White Christmas for the Single Mom
Autorzy
Susanne Hampton
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18,6K
RozdziaĆy
14
Temptation under the mistletoe Specialist Juliet Turner flies halfway across the world to England with her young daughter, Bea, to perform lifesaving in utero surgery. But her first white Christmas is complicated by the feelings awakened by ob-gyn Dr. Charlie Warren! Juliet has protected her heart for years, but she soon finds there's so much more to this closed-off widower than meets the eye. Perhaps it's time for them both to let go of the past, surrender to their burning chemistry and make this a Christmas to remember!
Chapter One
IT WAS FOUR in the morning and snow was gently falling in the darkness like tiny stars floating to the ground when Charlie Warren awoke from a nightmare that was all too familiar. Beads of perspiration trailed over his half-naked body. The nights it happened were less in number than the year before but they still came with a regularity he found strangely comforting. Feeling the pain was better than feeling nothing. Or facing the fear of letting go completely. That was something he could still not bring himself to contemplate.
For the few hours that sleep claimed him during those nights, Charlie would relive the moments of impact. Sounds echoed in his mind, each as haunting as the one before. The buckling metal and splintering glass as his car skidded out of his control and slammed into the old oak tree. It was the crash that had claimed his wife and had come close to claiming Charlieâs sanity. He would wake and in the deafening silence lie motionless in his bed thinking over and over about the conversation they should have shared that fateful night. The one when he told his wife it was too dangerous to venture out. The one when he firmly and resolutely refused to take the risk on the treacherous road. The conversation he would regret for the rest of his life that theyâd never had.
Some nights were worse than others and on the very worst the nightmares began the moment his head hit the pillow and ended as he sat bolt upright woken by either the ringing of the telephone or his alarm clock. Both signalling he should head in to the hospital, the only place that gave him purpose.
But this night heâd been woken from his tortured sleep by the sound of a falling branch outside his window. The weight of the snowfall had been too much for the narrow branch and it had snapped, crushing against the leadlight window. It had not broken the glass, merely scratched down the panes as it fell, making a noise not unlike a dying animalâs scream.
Still damp with sweat, Charlie rushed to the window believing an injured deer might have roamed into his property, but he quickly saw the silhouette of the damaged tree lit by the moon. There were no streetlights as Charlieâs home was on a large estate. The seven-bedroom, seventeenth-century, run-down and previously unloved manor home was undergoing much-needed renovations so he was sleeping downstairs on the leather chesterfield in the sitting room while work was being completed on the upstairs part of the house.
The stone slate roof had been in a state of disrepair for too long and the ceilings had been damaged in most of the upstairs rooms. The master bedroom was due to be finished within a few days. The rooms were all empty and waiting to be filled with new furniture although Charlie had no burning desire to see any of it, let alone choose it, so he had left those decisions up to the decorator. He wasnât rushing to move back into the master bedroom. He had not shared it with anyone for two years and he had no plans of sharing it again. His wife, Alice, had begun the renovations and he was seeing them through to completion in her honour. After that he did not know what he would do with the home.
Or himself, for that matter. Other than work, he had no plans for the future.
As always, once Charlie had been woken he found it hard to fall back into a sound sleep again. He read for a while and then tried once again to sleep. But slumber evaded him so he slipped on his heavy winter dressing gown, tied it loosely around his hips, headed into his kitchen and made himself a coffee. While memories of the accident monopolised his dreams, it was the impending arrival of the Australian in-utero surgeon that dominated his waking thoughts, leaving him both anxious and irritated about her potential interference.
The hospitalâs decision, or more precisely Assistant Head of Obstetrics, Oliver Darringtonâs decision, to fly the specialist over to consult infuriated him. In Charlieâs opinion there was nothing to be gained and everything to lose. The quadruplets were only weeks away from being big enough to deliver and, as the attending OBGYN, Charlie thought any deviation from the treatment plan should be his decision. In-utero surgery carried risks that he did not consider warranted. And he wouldnât readily agree with the procedure without proof it was the best way forward.
As he looked out over what many would call a joy of the Cotswolds at Christmas, the majestic sight of dawn breaking over the snow-capped hillside, Charlie barely noticed any of the landscape. With his blood pressure beginning to rise, he sat down at the large oak kitchen table, sipping the coffee that was warming his fingers.
Dr Charlie Warren was unable to appreciate anything because he was preparing himself for a professional battle.
This time his words of caution would be heard. And heard loudly.
* * *
âWhat on earth do you mean, thereâs no need for me to scrub in?â
Juliet Turner spun around with confusion dressing her brow and a surgical gown covering her petite frame. âMy patientâs on the operating table, prepped for an open foetal repair of a neural tube defect. I have to scrub in. This canât be postponed.â
âIt hasnât been postponed, Dr Turner,â the theatre nurse told her. âThe surgeryâs going ahead today. Itâs just that youâre not the surgeon operating.â
Julietâs nostrils flared behind the operating mask. âThatâs even more ridiculous. There has to be a mistake.â
âNo mistake, Dr Turner. Another in-utero specialist has been brought in to take over,â the nurse replied firmly. âHeâs already arrived, and in gowning now. Orders came from further up the food chain than me, so donât go shooting the messenger.â
âHeâs in gowning! Iâm sorry, Angie, but this is absolute nonsense,â Juliet said as she returned her focus to lathering her hands and forearms as a visible protest. She wasnât backing down and had no intention of relinquishing her role. Kelly Lester would have her surgery and her baby would have the best chance of a normal life. And she was operating as scheduled.
Being a female in a male-dominated profession had taught her to stand up for herself very early on. She had known entering the profession that women were at least twice as likely to drop out of surgical training programmes as men, making her well aware that it would not be an easy path and a shrinking violet would not succeed. During her studies her father, also a surgeon in the same field, often told her that, while half of the medical students in Australia and New Zealand were female, women made up less than ten per cent of fully qualified surgeons. It was a harsh reminder that she would have to be strong, focused and have a voice to survive. And she was going to use her voice whenever needed. Loud and clear.
It appeared that day was going to be one of those occasions.
âI will not allow another surgeon to just step in now without a damned good reason. I know this is not at the patientâs request. I spoke to her only an hour ago.â
âNo, it wasnât the patient who has requested the change, Dr Turner, and I understand youâre taken aback but Iâm just passing on the message, not making the decision. However, Iâm telling you the decisionâs final. You really do need to stop scrubbing. Having sterile hands wonât change the outcome.â
Not hiding her irritation, Juliet turned off the flow of water with the foot control. âWell, weâll just see about that.â
âOn the bright side, your replacement will no doubt meet with your approval. Youâve worked together more than a few times.â
Juliet was doubly confused with the smirk on Angieâs face. None of it made any sense but if she was to believe the nurse, and she had no reason to doubt her, she was being replaced without notice or reason. âI donât care whoâs been brought in to take over, itâs still madness,â Juliet replied as she pulled her surgical cap free and the mass of brown curls dropped around her face. At that moment, the replacement doctor entered the scrub room.
âReally,â she announced, shaking her head in disbelief. âThis is becoming more and more ludicrous by the minute. They call you back here two days after you retire. What is this craziness? Iâve a patient about to be anaesthetised and Iâm told Iâm not operating. Will someone please explain the absurd rationale behind all of this? And who made the call to replace me as Kellyâs surgeon?â
âThe hospital director...but with good reason,â he replied.
âI canât think of one.â
âYou have to prepare for your trip.â
Juliet paused for a moment with a perplexed stare. âFor goodnessâ sake has everyone gone completely mad? My tripâs not until the middle of next week. Iâve got five days to prepare for the lectures and board the plane, but Kellyâs baby needs this operation now if heâs to ever walk.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong...not about Kelly and her babyâyouâre right on that one, I just finished reading the notes and the surgeryâs urgentâbut your tripâs not next week. Itâs tomorrow. Youâre leaving on an eight oâclock flight in the morning.â
âTomorrow? But why?â Juliet dropped her head into her hands still damp from the antibacterial wash. âThe lecture is not until next Thursday.â
âYouâre not delivering the lecture in Auckland...youâre off to the UKââ
âThe lectureâs been cancelled?â she cut in.
âNo, the lecture is going ahead...â
âBut without me?â she asked as she pulled free her surgical gown and dropped it unceremoniously in the bin alongside her discarded cap.
âYes.â
âAnd the surgeryâs proceeding too, just without me?â They were framed as questions but Julietâs tone made it obvious they were statements that she was none too happy about.
âThatâs right.â
âAnd Iâm off to the UK?â she continued with the volume of her voice escalating and increasing in speed with each word. âBefore I go completely loopy, just tell me why my schedule is changing before my eyes without my approval?â
âThe call came through from Cheltenham just now.â
âCheltenham? As in the Cotswolds?â
âOne and the same.â
âAnd who over thereâs making decisions without consulting with me?â
âThe decision was made by four babies.â
Juliet blinked and shook her head. âFour? Youâre speaking in riddles and you know that frustrates me.â
âApparently the Assistant Head of Obstetrics at Teddyâs, which is the maternity wing of the Royal Cheltenham hospital, spoke with our Head of Obstetrics about the quads. Almost twenty-nine weeksâ gestation, suffering twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. Two sets of monozygotic twins. While the girls are fine at this stage, the boys have developed the TTTS. Oliver Darrington believes youâre the best chance that the quads have of all surviving should the parents agree to the in-utero laser surgery. And Professor Le Messurier just approved your secondment.â
âThatâs all very flattering but why am I being called in at the eleventh hour? If there was a risk, I shouldâve been consulted upon the initial diagnosis. Surely being quads they would have been having weekly scans and intense monitoring and theyâd know at Teddyâs that the earlier the intervention, the better the outcome.â
âApparently the quads were being closely monitored throughout the pregnancy, but the TTTS diagnosis has only just been made,â her replacement continued as he began scrubbing in, and over the sound of the running water he continued his explanation. âThe girls have separate placentas while the boys have one shared placenta so they were being scrutinised for any signs of transfusion. Up until now there was no indication of anything being amiss. It was picked up when the patient presented in what she thought was premature labour.â
âCaused by the amniotic fluid imbalance affecting the recipient twin.â
âAgain, apparently but youâll know more details when you get there.â
âBut the lecture in Auckland?â
âHandled. Iâm not sure whoâs your proxy but your focus needs to be on the quadruplets. Darringtonâs worried it could deteriorate quickly and thereâs an increased risk they could lose at least one of them if you donât get over to Teddyâs immediately, and of course we know the risks if one dies to the remaining foetuses. The parents have been briefed and want to be fully informed so they can consider all options, in particular the in-utero surgery.â
âAnything else I need to know?â
âJust one thing...the attending OBGYN, Dr Charlie Warren, is averse to fetoscopic laser surgery. Believes the risks are too great so no doubt heâll be challenging you.â
Juliet took a deep breath. âLooks like Iâll be catching a plane tomorrow morning to meet Dr Warrenâs challenge and convince him otherwise.â
âI hope he knows what heâs up against.â
âHe soon will.â With her head tilted just slightly, and the remnants of bewilderment still lingering, she looked at her replacement. âOkay, Dad, looks like Kelly and her baby are in your hands now.â
âDonât worry, honey. Iâll do you proud.â
