Midwives On Call: A Forever Family

‘Bridgette?’ Rita was checking and double-checking everything Bridgette had already done. ‘Have you got the—?’

‘Shut up!’ roared Maria, just as Dominic came into the room.

For once Bridgette was grateful for his silence. He gave Tony a nod as Maria quietly laboured. Dominic took off his jacket and headed to the sink to wash his hands and then tied on a plastic apron.

‘Big breath, Maria,’ Bridgette said gently. ‘Come on, another one…’ The birth was imminent. ‘And then push until Dr Hudson tells you to stop.’ Maria was very good at this. There was grim concentration on her face as she bore down and Bridgette held her leg, relaying Dr Hudson’s gruff instructions but in more encouraging tones. ‘Don’t push now. Just breathe. The head’s out.’

The baby didn’t even require another push. She slithered out into Dr Hudson’s hands, where Rita was waiting to cut the cord and whisk the baby off for examination.

‘Up onto Mum’s stomach,’ Dominic said. ‘Tony can cut the cord.’ Bridgette silently cheered as his calm, authoritative voice slowed the haste.

‘Do you want the baby moved over for examination?’ Rita checked when, again, she didn’t need to. It had been a very beautiful birth, and Bridgette was especially thrilled that Dominic seemed in no rush to whisk the baby off and examine her—instead, he just quietly observed.

The little girl was small and Bridgette placed a towel over her, rubbing her to stimulate her, but she felt very calm with Dominic’s stoic presence so close.

As the baby took her first breaths, Dominic called Tony over and the cord was cut—and Bridgette felt a blink of tears because the birth Maria had wanted so badly for her baby was happening.

‘I can examine her here,’ Dominic said, when Rita checked again if he wanted the baby moved over. And he did. He checked the little baby’s muscle tone and her palate and listened to her heart for a long time. He told Maria he would perform a more comprehensive examination in a little while. ‘But for now I’ll let you enjoy her.’

There really was a lot to enjoy. She peered up at her mum, her almond-shaped eyes huge and gorgeous; she was very alert, and even though she let out a few little cries, she was easily comforted by Maria.

‘Do you want me to let your family know?’ Rita asked, and Bridgette’s jaw tightened. She could understand the conversation that had been held at Jasmine’s leaving do now. Rita really did try and take over.

‘They’ll want to come in,’ Maria said. ‘I just don’t want…’ She held her baby closely. ‘I want it to be a celebration, the same as it was with my others.’

‘It will be,’ Dominic said. ‘They just haven’t met her yet.’

‘She wants to feed,’ Maria said, as her daughter frantically searched for her breast.

‘Let her.’

‘You said they’d scan her first,’ Maria said, because, though detailed prenatal scans had not shown anything, the nature of the syndrome meant the little girl was at risk of a heart defect and would need to be checked by a paediatric cardiologist soon after birth, but Dominic was clearly happy with his findings.

‘She’s looking great,’ he said, quietly observing, and the baby did latch on, but Bridgette helped with the positioning.

It was one of those births that confirmed her vocation—there was no greater gift than watching a new life come into the world, and today’s so-called difficult birth had been made especially wonderful by the calm presence of Dominic. Again he had surprised her. He wasn’t particularly effusive or gushing, he was so much more than that, and he was everything this little family needed today.

Dominic stayed and wrote up his notes while the little girl fed and Bridgette watched for any signs that the baby was having trouble sucking and swallowing but she was doing very well. ‘Dominic said that breast feeding might be more difficult than with the others…’ Maria looked down at her daughter, who was tiring, so Bridgette suggested she take her off now.

‘She’s doing an awful lot right,’ Bridgette said, checking the babe and then filling in her own notes. ‘She’s cried, pooed, wee’d and fed.’

Dominic came over. ‘You remember I said that I’d take her up to NICU for a little while after she was born,’ he said. ‘I want that scan done. Everything looks good,’ he reassured the parents, ‘but I just want her thoroughly checked. Hopefully she’ll be back down with you soon.’

Maria nodded and then took a deep breath. ‘Can you bring in my family first?’ Her eyes went to her husband’s. ‘If they start, I want you to…’

‘We’ll be here,’ Bridgette said. ‘You won’t have to say a thing. I’m very good at bringing up excuses as to why people have to leave. If you start getting upset, or you’ve just had enough, you just have to let me know.’ They worked out a little code, and she gave Tony a smile as he walked out. Dominic, she noted, instead of heading out to the desk, was sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, finishing his notes—a quiet, unobtrusive presence that was welcome.

Maria and Tony set the tone, but Bridgette’s heart did go out to the family. They were trying to be brave, to not be upset, but there was so much tension, so many questions as they all peered at the newest member of the clan. Then Maria’s three-year-old, Roman, climbed up on the bed and gazed at his sister, kissing her on the forehead, and the old abuela laughed.

Dominic came over and checked the baby briefly again, more for the family’s benefit, or rather Maria’s, Bridgette rightly guessed, because the questions they had been asking Maria were aimed at him now.

‘She’s doing very, very well,’ he said, and answered more of their questions and told them that, yes, the prenatal diagnosis was correct. Yes, shortly there would be further testing, but for now she was doing perfectly. And then Bridgette blinked as he chatted with the abuela in what appeared to be fluid Spanish for a moment. ‘Sí, ella es perfecta…’

‘We’re going to move her up now.’ Kelly from NICU had come down just as all the cameras came out.

‘Photo with el medico,’ the abuela said.

‘We really ought to get moving.’ Dominic was reluctant, but then obliged, and it struck Bridgette that though of course he held babies in the course of examining them, he wasn’t the type to steal a cuddle.

He held the new infant and gave a smile for the camera and then he looked down at her.

‘She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ Maria said.

‘Oh, I don’t do the cute-baby thing,’ Dominic answered, ‘but, yes, I think I have to agree in this case. You have a very cute baby. Has she got a name?’

‘Esperanza,’ Maria said.

‘Hope!’ Dominic smiled.

He popped her back in her cot and at the last minute Tony asked if he might be able to stay with the baby during her tests. When Dominic agreed, the family all followed Dominic, Kelly and the porters in a little procession down the hall.

‘He’s lovely, isn’t he?’ Maria said. ‘Dominic, I mean. He sort of tells you like it is.’

‘He’s very good,’ Bridgette said, and gave Maria a wink. ‘Speaks Spanish too.’

‘Abuela was very impressed.’ Maria grinned. ‘Dominic’s mother is Spanish apparently.’ She had to find out about him from a patient! ‘He’s been great. We went to him when we got the amnio back and he told us what to expect. Well, I guess he’d know as his brother has Down’s.’ She must have seen Bridgette’s eyes widen. ‘Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said—it was just that Tony was crying and so was I and it seemed like a disaster when we first found out, but Dominic was terribly patient. He told us what we were feeling was completely normal. We saw him again a couple of weeks ago and we were embarrassed about the scene we’d made, but he said not to give it another thought. It was all very normal, that his mother had been the same.’

They knew nothing about each other, Bridgette realised.

Which had been the point, she remembered.

She really was lousy at one-night stands.

Still, she didn’t have time to dwell on it. L and D was busy and she was soon looking after another birth, a first-time mum called Jessica, who was very nervous, as well as keeping an eye on Maria.

Esperanza was gone for about an hour, and her heart test was clear, which was brilliant news, and by the time she was back, Bridgette had just transferred Maria to the ward. Having checked on her next patient, Bridgette was more than ready for lunch.

‘What’s all this?’ Bridgette tried not to care that Dominic was sitting in the staffroom. After all, if he didn’t care, why should she? Anyway, Rita was there too and there were other distractions this lunchtime. Instead of plain biscuits the table was heaving with fruit platters, small filled rolls and a spread of cheese.

‘Leftovers from the obstetricians’ meeting.’ Rita gave a wry smile. ‘I rescued some for the workers. Enjoy.’

Bridgette selected a roll and a few slivers of fruit. She glanced at the cheese—even though that would usually be her first option, even if it seemed stupid, with Dominic there she chose to give it a miss.

‘How’s Harry?’ Rita asked.

‘Better,’ Bridgette answered. ‘He was just having a bit of a tantrum. He’s not in the best of moods today. I’m sorry I had to dash off.’

As annoying and inflexible as she could be, Rita could, Bridgette conceded, also be very nice. ‘No problem. It’s to be expected in the first weeks at daycare. He’ll soon get used to it. The real question is, how is his aunt doing?’

‘Trying to get used to it too,’ Bridgette admitted. ‘But we’re getting there.’

Unfortunately Rita’s break was soon over and word couldn’t yet have got around about the spread on in the staffroom because only Dominic and Bridgette remained. Well, she wasn’t going to give up a single minute of the precious break by going back early. Her feet were killing her and she was hungry too, and Jessica, her new patient, was progressing steadily. If Dominic wasn’t feeling awkward then why on earth should she be? And if she wanted cheese, why not?

Bridgette stood and refilled her plate with some Cheddar and Brie and a few crackers and went to sit back down, selecting a magazine to read as she did so.

‘I thought you liked blue cheese.’

‘Maybe.’ Bridgette refused to look up, just carried on reading the magazine. She was not going to jump to make conversation just because he suddenly deigned to do so.

‘How’s Maria?’

‘Marvellous.’ She refused to be chatty, just because he suddenly was.

‘The baby I saw you with yesterday…’ Still she did not fill in the spaces. ‘He’s your nephew?’ When still he was met with silence, Dominic pushed a little further. ‘Why didn’t you just say so?’

‘I don’t really see that it’s relevant,’ Bridgette answered, still reading her magazine. ‘Had our one-night stand been two years ago and you’d seen me walking out of daycare carrying a mini-Dominic, then, yes, perhaps I’d have had some explaining to do. But I don’t.’ She smirked with mild pleasure at her choice of words and looked up. She was rather surprised to see that he was smiling—not the Dr Mansfield smile that she had seen occasionally since her return to work but the Dominic smile she had once been privy to.

‘I’m sorry about yesterday. I just jumped to conclusions. I saw you with—’ he paused for a brief second ‘—Harry, and I thought that was the reason…’ He really felt awkward, Bridgette realised. Despite insisting how easy this was, Dominic seemed to be struggling.

‘The reason?’ She frowned, because he’d done this to her too, made her blush as she’d revealed that she thought about that night—but Dominic didn’t blush in the same way Bridgette had.

‘The reason that you went home that morning.’

‘Oh, I needed a reason, did I?’ She went back to her magazine.

What was it with this woman? She had made it very clear that morning that she didn’t want more than their one night. Normally it would have come as a relief to Dominic, an unusual relief because he was not the one working out how to end things.

‘Excuse me.’ Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Bridgette pulled it out, taking a deep breath before answering.

‘Hi, Mum.’

Why did he have to be here when she took this call? Hopefully he’d choose now to leave, but instead he just sat there.

‘I might need a hand a little bit later,’ she said to her mother. She’d left a message for her parents earlier in the day, when she’d realised that Harry might not last out the day in crèche and also she wanted to stay longer for Jessica. ‘There’s a chance that I won’t be able to get away for work on time and it would really help if you could pick up Harry at four for me.’ She closed her eyes as her mother gave the inevitable reply. ‘Yes, I know the crèche doesn’t close till six, but he’s a bit grizzly today and I don’t want to push things—it’s been a long day for him.’

Bridgette looked down and realised she was clicking her pen on and off as her mother reeled out her excuses. She could hear the irritation creeping into her own voice as she responded. ‘I know Dad’s got the dentist but can’t he go on his own?’ She listened to the train of excuses, to how they would love to help, but how nervous Dad got at the dentist, and if he did need anything done when they got there…‘You mean he’s just having a check-up?’ Now Bridgette couldn’t keep the exasperation from her voice. She really wanted to be there for Jessica and didn’t want to be nervously keeping one eye on the clock in case the crèche rang. With a pang that she didn’t want to examine, her heart ached for the long day Harry was having. She wanted some back-up, and despite her parents’ constant reassurances that they would help, she never seemed to ask at the right time.

‘Don’t worry about it’ Bridgette settled for, and managed a goodbye and then clicked off the phone. Then she couldn’t help it—she shot out a little of the frustration that her parents so easily provoked. ‘Why can’t he go to the dentist by himself?’ Bridgette asked as Dominic simply grinned at her exasperation. ‘They go shopping together, they do the housework together…I mean, are they joined at the hip? Honestly, they don’t do anything by themselves.’

‘Breathe.’ Dominic grinned and she did as the doctor recommended, but it didn’t help and she stamped her feet for a moment and let out a brief ‘Aagggh!’

‘Better?’ Dominic asked.

‘A bit.’

Actually, she did feel a bit better. It was nice to have a little moan, to complain, to let some of her exasperation out. Her parents had always been the same—everything revolved around dinner, everything in the house was geared towards six p.m. They were so inflexible, right down to the brand of toothpaste they used, and that was fine, that was how it was, that was how they were, but right now Bridgette needed more hands and their four seemed to make a poor two.

‘Have you got no one else who can help?’ Dominic asked.

‘I miss Jasmine for things like this,’ Bridgette admitted. It was nice that they were finally talking but of course now that they were, Rita buzzed and told her Jessica was in transition and it was time for her to go back.

‘You might be out by four,’ he said, and she shook her head, because Jessica was a first-time mum.

‘I doubt it.’

Dominic’s phone was ringing as she left, and when he saw that it was his father, he chose not to answer it. Stupid, really, because his father would just ring again in an hour, Dominic thought, and every hour after that, till he could tick it off his to-do list.

He finally took the call at three.

‘Hi.’

Dominic rolled his eyes as his father wished him a happy birthday. ‘Thanks.’ Dominic was being honest when he said that he couldn’t talk for long, because he was summoned urgently and headed down to Theatre when paged for a child who was having an allergic reaction in Recovery. There was that theatre nurse, her blue eyes waiting, when he and the anaesthetist had finished discussing the child’s care.

‘Long shift?’ Dominic asked when she yawned, because on certain occasions he did make conversation.

And today was a certain occasion.

It was, after all, his birthday.

‘It’s been busy.’ She nodded.

‘Back again in the morning?’

‘Yes…though I shouldn’t moan. My husband’s away so I can just go home and sleep.’

He was always away, Dominic thought.

‘What does he do?’ He broke one of their rules and he watched her cheeks go pink. There were colleagues around, and they were seemingly just chatting, so of course she had to answer.

‘He drives a coach,’ Blue Eyes said. ‘Overnight, Melbourne to Sydney.’

He gave a nod and walked off, felt a bit sick in the guts really, which wasn’t like him, but he thought of the poor bloke driving up and down the freeway as Dominic bonked his wife. No questions asked, no real conversation.

Maybe he was growing up, Dominic thought. He hadn’t been with anyone in weeks, not since Bridgette, in fact, though he rapidly shoved that thought out of his mind.

Well, why wouldn’t he be growing up? It was his birthday, after all.

And birthdays were supposed to be enjoyed.

Never doubt the power of a woman in labour—Bridgette should really have known better. Jessica was amazing, focused and gritty, and the birth was wonderful, so wonderful that she was still high on adrenaline as she sped down the corridor to daycare.

‘Bridgette.’ He was walking towards her and this time he nodded and said her name—progress indeed!

‘Dominic.’ She grinned and nodded back at him, ready to keep walking, except he stopped in front of her.

‘I was wondering,’ Dominic said. ‘Would you like to come out tonight? You’re right, this is awkward, and I’d really like to clear the air.’

This she hadn’t been expecting. ‘The air is already clear, Dominic.’ Except it wasn’t, so Bridgette was a little more honest. ‘You were right. Harry is the reason that I didn’t want you to come in that first night. My computer didn’t have a virus.’ She gave a guilty grin. ‘Well, it wasn’t Harry exactly, more the cot and the stroller and the rather blatant clues that were littered around my flat at the time.’ And with Bridgette, he did ask questions, and got some answers. ‘I look after my nephew a lot. My sister’s really young.’ He didn’t look away, his eyes never left her face, and she rather wished that they would. ‘So!’ She gave him a smile as his pager went off and Dominic glanced down at it and then switched it off. ‘That’s a little bit what my life is like when Harry’s with my sister—I’m permanently on call.’ Yes, the air had been cleared, and now they could both move on; she truly wasn’t expecting what came next.

‘Bridgette, would you like to come out tonight?’

She turned around slowly and he looked the same as he had before—completely unreadable. She didn’t want a charity dinner, didn’t want him taking her out because he’d already asked her. To make things easier for them both she gave him a small smile, shook her head and politely declined. ‘That’s really nice of you, thanks, but I have to say no—it’s hard to get a babysitter.’ There, she’d given him the out. It was over and done with, and she awaited his polite smile back—it didn’t come. Instead he looked at his watch.

‘How long does a dental check-up take?’ He even smiled. ‘Can you try?’ He pulled out a card and wrote his mobile-phone number on it and handed it to her. Maybe he read her too well because instead of saying that he would wait to hear if she could make arrangements, he lobbed the ball firmly back into her court. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven, unless I hear otherwise. Ring me if you can’t get a babysitter.’

It was utterly and completely unexpected. She had thought he would run a mile—she’d given him an out, after all.

She wanted him to take it.

Bridgette really did. She just wasn’t ready to get back out there and certainly not with Dominic. Still, maybe tonight he would just tell her how impossible it all was; maybe she would receive a long lecture on how they found each other attractive and all that, but how unsuitable they were—yet, remembering just how good they had been, it was very hard to say no.

‘Hi, Mum.’ It was the second time that day she’d asked her mum for help. ‘Is there any chance you and Dad could babysit tonight?’

‘You mean have our grandson over?’ Betty laughed. ‘We’d love to.’ As Bridgette blinked in surprise, as she paused just a fraction, her mother filled the gap. ‘Though we do have a couple of friends coming over tonight. Old friends of your dad’s—remember Eric and Lorna?’ Bridgette felt her jaw tense. Her parents insisted they were accommodating, but it was always on their terms—when it suited them. ‘Could we maybe do it tomorrow?’

‘I’ve got an invitation to go out tonight, Mum. I’d really like to go.’

‘But we’ve got people over tonight. Tomorrow we can come over to you and stay. It might be easier on Harry.’ Yes, it might be easier on Harry, but it certainly wouldn’t be easier on her—or Dominic. He was already taking a leap of faith in asking her out. Though he wasn’t asking her out, she reminded herself—he simply wanted to clear the air. Still, no doubt he was used to having the door opened by a groomed, glossy beauty who invited him in for a drink as she applied a final layer of lip gloss—somehow she couldn’t imagine inflicting her mother and father and Harry on the guy.

‘Mum, I haven’t had a night out in weeks.’ She hadn’t, not since that night with Dominic. ‘I’m sorry for the short notice. If you can have Harry, that would be great. If not…’ If not, then it simply wasn’t meant to be, Bridgette decided. If she couldn’t get away for one single night without planning it days in advance, she might just as well text Dominic now with the whole truth.

It would be quite a relief to, actually, but after a moment’s silence came her mother’s rather martyred response. ‘Well, make sure you bring a decent change of clothes for him. I want Harry looking smart. I’ve got Eric and Lorna coming over,’ she repeated. ‘Have you had his hair cut yet?’ Bridgette looked at the mop of blond curls that danced in the afternoon sun as Harry built his bricks and wondered why her mother assumed that Harry’s hair was Bridgette’s responsibility. His mop of unruly hair was a slight bone of contention between them—Courtney would never think to get a haircut for her son and though at first it had irritated Bridgette, more and more his wild curls suited him. Bridgette was now reluctant to get them cut—she certainly wasn’t going to rush out and get a haircut just to appease her parents’ guests and, anyway, there wasn’t time. ‘No, Courtney hasn’t had his hair cut, but he’s looking beautiful and I’ve got a gorgeous outfit for him.’

And with Harry dropped off and the quickest bath in history taken, the flat had to be hastily tidied, not that she had any intention of Dominic coming in. She’d be ready and dressed at the door, Bridgette decided, so she had about sixteen minutes to work out a not-so-gorgeous outfit for herself.

There was a grey shift dress at the back of her wardrobe and she had to find her ballet pumps but first she had a quick whiz with hair tongs and her magical blusher.

‘Please be late,’ she begged as she remembered her screensaver was of them. Her computer was in the spare bedroom, but in case of earthquake and it was the room they ended up in, she had to change it.

‘Please be late,’ she said again as she stashed dishes in the cupboard beneath the sink and shovelled piles of building bricks into the corner.

‘Please be late,’ she said as she opened her bedroom door to get her pumps and was distracted by the shelves she’d been meaning to build and the million-thread-count sheets she’d bought in a sale and had been saving for when the room was painted.

But the bedroom was too untidy to even contemplate bringing him in and, no, her prayers weren’t answered.

Bang on seven, she heard the doorbell.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘READY!’ Bridgette beamed as she opened the front door and stepped out, because there was no way he was coming in.