Needed: Full-Time Father (Medical Romance) (9 page)

‘To pretend it didn’t happen?’ His voice was incredulous, scarcely able to comprehend the change that had taken place, that the warm, loving, sensual woman he had held only moments before could just get up and walk off, but Madison wasn’t going to give in.

‘We slept together, Guy. We’re two consenting adults who slept together. It’s no big deal.’

‘You’re a useless liar, Madison. That wasn’t just sex for the sake of it, and you know it as well as I do! Where
are you going?’ he asked, following her out to the kitchen as she marched out and pulled on her shoes, headed to the hall mirror and dragged a comb through her dishevelled hair.

‘I’m going to pick up my daughter, Guy.’

‘Surely you’ve got five minutes?’

Madison glanced at her watch, appalled to see that she was already five minutes late—confirmation if ever she’d needed it that what she had contemplated for that brief moment was impossible. Emily deserved better. ‘Actually, I don’t.’ Frantically she rubbed in foundation and tried to calm her flushed cheeks.

‘Tomorrow, then?’ Guy asked. ‘When it’s your lunch-break, we’ll meet and talk.’

‘I’ve got an appointment with my life coach tomorrow lunchtime.’

‘Life coach?’

‘Yes.’ His bemusement irritated her. ‘My life coach,’ she repeated, as if it was self-explanatory.

‘What is that? Come on, Madison, I’ve spent the last few years wandering the globe—what the hell’s a life coach?’

‘Someone who helps you to outline and achieve your goals.’ He was standing behind her, frowning at her in the mirror, and Madison sucked in her breath, dragging out the words as if she were reading them from the glossy brochure that had dropped on her mat more than a year ago. ‘Most people don’t achieve their full potential, most people wander through life with no plan. Kerry and I meet monthly and we work out my priorities,
set goals, formulate a plan so that I can optimise my emotional and physical wellbeing.’

‘You pay someone to work out your dreams?’

‘No, Guy, I pay someone to help me achieve my goals.’

‘Which are?’

‘It’s in the singular, Guy. I only have one goal and that’s stability.’ Madison stared back at him. ‘Stability for my daughter.’

‘And where do you come into this?’ His lips were almost a sneer. ‘When your life coach is busy working out your financial, physical and emotional wellbeing, where does Madison Walsh come into the picture? Where does the woman I held back there come into it?’

He had a point, but Madison had an answer.

‘That comes under emotional wellbeing and, yes, we’ve addressed it, but I decided to put that on hold until I’d sorted out more pressing matters.’

A mirthless smile ghosted his lips. ‘So a quick one will have to suffice for now?’ His crudeness had Madison biting on her lip but she refused to let him see how much his words hurt. Instead she turned around and finally managed to face him.

‘I guess it will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to collect my daughter.’

‘Of course. I’ll be out of here in a moment.’ As she wrenched open the front door to flee down the drive, Guy caught her shoulder. ‘Just think about us tonight.’

‘Us?’ She almost choked the word out—couldn’t even turn around to look at him, every muscle rigid with tension.

‘Us,’ Guy repeated, as if ‘us’ already existed. ‘Just think about what you’re walking away from.’

Dashing over to Helen’s, her trembling hand knocked on her friend’s front door. Racked with guilt, she waited for the accusing stares, the suspicious looks, as if everyone must somehow know what had just taken place. But it was Madison’s eyes that widened as Helen flung open the front door, wearing a dressing-gown that had seen better days and a vivid green face pack.

‘It’s supposed to shrink my pores,’ Helen offered by way of explanation, padding down the hallway. ‘The kids are just finishing up their homework so let’s grab a quick cuppa while we’ve got time.’

‘I’m sorry I’m late…’ Madison said, blinking at the normality of it all, hearing the kids chatting in the lounge room, the evening news droning on, everything as it should be.

‘Are you?’ Helen gave a vague shrug. ‘Don’t give it a thought. How was it?’ When Madison didn’t answer, Helen pulled out some mugs and switched on the kettle, her face pack cracking as she gave Madison a sympathetic smile. ‘It must have been hard—saying goodbye to someone you care about.’

‘It was,’ Madison said quietly, immersed in double meanings, her mind spinning from the emotionally draining day. ‘It really was.’

‘Y
OU’VE
had an exceedingly challenging week.’ Kerry, Madison’s life coach, leant back in her very nice navy leather chair and crossed her very neat legs. ‘But you’ve coped admirably.’ Shuffling through Madison’s papers, she ticked off some boxes. ‘Madison, you’ve done amazingly well. Your salary has increased enough to send your daughter to your chosen school, you’ve your own parking space, and you’re even managing to go to the hospital gym for a workout twice a week, as well as walking with Emily some evenings. You’ve attained everything you set out to.’

‘I guess.’ Madison stared out of the massive window into the busy street below, watching an ambulance weaving through the early afternoon traffic, the thick, double-glazed window muting the wail of the siren. But Emily could see the flashing lights, the urgency of the vehicle as it picked its way around the slowing cars, and Madison wondered what was coming into the department, wanted to be down there, finding out. Instead, she darted her eyes away and looked over at
Kerry. ‘The thing is—I don’t actually need a parking space,’ Madison gulped, watching as Kerry gave her a slightly perplexed look. ‘I mean, it’s nice and everything but, given the fact I’m not arriving with all the other early staff, I could quite easily find a spot to park. I don’t really need my own parking space.’

‘But it shows how well you’re doing,’ Kelly pointed out. ‘The same way you can now comfortably afford to move Emily to the school you’ve chosen for her.’

‘Even though Emily’s happy at the school she’s at?’ Madison was as confused as Kerry. ‘Maybe taking her out isn’t such a good idea after all. I don’t know why it seemed so important.’

‘It was one of your goals,’ Kerry pointed out, tapping the paperwork in front of her then handing it over to Madison.

Madison stared at her own handwriting, which said exactly the same thing, trying to remember a time when two yellow lines to park her car between had seemed so important, when a posh school with a boater for Emily to attend had seemed so vital, scarcely able to believe that the date above was only a month ago. ‘And you’ve attained them. You should be feeling pretty pleased with yourself.’

‘And I am.’ Madison nodded, more to convince Kerry than herself, watching as she shuffled the paperwork in front of her and silently dreading what she knew was about to come.

‘Now, we’ve addressed the financial and physical side of your life. You’re in great shape in both areas, but
it’s time we looked at the emotional side of things. What are your goals there, Madison? Where do you see yourself in twelve months’ time?’

‘Coming off my shift to a graffitied car in my personal parking space and signing cheques to a school I can’t actually afford, which my daughter doesn’t want to go to…’ As Kerry crossed and re-crossed her legs, stumbled for an answer to her client’s inappropriate response, Madison gave a rather helpless laugh.

‘I think the goalposts just moved.’

‘That’s why we meet regularly,’ Kerry responded quickly. ‘Life is an evolving process. Now that your financial and health needs are being met, now that there’s order in your life, we can deal with the emotional aspects, find out what it is that Madison Walsh wants.’

‘You mean, write out another list.’ Madison frowned. ‘List my ideal partner?’

‘Not necessarily,’ Kerry said. ‘I’m not for a moment suggesting you can only be emotionally complete with a partner by your side. But your emotional needs do need to be addressed. Yes, you’re a mother, yes, you have a demanding career, but you still need to nurture yourself. We can start off slowly, perhaps just meeting friends for coffee at the shopping centre, inviting some people over for a dinner party…’

But Madison wasn’t even listening any more. As much of a help as Kerry had been, as much as she herself had needed the support to get her life in order, setting goals with her friends just sounded too clinical for words. Relegating her emotional wellbeing to a neat list
of objectives took all the fun out of it somehow. She picked up her bag and stood up.

‘Kerry, you’ve been great. My life was an absolute mess when I first came here, and you’ve helped me a lot. I’ve lost weight, toned up, I’m drinking soy milk and I’m finally in the black, but as for the emotional side…’ Madison picked up the clipboard and stared at the unfilled boxes, the goals she should set out to attain, the ticks that would somehow decipher the perfect man in a perfect world, and knew that nothing she wrote there could even begin to explain her needs. ‘I guess I’m going to have to leave that to a greater power…’

‘One that doesn’t charge eighty dollars an hour.’ Kerry gave a thin smile, but it reached her eyes and for the first time in all the while she’d been there, Madison actually warmed to the other woman.

‘I’ve met someone,’ Madison admitted. ‘Every pore in me is screaming that he’s a wanderer, that say the C word and he’ll walk. He’s certainly not what I’ve got planned for Emily and I, and yet…’ Her voice faltered for a moment but then she found it again. ‘Yesterday I thought it was impossible, I told him it wasn’t going to happen.’

‘So what’s changed?’

‘He asked me to think about it,’ Madison answered. ‘Which I have been, but I’m still none the wiser.’ Madison gave a tired laugh. ‘To save myself from possible pain in the future, I’m inflicting a massive dose now.’

‘So the treatment’s worse than the cure?’ Kerry smiled and Madison stared back, her mouth opening
slightly to argue but realizing that she didn’t have an answer!

‘You know what? I dumped my fiancé this weekend.’ Suddenly Kerry didn’t look so much the confident professional she portrayed so well. In fact, on closer inspection her well-made-up eyes revealed puffiness, and despite the porcelain powdered complexion her nose was just a touch red. Madison stood dangling her bag in her hand as Kerry went on. ‘On paper he was perfect. He had every attribute I could list in a man, there was nothing about him I could really object to—he was supportive, funny, good-looking and educated…’

‘But?’ Madison gave a sympathetic smile as she rummaged in her bag for her cheque book.

‘That’s what I’m trying to work out,’ Kerry admitted, waving her hand as Madison started to write out a cheque. ‘Why, when it looked so perfect on paper, didn’t it feel quite so good in real life?’

‘Here.’ Tearing out the cheque, Madison went to hand it over, but Kerry waved it away.

‘This one’s on me.’

‘You’re sure?’ Madison checked. ‘I’m more than happy to pay.’

‘I know you are but, yes, I’m sure.’ Kerry nodded. ‘I assume you don’t want to make another appointment on your way out?’

‘No.’ Madison shook her head. ‘But thank you, Kerry, thank you for all your help.’

‘Good luck,’ Kerry called as Madison stepped out of the office, and out into the early afternoon sun, blinking
at a world that seemed brighter all of a sudden. Madison finally admitted why—Guy. Though initially she had been appalled, their love-making had been an utter revelation, a complete awakening, the side of her she’d suppressed for so very long, the impulsive, fun-loving Madison that had been buried with her husband. Walking the short distance back to the hospital, for the first time in years she wasn’t rushing, merely walking; for the first time in a long time she literally stopped to smell the roses, to take stock of all she had and all she’d achieved…

To bravely face the future.

‘We’ve got a problem!’ Annie, the permanently frazzled ward clerk, jumped up from her desk as Madison slipped off her jacket. ‘Beth’s son, Jackson, is being brought in by ambulance. Apparently he’s had a severe asthma attack at school. It sounds pretty bad.’

‘Poor Beth.’ Madison grimaced. ‘OK, Beth knows, I assume?’

‘Guy’s talking to her now, getting Jackson’s history and everything.’

‘Good,’ Madison said crisply. ‘OK, who’s the nurse in Resus…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised the predicament. Beth Anderson was the most senior staff member on duty that afternoon and she was in charge of Resus. Annie nodded as the problem dawned.

‘I’ll go into Resus.’

‘But you’ve got a full diary,’ Annie pointed out. An
occupational health and safety lecture in fifteen minutes and then there’s a management meeting to attend at two. Alanna’s already said that she can take over Resus, so long as we can get an agency nurse to fill the gap. I just need you to sign off on it.’

‘I’ll go into Resus,’ Madison said again, more firmly this time. ‘Beth deserves the most senior staff available to look after her son.’

‘Only you’re not available,’ Annie pointed out, running to keep up with Madison who was marching through the department. ‘What do I tell everyone?’

‘Tell them that something more important came up,’ Madison responded. ‘Tell them that I’m needed down here in the real world.’

‘Right.’ Madison nodded to Alanna. ‘Have you alerted the paediatricians and anaesthetist?’

‘I’ve just put out a page.’ Alanna nodded.

‘Well done. OK, Alanna, I’m going to take over in here, you carry on with the cubicles.’

‘I am capable of running Resus,’ Alanna said, a distinctly brittle edge to her voice, which, despite the critical time factor, Madison chose not to ignore, pulling out the red crash cart and pulling up drugs as she spoke.

‘I don’t doubt that for a moment but the fact is, Beth is the nurse down for Resus this afternoon, and clearly she can’t be expected to run her own son’s resuscitation. Now, given that you’re up to date on what’s happening out there, it makes far more sense for you to carry on and I’ll pick up in here, rather than spending what little time we have before Jackson arrives trying to bring
me up to speed. Annie’s clearing my diary for the afternoon, but if I need a hand, I’ll call.’

Only slightly mollified, Alanna gave a reluctant nod and walked out. Madison didn’t dwell on it, her only thought right now for the seven-year-old boy coming in. She saw the flash of blue lights and heard the skid of brakes and a final wail of a siren that heralded the arrival of Jackson. Madison knew it was indeed serious. Blue lights and sirens on the streets were to alert traffic to move out of the way, but when they were used in the hospital driveway it was for the opposite reason, to alert people that help was needed, to move in close and try to save a life.

‘Jackson Anderson,’ a paramedic gasped as they skidded to a halt with the stretcher. Guy raced in alongside them, with a distraught Beth trying to hold herself back but desperate to get near. ‘Seven-year-old, chronic asthmatic. Became breathless in the classroom and deteriorated quickly, semi-conscious on our arrival, tachypnoeic, using accessory muscles, with tracheal tug. His oxygen saturations were eighty-two per cent on our arrival and have come up to ninety per cent on oxygen and continued Ventolin nebuliser. He’s been cannulated…’

All this was said as the little boy was swiftly moved over, his dark eyes rolling as Madison leant him forward, resting his frame on a large pad—upright being the best position, the most comfortable during an asthmatic episode to allow for greater lung expansion. But Jackson was too weak to support himself and Madison
supported him with pillows as another nurse attached him to the monitors and connected the oxygen tube to the hospital supply, sharing a brief anxious look with the paramedics.

‘Thanks, Ben,’ Madison said. ‘Good job.’

‘We’ll grab a cuppa,’ Ben said, which might have sounded a strange thing to say, but everyone present knew it had nothing to do with a brew and everything to do with hanging around to find out what was going to happen to the little boy, who was working so hard simply to breathe.

‘This is more like a massive anaphylactic reaction,’ Guy said, listening to Jackson’s chest, then probing his neck with his fingers. ‘Beth said he had a nut allergy…’

‘He wouldn’t eat nuts,’ Beth shouted. ‘He doesn’t eat anything that I don’t give him.’

‘Let’s lay him flat and get some adrenaline into him,’ Guy said, ignoring Beth for now, his only focus on the patient, a steady hand taking the drugs Madison handed to him. She could only marvel at his cool. A child as sick as this meant a tense resuscitation room, especially given the fact it was a staff member’s child and that she was present.

‘Do you want Beth to leave?’ Madison asked, turning her eyes to the saturation monitor. The percentages were dropping ominously as Jackson’s heart rate accelerated, his tiny heart working overtime to drag vital oxygen in and failing, his lungs too rigid to allow for any air expansion.

‘Let her stay for now,’ Guy replied. ‘Where are the paediatricians?’

‘On their way,’ Jane answered. ‘I’ve just put out an urgent call for the anaesthetist.’

‘Beth.’ Guy looked up briefly. ‘I’m going to intubate Jackson. His saturations are dropping, we need to do this. Do you want to stay or go?’

Beth opened her mouth to argue, no doubt to insist that this couldn’t be happening, that her child didn’t need such drastic measures, that her baby wasn’t at death’s door, but somehow she held back and summoned the strength to resist holding her child, in her eyes a desperate plea for help as she nodded her consent to Guy and handed her trust over to him.

‘Stay, I want to stay…’

‘Hold his hand,’ Guy responded, nodding to the staff to make room for her. ‘Talk to him, Beth, tell him he’s going to be OK.’

But was he?

Jackson’s blood pressure was dangerously low, his oxygen saturations rapidly diminishing, his body collapsing. His respiration rate, which had been so high in an exhausting attempt to get vital oxygen, was now starting to decrease. Even his heart rate was slowing, and Madison knew that Guy couldn’t wait for an anaesthetist. If they didn’t intubate Jackson now, they would lose him.

Guy’s hand was amazingly steady, just one impatient curse as he attempted to put the tube into the boy’s spasmed throat, and failed. Madison found she was holding her own breath as Guy steadied himself, forced himself to focus, to ignore the machines bleeping behind
him, to drown out Beth’s frantic loving words to her son and concentrate on the vital task in hand.

‘I’m in.’ He held the tube very still as Madison secured it carefully, making sure they didn’t move the vital connection, then Madison took over, bagging the little boy as Guy listened to his chest, making sure the airway was indeed in the right place, giving a relieved nod when he heard the breath sounds.