Dr. Right for the Single Mom, page 5
It was quiet around the main entrance. A security guard stood just outside the semicircle of glass doors. He clearly recognised Tom but seemed to be undecided about whether to say anything.
‘How’s it going?’ Tom asked.
‘Fine,’ the guard responded. ‘For me, anyhow. I’m starting to wonder about her, though. She’s been there for a long time. D’ya reckon I should find someone to go and talk to her?’
Tom turned to look in the direction the guard’s head tilt indicated. He’d walked right past that figure sitting at the far side of the wide bottom step. Someone who was hunched over, with their head in their hands, looking utterly miserable. Someone with hair that had a reddish gleam to it under the artificial lights.
Oh... God...
It was Laura. And it looked as if she was crying. As if she’d been crying for a very long time.
‘I’ve got this,’ he told the guard.
He hoped he did, anyway. Despite his head issuing a warning about getting too involved, his heart was overriding the message. He could feel a misery that was close to despair hovering over Laura and it was touching him too close to his own heart. Tom had no idea how he could possibly help if Laura had had more bad news about Harry or something, he just knew that he had to try.
‘Hey...’ He sat down on the step next to Laura. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
She raised a tear-streaked face, the expression in her eyes making Tom feel as if a giant hand had just taken hold of his heart and squeezed it hard. Then she groaned and scrubbed at her cheeks with her hands.
‘Oh, no... I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.’
‘What’s happened? Has something happened with Harry?’
‘No...well...kind of...’ But Laura couldn’t say anything more. She just shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in an obvious attempt to stifle any further tears.
Tom tried to think of something that might help. Anything. ‘Can I take you home? You must be exhausted.’
‘I can’t go home.’ She was still making a visible effort to control her distress, gulping in some air. ‘I have to go back to Harry but...but I can’t let him see me like this, either.’
‘Is he awake?’
‘No...but...’
‘You need a break. Coffee, maybe.’
‘I can’t go into the cafeteria. Not like this...’
‘No.’ Tom was aware that the security guard was still watching them. Other people arriving had turned to stare, as well. Whatever was happening for Laura right now, it was a private thing. She needed protection. That meant that taking her into his office where people from the emergency department could see her was also not an option.
‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘I know where we can get a coffee. Not far from here, so you can be back in no time.’ He held out his hand and tried to sound as encouraging as possible. ‘Come on...’
She took his hand. He had only wanted to encourage her to get to her feet but as he led her away, Tom found she was still clinging to his hand. A bit like the way Maureen had clung to it when she’d been so lost and distressed. He could pull his hand free, Tom decided. It was quite possible Laura wasn’t even thinking about any implications of the handholding, she was just needing that human contact. But he didn’t pull it away. It was only a few minutes’ walk to his apartment block, after all.
Besides, he’d forgotten how good it felt to have that comforting sense of connection to another person. He didn’t really want to let go just yet.
* * *
It had been a lifetime since anybody had held Laura’s hand.
Brent’s grip had always been a little too tight. Controlling, even. But Tom’s hand just felt...solid and warm. Protective. The way her own hand felt to Harry, perhaps, when she took hold of it to cross the road.
Whatever. The sensation of being led and not having to think about where she was going was a welcome relief in the middle of a meltdown that had happened because there were just too many things to think about and they were all just too big. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and the warmth of that hand holding hers was allowing her to step away from the overwhelming spin of her thoughts and it felt like that flood of tears was finally drying up.
Until she found herself going through an iron gate towards a small apartment block that clearly didn’t contain anything like a café that would be providing coffee at this time of night. Confused, Laura’s steps slowed and she pulled her hand away from Tom’s.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Home,’ he answered. He offered a half-smile. ‘That’s not a problem, is it? I thought you might appreciate a more private space. And... I can make good coffee.’
Silently, Laura followed him up some steps, through a front door and then into the door on the right. It was an old building and the apartment was spacious, with high ceilings and polished wooden floors scattered with rugs. Shelves overflowing with books and even a guitar propped up in a corner. It looked like a home, she thought as she heard Tom closing the door behind her. A place where a family could spend time together and relax. And, suddenly, that spin of scary thoughts sucked her in like a whirlpool and she burst into tears all over again. Silent, painful tears this time. She had to wrap her arms around herself to try and control the shuddering of her body.
She had her eyes tightly shut but she could feel how close Tom was. She would never have expected him to take her into his arms like that—not in a million years—but in the depths of the despair she was feeling right now, it didn’t matter. It was just...so kind. Offering a whole-body version of that protective handholding. She wasn’t going to fall into the abyss while she had someone hanging onto her like this. Letting her rest her head against his chest. Rocking her a little, even. Murmuring something soothing, although she couldn’t hear the words, she could just feel the rumble of his voice beneath her ear.
She didn’t wrap her arms around him—that would definitely have been a step too far but this seemed to be okay, even when she could feel Tom’s hand moving in small circles on her back. It was simply one human being offering comfort to another.
The fact that she was beginning to wonder about how appropriate this was meant that Laura was finally escaping the whirlpool in her head. She could actually feel control returning, as if she was mentally pushing things into place and slamming doors. She moved physically, as well, and Tom released his hold on her body the instant he felt her muscles tense.
‘Can I call someone for you?’ he asked. ‘Someone you could talk to, like Maggie or Fizz?’
Laura shook her head. ‘I’m not going to disturb them at this time of night. If they’re not asleep by now, they’re probably wishing they were.’ She tried to find a smile but she could feel embarrassment creeping in rapidly as she remembered where she’d been only moments before. Wrapped in Tom Chapman’s arms? She’d never even seen him hug anyone. ‘And... I’m sorry about that.’ She looked away so that she couldn’t catch his gaze. ‘I guess it was just a case of the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m okay now.’ This time she could find something closer to a real smile. ‘Or I will be, after a coffee.’
‘Onto it.’ Tom’s tone was brisk—as if he was relieved at the opportunity to change the subject completely. He walked towards the kitchen that opened off the living area. ‘Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.’
But Laura found herself following Tom into the kitchen. Because it felt like something was pulling her to stay close to him. A remnant of the comfort he had provided by holding her when she was crying perhaps. There was a table in the kitchen and a couple of chairs so she sat down and watched as Tom switched on a flash-looking coffee machine and then busied himself with coffee beans and a grinder. In a very short space of time, Laura found a very professional-looking cup of coffee being placed in front of her.
Tom sat down on the other side of the table and, for a minute, there was a slightly awkward silence between them.
‘I have to apologise again,’ Laura said, finally. ‘I can’t believe I cried all over you like that.’
‘It’s okay.’ Tom was smiling. ‘My shirt’s almost dry already, see?’ He patted his chest but his smile was fading. ‘I’m just sorry to see you so upset. I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘You’ve done heaps. I might have sat on those steps for a lot longer if it wasn’t for you, and you were right.’
‘What about?’
‘Needing a break. I haven’t been outside the hospital buildings or grounds for days now.’
Another silence fell, less awkward than the first one. It was Tom who broke it.
‘You’ve got a lot to deal with at the moment and it’s hard to stay strong all the time by yourself. You’ve got some very good friends, Laura. Don’t feel guilty about leaning on them.’
‘Mmm...’ Laura scooped a bit of froth from her coffee cup with the teaspoon. ‘I can cope, you know. It’s just been a lot of things in a very short space of time.’
‘Joe mentioned something to me today. About you maybe needing to find somewhere new to live?’
Laura nodded. ‘I’ll get onto that. It’s not a disaster—just bad timing. If I can find something I can afford, it would be so much better to move before Harry’s due for surgery. That’s if...’ Oh, no... Laura could feel tears threatening again.
She picked up the teaspoon again and blinked hard as she focused on the froth still clinging to the edges of her coffee cup but she could feel Tom’s gaze on her, like a physical touch. Questioning. Sympathetic. After his kindness, he deserved to know what had caused her meltdown, didn’t he?
‘I...um...had a meeting with the whole team this afternoon,’ she said quietly. ‘Our paediatrician, the paediatric oncologist, a radiologist and a nurse—even a social worker. I had a lot of questions, like what would happen if the chemo didn’t shrink the tumour enough. If...you know...it didn’t look like a complete resection was going to be possible.’
‘Oh, Laura...’ The tone of Tom’s voice brought a huge lump into Laura’s throat.
‘They said I’m getting ahead of myself and that we can do several cycles of chemo, if necessary, before having to think about something like a transplant, but... I’ve been doing some research and if Harry needed a transplant I would want to donate part of my liver.’ Her breath came out in a huff that was dangerously close to a sob. ‘I’d give him the whole thing if that was going to save his life.’
‘Of course you would.’
‘But I can’t even give him a piece of it and...and I think that’s what the final straw was today. With my blood group, I’m not compatible.’ She wasn’t crying again. She wasn’t. There were just leftover tears that were somehow sneaking down her cheeks. ‘I’m A. I could only donate to types A or AB. And...and Harry’s O. He can only receive a donation from type O.’
Tom sounded a little hesitant but calm. ‘I know you said his father wasn’t in the picture but...’
Laura shook her head. ‘He’s dead.’
‘And his family?’
‘They never knew about Harry. And I don’t want them to.’
Tom still sounded calm. Reassuring. He wanted to help fix her problems. ‘It might never come to that, Laura, but if it does, there’ll be a donor available. I promise.’
Laura stared at him. A bubble of something like anger was forming in her chest. How could he make a promise like that? How could she keep trusting him as much as she did, if he was going to say whatever it took to reassure her when it might have absolutely no basis in reality?
‘How can you say that? You have no idea whether that’s true.’
‘I can be fairly sure.’ Tom held her gaze. ‘I know there are other tests that need to be done but the first box has been ticked.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘My blood group is O,’ Tom said quietly. ‘I’m a universal donor.’
Laura just kept staring at him. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What’s that got to do with Harry?’
‘I’m saying that, if a transplant is needed at some point in the future, I could do that. I could donate part of my liver to Harry.’
‘Why?’ The word came out as a whisper. ‘Why would you do that for someone you barely know? It’s not like donating blood, you know. It’s risky. The kind of risk you’d take for your own child, but for someone else’s?’
She knew she was searching Tom’s face, looking for an answer. Or checking to see whether this incredible offer was genuine? Who was this quiet, clever man she’d been working with for so long? Laura felt like she didn’t know him at all in this moment.
‘Maybe that’s why,’ Tom said softly. ‘I can’t do it for my own child because I lost Sam a long time ago—in the same car accident that killed my wife.’
‘Oh, my God, Tom... I’m so sorry... How could I have not known that?’
‘It’s not something I talk about. I find life’s easier that way.’
The ground had just shifted beneath Laura’s feet. He really did understand what she was facing. He’d been in an even worse space himself. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch him and her hand actually moved on the table but something stopped her. Perhaps it was because his words were personal enough and already breaking an unspoken barrier between them that made this space feel fragile. It felt like touching Tom when he was stepping into the new space for the first time might be enough to push him back into hiding.
‘That’s...unimaginable,’ she said slowly. ‘How old was he?’
She could see the muscles move in Tom’s neck, which made it look as if it was painful to swallow. ‘He was two. And it was about four years ago so that would make him about the same age as Harry if he was still alive.’
Laura closed her eyes. She was thinking back to that conversation she’d had with Tom in his office that day. When she’d had the impression that he really understood what she was going through as she’d grappled with Harry’s diagnosis and upcoming treatment. How personal it had felt.
Of course it had. He must have been struggling with his own memories of losing a child.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said softly. ‘Except that I’m so sorry that it happened.’
‘Yeah...me, too.’ Tom said. ‘I’m used to life on my own now, but I still miss them every day. Jenny. And my Sam.’
It didn’t seem to matter that Laura hadn’t reached out to touch Tom in any way. The eye contact they were sharing was having the same effect.
Connecting them.
As parents. Acknowledging the depth of love you had for your child. As medical professionals, as well, knowing the lengths that you would go to in order to save a child’s life. And perhaps there was something else connecting them now that had never been there before.
Something that had been born in that bubble of time when Tom had been holding her in his arms and letting her cry. Laura wasn’t at all sure what it was but she could feel its presence. Something fundamental had changed between them. The barriers that kept personal things safely enclosed were shifting. Getting blurred. It almost felt as if she and Tom were becoming real friends rather than simply colleagues but, on top of everything else she was grappling with emotionally, it was too much to think about at the moment.
‘I’d better get back to the hospital,’ she said. ‘I don’t want Harry waking up to find I’m not there.’
‘I’ll walk back with you.’
Laura opened her mouth to protest. To tell him that she was perfectly capable of walking by herself and to pull her cloak of independence more tightly into place, but the words failed to emerge. Because the cells in her skin were reminding her of what it had felt like when Tom had taken her hand as he’d led her away from the Royal’s front steps. Of how protected she had felt when she’d been in his arms. Not that she was going to hold his hand on the way back, mind you, but if he wanted to offer his protection—how could she refuse?
It was heartbreaking that he didn’t have the people he really wanted to protect in his life any more.
‘That would be great,’ was what Laura said instead as she got to her feet. ‘Thanks, Tom.’
CHAPTER FOUR
NOTHING WAS QUITE the same.
On the one hand, it felt wonderful to be back in the emergency department of the Royal for the first shift that Laura had managed to roster since Harry had become sick. It was a slice of “normal” in a life that had been turned upside down and was still being shaken at regular intervals. More importantly, it was a slice of normal for Harry. He’d been itching to get back to school and see his friends and he seemed to be tolerating this first cycle of chemotherapy so well it had been decided he could try a return to school and he was loving it.
The staff of both the school and its aftercare facility were being incredibly supportive and, as she’d donned her scrubs and walked through into the working space she loved so much, Laura realised just how valuable this was going to be to her own mental health as a distraction from everything else going on in her life at the moment. She just had to try and put this new tension to one side so that it didn’t interfere with her focus on patients—the tension that was caused by her half expecting a call at any moment to say that she needed to be with Harry because he had suddenly become very unwell again.
At least she could put it to one side here and she hadn’t been able to do that at home in the few days since Harry had been building up the time he spent at school. He might have been out of sight for an increasing number of hours but he’d never been out of her mind. Not even for a minute.
