The Patterson Girls (29 page)

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Authors: Rachael Johns

BOOK: The Patterson Girls
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Mitch waited until she was safely inside before driving off and Charlie stood in the doorway, watching until his lights faded to nothing.

Chapter Twenty-three

‘It's a girl, a beautiful baby girl!' Madeleine held up the tiny, perfect, albeit slightly red and wrinkly newborn to the first-time parents and then handed the bundle to Mike, the paediatrician on duty. He took the kid across the other side of the room to be assessed. While Mike and the midwives fussed round the baby and new parents, Madeleine tended to the task of stitching up her latest caesarean section. She prided herself on immaculate stitching and got a thrill out of seeing a good scar when her patients returned for their six-week check-up. By the time she'd finished, Mike had proclaimed the baby a healthy little cherub and placed it into its mother's arms for the first time.

She couldn't help gazing down at the new family.

Although she wasn't an emotional person, this was the one time when tears sometimes caught in the back of her throat. In those first few moments after birth when two people in love are meeting a brand new person that they created between them, everything seems like a miracle. Usually she managed to control her emotions by turning away and going to clean up, but today her eyes were glued on the sight as she fantasised that one day in the not too distant future she might have one of those moments of her own. It didn't matter that she'd be on her own because she'd get all the joy.

And then she remembered the diabolical meeting she'd had a few days ago with Potential Donor Number Two. It had been so disappointing she hadn't been able to bring herself to go back to the known donor site since. Yet, without a donor, her dreams of motherhood were futile.

‘Are you okay?' Madeleine felt Mike's hand on her arm and, as she looked into his face, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Embarrassed, she swiped her arm across her face to get rid of it.

‘Of course. Fine. I think I have something in my eye,' she lied, bestowing her patients with a brief smile before turning away.

Her job done for this couple—the midwives would take care of mum and baby and deliver them to the ward—Madeleine left, quickly cleaned up, changed out of her scrubs and then returned to her office. This C-section had been her last patient for the day and although she still wanted to do a round of the maternity ward to check on her other new mums, she first had to pull herself together. This meant getting over the setbacks that had been Potential Donors One and Two and getting back in the saddle—so to speak. Closing her office door, she sat down at her computer and was just entering the website into Safari when there was a knock.

Frowning, she minimised the web browser and called, ‘Come in.'

The door opened and Hugo stood there, so tall he almost touched the top of the door frame and looking way sexier than a tired doctor at the end of his shift had any right to look. ‘Can we talk?' he asked.

She nodded, a shiver running through her at his serious tone. ‘Sure.'

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. Although she'd been alone with Hugo more times than she could count, her heart hitched in her chest and she felt as if her office had shrunk around them like something out of
Alice in Wonderland
.

‘How are you?' she asked, needing to fill the silence. She and Hugo saw each other at the hospital almost daily in a professional capacity but for some reason, they'd barely talked as friends since that night in the restaurant with Celia almost two weeks ago. She didn't know whether she'd been subconsciously avoiding him or if he was avoiding her, but something had shifted between them and she wasn't happy about it.

‘All right.' He sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk, rather than leaning against it like he so often did when they were chatting at the end of a hard day. ‘I've been thinking about your predicament.'

‘Oh.' Heat flooded her body and she reached for a pen, needing something to fiddle with.

‘How'd you go with Potential Donor Number Two?'

Madeleine frowned. She'd been updating Celia via text or email on the saga of her donor hunt. Had she not told him? Or was he simply pretending to be in the dark? Quite frankly, with the weirdness between them, Madeleine wasn't sure she wanted to talk about such personal and confronting things.

But the look in Hugo's eyes unnerved her and in lieu of anything else to say she confessed. ‘Dismally. I'm seriously considering resorting to the anonymous donor thing.'

It was Hugo's turn to frown. ‘But you're going ahead with having a baby on your own?'

‘Yes.' If anything, the hassles of finding a donor had made her more and more convinced of her decision. With each disappointment, her yearning to have a child of her own grew stronger. The way she'd almost lost control of her emotions in theatre proved that she needed to see this decision through.

‘I'll do it.'

‘What?' She thought she must have misheard. Or perhaps the conversation had moved onto some other topic without her noticing.

Hugo leaned forward and planted his elbows on her desk, clasping his hands together in the way he always did when he was serious or focused on something. Her heart picked up speed as he opened his mouth.

‘I'm offering you my sperm, Madeleine. That is, if you find me, as a donor, suitable.'

Holy shit!
Was he kidding? He checked all her boxes for suitability a hundred times over.

She couldn't help the smile that burst on her face as she imagined what a baby made with their combined genes would look like. Would it have blonde hair like hers or the sophisticated copper of his? Until she'd met Hugo, she'd never imagined anyone with red hair could be sexy, but he defied this myth. They were both tall and sporty, so unless they shared some weird recessive genes, their child would have good body structure and excellent muscle tone. And they had high IQs—she imagined them sitting on the floor doing flashcards with their super bright baby.

The word ‘perfect' popped into her head, until she remembered Hugo wouldn't be sitting on the floor sharing parental duties. He wouldn't be there for the good times or the bad. That wouldn't be the arrangement. Her bubble deflating, a voice in her head said she should thank him for the very kind offer but decline. It was the sensible thing to do. After all, a close friend donor was never one of her options. And also, this hadn't been Hugo's idea originally.

If Celia hadn't suggested it at dinner, he'd never have come to her on his own. Would he?

‘Are you sure?' The question came out of her mouth of its own accord but it was a good one.
If
, and it was a big if, they did this, she wanted to make sure he wasn't feeling pressured by Celia or herself.

He nodded. ‘I've barely thought about anything else the past few days. The idea of you going out and looking for a stranger to … to do this
mammoth
thing, just doesn't sit right.'

‘But you don't want children?'

He lifted one shoulder. ‘Celia doesn't want children. I'm indifferent, but I love her.'

Madeleine tried to ignore the stab in her heart at his confession. Of course he loved Celia. She
knew
he loved Celia. Everyone loved Celia.

But then he added, ‘And you want a child and I love you too.'

A shot of adrenalin jolted her heart but somehow she managed to ignore it. He might love her, but not in the same way he loved Celia. Gripping the edge of her desk and thankful she'd been sitting down when he'd hit her with those potent little words, she forced a grateful smile, unable to speak yet.

‘And anyway,' he continued, the hint of a smile creeping onto his face, ‘this wouldn't be my baby, right? Biologically yes, but I'd be like an uncle, interested in the child but with no legal claims or responsibility. Would that work?'

‘Yes. I guess.' She'd never given serious thought to the whole friend-as-donor thing but it might be nice to know her baby would have a male role model, especially if they conceived a boy.

‘I've already spoken to Celia's lawyer friend and he says he can get a contract drawn up pretty quickly. Of course we'll both have to have some medical tests, but …' He leaned back in his seat, clearly relaxing now he'd said what he wanted to say. ‘What do you think? Do you want to do this?'

Madeleine closed her eyes a moment, thinking. The little voice telling her this was a bad idea was getting quieter and quieter. Hugo was offering her an amazing gift. If she accepted it, she could begin the next stage of this journey. No more scouring the internet for suitable donors, no more pseudo-dates in cafes with lunatics. It would be time to move on to tracking her temperature and peeing on ovulation sticks instead.

And, then came the biggie. If she used Hugo as her donor and did get pregnant, she'd always have a part of him, even if she'd never be able to have
him
. Maybe that would be enough?

‘Okay. If you're sure,' she said eventually, finally meeting his gaze.

His lips twisted into a fully fledged smile. ‘I am. I most definitely am. Celia's suggestion just caught me by surprise but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed the perfect solution to your problem. And it will be good to know the Proudfoot genes are not going to end with me.'

She laughed. ‘Yes, that would be a terrible pity.'

Still grinning that Prince Harry smile, Hugo stood and then offered out his hand. ‘Shall we shake on it?'

Her tummy fluttering, her hands also a little quivery and uncharacteristic tears welling up in her eyes, Madeleine nodded as she leant across her desk and reached out to him. His hand closed around hers in a firm grasp and the tiny little hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck lifted. ‘Thank you,' she whispered, before quickly retrieving her hand.

‘I think this deserves a celebration dinner,' he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘You, me and Celia. What do you say?'

Strangely, she didn't want to toast their decision with Celia. Madeleine would have preferred to go home and languish in a warm bath, dreaming about what was to come. But she couldn't exactly turn Hugo down after what he'd just offered. ‘That sounds good.'

‘Great. I'll go make a reservation.' With a slight wave of his hand, he turned, opened the door and walked out of her office, a definite spring in his step.

And Madeleine sank back in her seat to reflect on what the fuck had just happened.

Celia held up her crystal champagne flute and grinned at Madeleine and Hugo who were sitting at a square table on either side of her at their favourite harbourside restaurant. ‘I think we need a toast.'

Hugo raised his glass, which incidentally held club soda because both he and Madeleine were not drinking in the lead-up to attempted conception.

‘To Madeleine's baby,' Celia said, clinking her glass first with Madeleine and then with Hugo.

‘To Madeleine's baby,' Hugo echoed.

‘To … to my baby!' Madeleine had almost said ‘our baby' and took a long sip, hoping neither Celia nor Hugo had noticed. She was sitting here with the father of her future child and his future wife. Talk about complicated.

‘I'm so glad you accepted Hugo's offer,' Celia said, putting her glass down. ‘I couldn't stand the thought of you having to meet any more of those awful men. Having a baby should be an enjoyable experience. And although this isn't the traditional scenario, you should be able to look your child in the eyes and tell him that you actually liked their father.'

Oh, yes, she liked him all right. Unable to speak, she simply nodded and took another sip of her club soda.

Celia didn't appear to notice her discomfort. ‘When do you think you'll be able to start? Have you had any thoughts about names?'

‘Um … well,' Madeleine tried to get her head around Celia's questions. It felt odd to be discussing such things with her, but then again, if it wasn't for Celia she'd probably have spent the evening going back for another trawl through the known donor website. She shuddered at the thought and told herself that if Hugo's fiancée could handle this weirdness, then so could she. Celia was the one who'd have to watch her grow bigger and bigger, knowing she was carrying Hugo's child.

But the bottom line was she thought Celia was probably the better person, definitely a nicer one, and it was kind of odd she didn't want to have children of her own.

Chapter Twenty-four

‘Good news.'

Lucinda's heart was pounding so loud and fast she could feel it in her throat. Joe reached over from his seat beside her in the specialist's office and took hold of her hand.

‘The results of all your tests are now back,' continued Dr Randall, smiling, ‘and I'm pleased to tell you we found no abnormalities with either of you. Joe, your sperm are great little swimmers and the tests show plenty of them.'

‘Bonza.' Joe grinned at Lucinda as if the doctor had just given him the gold medal in a masculinity contest.

‘Hang on a second.' Lucinda snatched her hand from his and leaned forward in her chair, convinced she must have heard wrong. ‘What about me? Surely you must have found something?'

‘Nope, you're in perfect health too.' Dr Randall beamed and then glanced at her watch as if she had more important patients—people with actual problems—to get to. ‘Your general health is impeccable and your follicle stimulating hormones, luteinising hormones and estradiol levels are great too. You're ovulating regularly.'

Although Dr Randall went on a little longer, listing all the ways in which she was perfectly normal and healthy, Lucinda zoned out. She was in shock.

Joe had experienced a few minutes of awkwardness when he'd had to wank into a jar and drive his sperm across town to the pathology lab, but she'd been subjected to all manner of dignity-robbing tests over the last few weeks. And for what?

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