burbled out, horrified, ripping the boxes from his hands and backing into the furthest corner of the lift. ‘I wasn’t trying to feel you up or anything. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not like that, I’m-’
‘It’s alright,’ Cam assured her.
‘I can’t believe I just did that,’ she said, almost whispering the words to herself, her chocolate eyes wide.
‘So, that’s a lot of cakes,’ Cam changed the subject abruptly, trying to distract her.
‘What? The cakes? That’s right, the cakes,’ she repeated, diving on the topic like a lifeline. ‘There not all for me. Gosh no, I’m just delivering them. Not that I’m normally the delivery person. I’m a nurse but I was starting late this morning, so I was roped into picking up morning tea. Not that the boss normally shouts us morning tea. It’s more for a function. Well a welcome party, actually. There’s a new doctor starting in our department today. The party is a waste of time, I think, but nobody asked me. They just sent me to buy the food.’
Just shut up! Stacey Carter ordered herself, but she couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut. She just kept on opening it and words kept flying out. First, she almost spilled half a bakery on the poor guy, then she practically groped him and now this! At least he’d seemed amused initially, but now he was looking at her with something akin to horror. Yet, still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
‘He’s some over-rated hotshot from America. This big sleep guru or something. Big fuss over nothing, really.’ An errant lock of hair fell in front of her eyes and she quickly blew it up, out of the way.
‘At least I got to pick the cakes. They even had my favourite – passion fruit slice -at the bakery today, so that’s one positive, I guess.’ Stacey continued on with her monologue, unable to stop until finally the elevator dinged.
‘Oh, good, this is me. Well, um, have a nice day,’ Stacey said as she bolted out the doors as fast as she could without unseating her precarious burden again.
What just happened? Stacey asked herself as she made her way along the corridor towards the Respiratory and Sleep Unit. Yes, she was chatty by nature, but she’d never suffered uncontrollable motor-mouth syndrome before.
It had been something to do with that guy. He’d been H-O-T. He had a tall, lean build; dark, almost-black hair; high cheekbones and to-die-for lips. But it had been his sharp, electric blue eyes that had done it to her. When he’d stared into her eyes over the boxes her brain had turned to complete mush, and she’d been so distracted she accidentally groped him!
Out of the lift and away from those penetrating blue eyes she felt almost normal again, she realised with relief. Once she reached the entrance to the Unit she turned her back and pushed open the door.
‘Morning, Shirley. Where should I put these?’ Stacey asked the receptionist.
‘I think they’re having the morning tea in the lab,’ Shirley said, referring to the room where the scientists analysed the polysomnographic studies. At night, the room was used by the nurses as they monitored the sleep study patients. ‘Just set them down in there and Teegan or Matt can do the rest.’
‘Thanks,’ Stacey said as she moved behind the reception desk, down the hall past the consulting rooms, before turning right into the lab.
‘Here’s the party supplies,’ Stacey called out by way of greeting to the two scientists sitting at computers, busy analysing their studies.
‘Excellent. What did you get?’ Teegan asked, glancing up from her screen. ‘Whoa! What happened to you?’ she blurted out before Stacey had a chance to answer her first question.
‘What do you mean?’ Stacey asked, relieved to finally plop the boxes of pastries down on the bench. The lock of hair that had been coming loose all morning fell in front of her eyes again. She blew at it, but this time it was determined to stay in place.
‘I think you’d better just go check yourself out, Stace.’
A growing sense of dismay overtook Stacey. She raced down the corridor to the staff bathroom and inspected herself in the mirror. The dismay became fully fledged as she looked back at her reflection.
No wonder that guy in the lift had been horrified.
Teegan was right. She looked a mess!
What had been a neat ponytail this morning had somehow drooped and all sorts of strands of hair had somehow gained a static charge, sticking out in all directions. That would explain why she’d had hair falling in her eyes all morning. On top of that all her makeup seemed to have sweated away. Her cheeks were bright pink and there were faint circles under her eyes where her mascara had run.
Thankful she hadn’t put her bag in her locker yet, Stacey pulled out her hairbrush and emergency makeup, doing a quick repair job. Once finished she looked back in the mirror, pleased with the effort. She’d never make a glamour model, but at least now she looked normal—efficient and professional.
Stacey packed her supplies back in her bag and left the bathroom. She felt a twinge of regret deep inside that she’d looked such a state when she’d met him this morning.
Geez, one cute guy and all her plans went out the window.
Well, okay, so that was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a long time, a very long time since she’d felt a spark of attraction that strong. In the four years since her marriage broke down, she’d given up hope of ever finding a man she had that much spark with again. So it was understandable that it had thrown her a bit. It wasn’t like she was ever going to do anything about it, though. She doubted she would ever see him again. And if she did, well, it wouldn’t matter because all her plans were set now.
A small thrill ran through Stacey at the thought. She’d seen the specialist this morning. It was why she’d organised to start late. The news had been very promising. She had no health problems, nothing to stop the plans she’d set in motion six months ago from coming to fruition. All that was left was to wait another six months and then her long-held dream would become a reality.
‘What’s wrong, Claire?’ Stacey asked her patient an hour later, as she entered the hospital room. She moved behind the bed automatically, and switched the nurse call button off.
‘I’m having. . .a little. . .trouble. . .breath. . .ing,’ the girl wheezed the words out.
‘It certainly sounds like it,’ Stacey said, keeping her voice even to mask her concern. The last thing Claire needed to do right now was start panicking. Stacey flicked the oximeter on and slipped the oxygen probe onto Claire’s index finger.
‘How long have you been feeling like this?’ she asked as she waited for the
machine to calculate the oxygen content in Claire’s blood.
‘Um. . .it was tight. . .for a while. . .but only just. . .started. . .five minutes. . .maybe. . .not. . .sure. . .’
The machine beeped and Stacey glanced over. Eighty-six percent. Way too low. She needed help.
She picked up the phone on the wall and buzzed the nurse’s station.
‘I need a doc, now,’ Stacey informed the nurse who answered. ‘Who’s on-call this morning?’
‘It’s the new guy, but I haven’t seen him yet.’
‘Can you page him, then? I need him in room four.’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Thanks, Tara.’
Stacey raced down the hallway and grabbed the spirometer. She measured the girl’s peak flow, documenting the results on the chart. With a thirty per cent drop in peak flow, it was clear the girl was in the early stages of an asthma attack, which could increase in severity at any moment. Not wasting any time, Stacey pulled the nebuliser from the cupboard and began setting it up beside the bed.
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, Stacey urged the doctor in her mind.
‘Hi, what have we got here?’
Stacey jumped, the sound taking her by surprise. She whipped her head around and her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the man in the doorway as the same hottie from the elevator this morning. He looked even better now, though, if that were possible.
Yet what he was doing walking into this particular hospital room she wasn’t sure. She was certain she’d met all of Claire’s relatives, and he wasn’t one of them. But the only other person she was expecting was. . .
Oh! Gosh! No!
Please don’t let him be the new doctor.
He approached the bed confidently, picked up the chart and flicked through the pages.
There was no other explanation. He had to be the new doctor. The one she’d been whining about in the elevator. What had she said? Stacey couldn’t bear to think about it.
‘Ah,’ Stacey floundered for a second, mortified, but she recovered quickly, pushing her feelings aside to look after the patient. She pulled back from the girl and moved towards the end of the bed so she could update the doctor.
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