Caroline Anderson - A Single Dad To Heal Her Heart

She chuckled softly. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation, Dad, you don’t look it, either, so I’d enjoy your party and go with the flow. So what have you guys been up to over the weekend?’

* * *

He let himself in quietly, and found his mother dozing in the family room. He closed the door softly, and she stirred.

‘Hi, Mum. I’m home.’

Her eyes blinked open and she smiled. ‘Oh, hello, darling. I must have dozed off. Did you have a lovely time?’

He stooped and kissed her cheek and dropped onto the sofa beside her. ‘Great, thanks to you. How’ve they been?’

‘Fine, if a little wearing. Have you been worrying?’

He laughed softly. ‘Not really—not about them, more about being so far away. All the what-ifs. You know...’

‘Yes, of course I know. I knew you would be, but we’ve all been fine. They’ve been as good as gold all weekend. I’ve only just put them to bed but I’m sure they won’t mind if you wake them. I would have kept them up for you but they were shattered. They’ve been really busy. Amber’s drawn you hundreds of pictures, and Charlie’s helped me in the garden, and we’ve been to the beach and made sandcastles with the Shackleton tribe, and we went there on a play date this morning as well, which was nice. They’re lovely people.’

‘They are. And it was a godsend that Annie let Ed take their eight-seater car. Getting around up there wouldn’t have been nearly so easy without it, but poetic justice, he and his teammate won the challenge, which was good.’

‘Not your team?’

He smiled wryly. ‘No. My teammate hurt her ankle, but to be honest just being so far away from the kids was enough of a challenge. It was beautiful there, though, and I’m really glad I went. Anyway, I don’t want to hold you up, I expect you want to get home, don’t you?’

‘Don’t you want me to stay tonight? If I know you, you’ll want to be in early tomorrow.’

He shook his head, nothing further from his mind. ‘No. Tomorrow I want to get the kids up and spend at least a little time with them before I drop them at nursery, so feel free to go, Mum. You must be exhausted. I know I am.’

She smiled gratefully. ‘Oh, well, in that case...’

She kissed him goodnight and left, and he carried his luggage up, peeped round the corner at Charlie lying sprawled flat on his back across his bed, and went into Amber’s room. She was snuggled on her side, but the moment he went in her eyes popped open and she scrambled up, throwing herself into his arms as he sat on the bed.

‘Daddy!’

‘Hello, my precious girl,’ he murmured as she snuggled into him. He buried his face in her tangled hair and inhaled the smell of beach and sunshine and pasta sauce, and smiled.

It was so good to be home...

* * *

Her ankle felt better the next day.

Still sore, and she was definitely hobbling, but whatever that crunch had been it was better rather than worse. She went to work in her trainers because they were the only shoes that fitted comfortably, and the second Sam caught sight of her she was whisked into X-Ray to get it and her ribs checked out.

‘All clear,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘Right, you can go home now.’

‘No, I can’t. I’m here to work.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. I’m fine.’

Sam sighed, shrugged and gave in. ‘OK, but sit when you can, take breaks and put it up whenever possible. You need a bit more support on it, I think. Is that strapping adequate?’

‘It’s fine. It’s really good. Matt knows his stuff. It feels OK.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘If you say so. I’m not convinced I believe you, but we’re short-staffed as usual so I’m not going to argue, but you’re in Minors—and the moment it hurts—’

‘Sam, I’ll be fine,’ she assured him, and he shrugged again and left her to it, so she went and picked up the first set of notes and found her patient, all the time wondering if Matt would be called down to the ED and if so, if he’d speak to her.

He wasn’t needed, but he appeared anyway just after one, to her relief, because after the initial rush in Minors it had all settled down to a steady tick-over and she had far too much time to think about him and what her father had told her.

She was standing at the central work station filling in notes when she felt him come up behind her. How did she know it was him? No idea, but she did, and she turned and met his concerned eyes.

‘Hi. I didn’t expect you to be here,’ he murmured. ‘How’s the ankle?’

‘Better, thanks. Your strapping seems to be working. It’s my mind I’ve got problems with. Sam’s put me in Minors,’ she told him, and she could hear the disgust in her voice.

So could he, evidently, because he chuckled softly.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I rang him and asked how you were, and he told me you were cross you were out of Resus.’

She laughed at that, because it was sort of true. ‘I’m not really cross, and I know someone has to do Minors, but it’s gone really quiet and now I’m just bored.’

‘Shh, don’t say that, you never say that,’ he said, his eyes twinkling, and he glanced at his phone. ‘Have you had lunch?’

‘No. My fridge was pretty empty, and I don’t fancy chocolate or crisps out of the vending machine.’

‘Well, now might be a good time to make a break for it.’

‘Except I can’t get to the café easily. Walking from the car park was bad enough.’

‘Soon fix that,’ he said, and, glancing over his shoulder, he made a satisfied noise and retrieved an abandoned wheelchair.

She stared at it in horror. ‘You have to be joking.’

‘Not in the slightest. Sit down or I’ll put you in it.’

He would. She knew that perfectly well after yesterday, so with a sigh of resignation she sat in the wheelchair and Jenny, one of the senior nurses, nodded and grinned.

‘Well done, Matt.’

‘Don’t encourage him—and call me if you need me, Jenny. I won’t be long. And I can push myself,’ she said, reaching for the wheels.

‘No, you can’t, it’s not that sort of chair,’ he pointed out, and whisked her down the corridor, out of the side entrance and into the park.

Five minutes later they were sitting on a bench under a tree, armed with cold drinks and sandwiches. He patted his lap. ‘Put your leg up. I want to have a look at your ankle,’ he said, and she sighed.

‘If you insist,’ she said, but the moment her ankle settled over that disturbingly strong thigh she could have kicked herself. She should have put it on the wheelchair, because his hands were on it and it was distracting her, and she didn’t want to be distracted. She wanted to talk to him about what her father had said.

But he was probing it now, gently—or sort of gently, and she was distracted in a different way.

‘Ouch!’

‘Sorry. It feels swollen still. Are you sure you should be working?’

She rolled her eyes and ripped open her sandwich. ‘You’re as bad as Sam. You just want to fuss and cluck over me like a pair of mother hens.’

‘That’s why we’re doctors—an exaggerated sense of responsibility for the health of the nation. It’s nothing personal.’

Tell it to the fairies. His hand was resting on her leg now, his thumb idly stroking over her shin, and she wasn’t even sure he was aware of doing it. She solved the problem by removing her foot from his lap and propping it on the wheelchair like she should have done in the first place, and took a deep breath.

‘I spoke to my father last night and passed on your message,’ she told him tentatively, ‘and he asked me to send you their best wishes and said they think about you often. He spoke very fondly of you.’