Found: A Father For Her Child Part 18

Charlie could see the reticence in the older woman's eyes but he could also see an innate kindness. He nodded. 'Very much.'

'Come in.'

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as Carrie's mother stood aside and allowed him to enter. Dana clung to his neck and jiggled around in his arms.

He was led into a lounge room. 'Come on, Dana, sweetie. Bedtime.'

Dana protested and Charlie pa.s.sed her over to her grandmother reluctantly. 'I want Charlie to read to me.' Dana pouted.

'Another day, Sleeping Beauty.' Charlie shot Dana his most rea.s.suring smile. If he had his way, he'd be reading to her every night.

'Promise, Charlie?'

Dana looked so earnest and he crossed his fingers behind his back. 'Promise.'

Dana and her grandmother left the room and for the first time he noticed Carrie standing in the doorway. He wanted to run to her but she looked distant, her arms crossed, everything about her discouraging any familiarities.

'Don't do that. You'll only build her hopes up. You shouldn't make promises you can't keep.'

Charlie swallowed. 'I'd like to be able to keep it.'

'I thought you didn't want to be a father to a four-year-old?'

'Carrie...let me explain.'

'Don't waste your breath, Charlie. Save it for Veronica.'

'd.a.m.n it, Carrie,' Charlie swore, striding towards her. 'I don't want Veronica. I only want you.'

He was right in front of her now. Close. So close she could almost touch him. And she wanted to. She'd not seen him for two whole days and the potency of his presence was lethal. She pushed away from the doorframe and took care not to brush against him as she moved into the room, away from his intoxicating nearness.

He turned to face her. 'I know how it must have sounded the other day.'

Carrie gave a bitter laugh. 'Really?'

Charlie sighed. 'You have to understand how it is with my father and I. We have a fraught relationship. I didn't turn out to be what he wanted. My rebellion had always stuck in his craw. So I endure dinner with my parents every Sunday and he rings every week to chew my ear about something I've done that's disappointed him. I guess you can say it's the price I pay for walking my own path.'

Despite her animosity towards him, Charlie painted a bleak portrait of his family life. She almost felt sorry for him. No wonder he doubted his ability to parent. No wonder he had enjoyed his time in her home so much. She couldn't imagine not having the support of her parents. They'd always been behind her in everything she'd done.

'I usually just tune him out. Take the phone call because otherwise he rings incessantly and then I have Angela on my case. He prattles on about my divorce and a surgical position he could get me and I barely even listen. I just say yes, no, really, maybe and grunt a lot.'

Carrie sighed. She didn't want to know this. She didn't want to listen to this. She wanted him gone. Before she did something stupid, like throw herself at him.

'I really don't want to rehash this, Charlie. If that's what you came for, you might as well just leave now.'

Charlie could see the dark smudges under her eyes. She looked tired, like she hadn't been sleeping. Now, that he could relate to. She looked like she was out of patience and he knew that trying to convince her of his love tonight was the wrong move.

'I want you to help me save the centre.'

'What?'

Bingo! 'Have you completed your report?'

'Today.'

'Have you submitted it?'

She shook her head. 'Tomorrow.' Along with my resignation.

'Don't.'

Carrie shot him an exasperated look. 'I hope you didn't come to persuade me to interfere with my investigation.' I love you but I won't do that.

'No.' He shook his head vehemently. 'Of course not. I'm just asking you to...delay it a little.'

'Charlie...'

'No.' He put his hands up in a silencing gesture. 'Just hear me out, OK? You know the centre's finances backwards. You know how it got broken. You must know how it can be fixed. I have a bunch of ideas I've been working on-' he thrust a folder towards her '-to make the expansion and the clinic viable. And I know you can do the rest.'

'Charlie...' she pleaded. She just wanted to get on with her life. She didn't want any more involvement with him. It would be hard enough loving him and never seeing him again. But having to work with him to save the centre? She'd never survive it.

'I know you care about the centre. You go on about the bottom line but I've seen the change in you over the last few weeks. And the centre did that. It gave you back your love of medicine.'

Carrie felt tears well in her eyes. 'No, Charlie. You gave me back my love of medicine.'

He shrugged. 'I am the centre.'

She nodded. He was right. Every patient, every basketball game, every ding in the walls was his. He'd built it up. His personal stamp was everywhere. Every corner, every piece of furniture had a story. And he could relay each one.

'I know you care what happens to my community. To people. I could see that in you that night you knelt on the road beside me.'

He walked towards her slowly until he was so close he could hear her uneven breathing. He stroked a hand down the side of her neck and rubbed his thumb over the pulse that was beating frantically at the base of her throat.

'You were scared rigid but you helped anyway. I need your help again, Carrie.'

She swallowed. The man she loved was standing before her, touching her, asking her for something. Did she have the power to deny him? My community, he had said. His community. Could she turn her back on a bunch of people who needed Charlie and his centre? People who in a few short weeks had managed to also enter her affections?

'I'll look...' She stopped and coughed to clear the huskiness from her voice. 'Look over it and let you know.'

She took a step back and relieved him of the folder.

'Thank you.'

Carrie nodded, not trusting her voice. He reached out for her and she took another step back, shaking her head, impossibly weary. He had to go before she completely broke down. Because then he might hold her and she couldn't be responsible for her actions if he touched her. She was trying to salvage as much pride out of this as she could-he didn't need to see her impersonation of a raving wreck.

'Goodbye, Charlie.'

She turned and left the lounge room, uncaring about how or if he left. She just had to get away before she crumpled. Before she laid her head against his chest and begged him to love her. Love them.

She wandered into her old bedroom. Dana was fast asleep on a portable bed, all snug and safe. One blonde lock covering an eye. Her daughter was going to be heartbroken.

'd.a.m.n you, Charlie. d.a.m.n you for making us love you.'

Carrie felt like someone had put red-hot pokers in her eyes the next morning. She'd been up until four a.m., going over the ideas that Charlie had given her and considering them in context with the centre's current financial woes. Charlie had been right when he'd said she'd know how to fix it. But she'd been impressed with his thoughts and she'd felt a buzz of excitement and possibility course through her bloodstream, which had kept her awake despite her tiredness.

The potential and possibilities for the centre were enormous. But it needed a lot of TLC and someone who had both medical and administration skills. Charlie was hopeless. He was a fantastic doctor, a caring and dedicated advocate for the community. But his business ac.u.men sucked. In short, the centre needed someone just like her! Not her. Someone like her.

She clicked on the 'print' icon on her computer screen and yawned as she waited for the multi-paged doc.u.ment to spit out of the machine beneath her desk. It was her report. Her altered report. It encompa.s.sed the problems but also the solutions and Charlie's grand plans to make it a facility that would do Brisbane proud. She would take it to Charlie and then she would submit it to the board.

She opened another doc.u.ment and clicked on the 'print' icon again. A copy of her resignation was in her hands in a matter of seconds. She looked it over. Fear and uncertainty grasped at her gut. But as she folded it to fit into a sterile yellow envelope she knew she was doing the right thing. This job was slowly strangling her. She knew that now. Thanks to Charlie and the centre. She was ready to go back to the coalface.

She pa.s.sed the boardroom on her way to the medical director's office, envelope in hand. She felt strangely compelled to enter. On this, her last day, she needed to confront a few ghosts.

She looked around at the rich, elegant decor. She inhaled and the smell of leather and wood a.s.saulted her nostrils. Before her current a.s.signment this room had always given her goose-b.u.mps. There was something strangely seductive about the management nerve centre. The room where all the decisions were made. The power was almost tangible. She had known the minute she'd set foot in it that this was her destiny.

Now the room was stifling. Oppressive. The thought of sitting at this table and talking policies and strategic planning left her empty. She left quickly, wanting no reminder of the mistake she'd nearly made, thinking that this was her path in life. If nothing else, and despite her broken heart, she had Charlie to thank for removing her blinkers.

She strode purposefully to her boss's office. He wasn't in. She placed the yellow envelope on his desk, where he couldn't fail to see it when he returned. And then turned around and walked out of the hospital. Today was a new beginning for her. Her personal life may have been a mess but her medical career was finally back on track.

Charlie was in his office, talking to Joe, when Carrie arrived.

'Hi, Joe.'

'Hey, Carrie.' He winked. 'We've missed you around here.'

Carrie nodded distractedly, her eyes barely acknowledging him as she sought the one pair of eyes she'd come there for. 'h.e.l.lo, Charlie.'

Charlie stood up, encouraged by the shimmer in her whiskey-coloured depths. 'Hi.'

They stood staring at each other hungrily for a few moments. She at the door, he at his desk. Joe rolled his eyes and gave Carrie a gentle push inside, closing the door and shutting them away in a bubble of privacy.

Carrie smiled and took a step forward. 'I looked over your ideas.' She threw the doc.u.ment on the table. 'I think we can save the clinic. This is the report that I plan on submitting later this afternoon.'

Charlie's heart beat frantically and his hand shook slightly as he picked up the wad of paper.

'It will take some streamlining. Some adjustment in the way you run things. It certainly involves employing a practice manager. But I think, with the help of some hefty private-sector support, it can be done.'

Carrie paced as she talked in the small s.p.a.ce available. She slipped into businesswoman mode, more nervous than she'd ever been at how he would take it.

Charlie's heartbeat accelerated as he flicked through the report. It was comprehensive and substantive. She must have been up all night.

'Did you sleep last night?'

Carrie gave a wry smile. 'A little.'

It was marvellous. Charlie knew he held in his hands the ability to keep the centre going. And Carrie had given him the way. 'It's amazing! I don't know what to say...how to thank you.'

He rounded the desk and before either of them could caution against it swept her into his arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace.

Carrie hung on, most definitely swept away. This was where she belonged. How unfair was life?

The door barged open and they sprang apart guiltily. 'Charles! What is the meaning of this?' Ignatius Wentworth demanded.

Carrie froze and looked from father to son. She could see all the veins standing out in Charlie's father's neck. But Charlie looked pretty angry also, a nerve twitching at the angle of his jaw. She edged closer to him.

'Exactly what it looks like,' Charlie said calmly, gathering Carrie to his side and placing an arm around her back, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Ignatius looked from one to the other. 'I thought you were just friends. You can't be serious.'

'Perfectly.' Charlie smiled down at the woman he loved and stroked the skin at her nape.

'But...Veronica.'

'We're divorced.'

'You can get her back.'

Charlie laughed. 'I don't want her back. I want Carrie.'

Carrie's heart thundered as Charlie's father gave her a once-over.

'You want to be a father to another man's child? Preposterous!'

The slow stroke of Charlie's thumb on her neck was rea.s.suring and she lifted her chin and looked Ignatius Wentworth straight in the eye.

'I would be Dana's father with pride.'

Carrie looked at him, startled. Was he just saying that to annoy his father? He looked dead serious.

'You can do better than this.'

Charlie felt a flare of anger scorch his cheeks and burn in his stomach. His finger stilled its rhythmic movement. 'I would be very, very careful what you say, Father.'

Carrie shivered at the steel she heard in Charlie's voice. She saw surprise register in the older man's eyes, replaced with a slightly bewildered look.

'Charles...please. You could be a top-cla.s.s surgeon. Have a brilliant career. Why are you wasting your life down here with these people? You could have your choice of specialties.'

Carrie cleared her throat. What was wrong with this oaf? Couldn't he see that what Charlie did was a specialty?

'With all due respect, Dr Wentworth, community medicine is a specialty and a very worthwhile one, too.' Carrie's voice was shaky and Charlie's father was looking at her like she'd just answered the headmaster back.

She pushed on anyway. 'And your son is a brilliant doctor. He may not cut open chests or find cures for cancer, but he's the life force in this community. He's the man these people come to if they're sick, if they're dying, if they're beaten, if they're in trouble, if they've got nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat or even if they've just lost their way. He's got grand plans for this place and he's just the visionary these people need. You want him to forge a brilliant career? Well, he is. It may not be in a glamorous field but you'd better believe he's the best there is. Any father should be proud to call him his son.'

Charlie was speechless. So was Ignatius. They both stared at her. There was silence in the room for a few moments. Ignatius recovered first.

Ignoring Carrie, he said, 'We will talk about this at dinner on Sunday.'

'No, Father. We won't.'