Darkness Series

Part 19: Another Light on the Horizon

 

The young man opened the front gate and, whistling softly, began to stroll along the path. The girl playing on the swing set looked over her shoulder before scrambling down and running up to him, holding out her arms.

 

“Mark!”

 

“Hi, beautiful.” He kissed the tip of Charlotte’s nose as he swung her up into his arms. “How’s my favorite girl?”

 

“Good.” Charlotte hugged him enthusiastically around the neck. “Did you do the ‘zam?”

 

“I sure did.” He carried her into his room and dropped the bag containing his exam notes onto the bed. “And now I’m going to take life easy for the next day or two.”

 

She looked up at him hopefully. “Will you play wif me?”

 

“What do you want to play?”

 

“Doctors?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “And I have to be the patient, right?”

 

“Yup.” She grinned. “Daddy said you’ll do it for work, so I get to do it at home.”

 

“You’re Dad’s too smart for his own good,” the young man grumbled, letting the girl drag him out of the room and stopping short when he saw Jarod leaning against the wall with his arms folded and a grin on his face. Mark shook his head in disgust. “Me and my big mouth.”

 

“I think that gives you dinner duty,” the older man commented, his eyes twinkling.

 

“That’s the third time this week,” Mark protested. “When’s Michelle coming to visit again?”

 

“The day after tomorrow,” Jarod told him. “But until then…”

 

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Mark retorted. “And traditionally that’s your night. Besides, Nicole would be very unhappy if she didn’t get to taste your cooking at least once a week.”

 

“I’m not the only one who’s too smart for my own good,” Jarod commented as he followed the two people into the living room, watching as Charlotte pushed Mark onto the sofa. “How did it go?”

 

“I’m happy with it,” the younger man replied. “A couple of them were a bit tough – things from first year that they haven’t mentioned since…”

 

“And which you studied two nights ago, on the off-chance that they might include them,” the man in the armchair commented with a grin. “Good foresight.”

 

“Actually, it was Sydney's idea,” Mark confessed. “I hadn’t even thought of it.”

 

“Typical.” Jarod rolled his eyes, grinning as Charlotte put the plastic thermometer in Mark’s mouth and picked up his wrist as if to take his pulse. “That’s very good, sweetheart. Who taught you how to do that so well?”

 

“Mark.” She smiled at her father. “He said we should do it right.”

 

“He’s right.” Jarod filled a glass from a jug on the coffee table, looking at his daughter. “Can I offer your patient a drink?”

 

“Nope.” Charlotte shook her head firmly. “You said people shouldn’t have anything to eat or drink before they have a ‘noperation.”

 

“Is he so sick?” Jarod raised an eyebrow as he sipped the water himself. “He doesn’t look that bad.”

 

“She’s the doctor,” Mark put in, grinning. “And I always thought people should do exactly what their doctors tell them to.”

 

“Of course they should,” Jarod agreed. “I just don’t think surgery’s necessary in this case.”

 

“What would you recommend, then?” the younger man asked.

 

“Something to take your mind off it, such as cooking dinner,” the doctor replied promptly, at which Mark rolled his eyes.

 

“I should have guessed.” He picked up the girl, who had happily nestled in his lap, and carried her into the kitchen before turning to Jarod, a patronizing look on his face. “And what would the hard-working surgeon care for, for dinner this evening?”

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

“The Chinese restaurant down the street,” Mark laughed. “I’ve heard they do a good takeaway.”

 

“A specialist can’t afford to be lazy,” Jarod told him sternly.

 

“I’m not a specialist yet,” Mark shot back, grinning. “There’s no guarantee I passed.”

 

“As Nicole said to me when I made a similar suggestion, ‘Yes, I can really see you failing, too’.” Jarod began to chop the vegetables that Mark got out of the fridge. “What do you think?”

 

“I have a good incentive to pass,” the younger man stated quietly, suddenly serious. “I do have a promise to keep.”

 

“I’m sure they’re proud of you,” Jarod stated. “I know they are, even if you don’t pass the exams, for whatever reason.”

 

“Like having to cook dinner too often,” Mark joked, rapidly changing the subject. “I’m sure that did some damage.”

 

“Yes, it got you out of your room, so you didn’t end up with a bad back,” Jarod retorted. “That was also the reason I dragged you out of bed early to go for a run every day.”

 

“That’s just to work off all the PEZ you eat,” Mark replied, turning on the oven. “And we won’t say anything about all the other things your wife doesn’t know about.”

 

“Such as?” Nicole queried as she walked into the kitchen, one hand on the rounded stomach that was beginning to announce her coming baby, and her cat riding on her shoulder.

 

Jarod glared at Mark. “Please tell me you didn’t know she was there.”

 

“ ‘I didn’t know she was there’,” Mark recited obediently, with a grin. “Happy?”

 

“No, because now I think you’re lying.”

 

Mark threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t win.”

 

“It’s okay, Mark,” Nicole told him as she picked up the little girl who, with Charlie, had been sitting on the floor at the feet of the two men. “I believe you.”

 

“Thanks, Nicole.” He gave her a grateful smile, putting the prepared meat into the oven so neither of the other adults in the kitchen would be able to see his eyes twinkling. “It’s fantastic the way I’m getting treated so well on my birthday.”

 

“Birthday?” Jarod turned with a look of horror. “Why didn’t you mention it before?”

 

“It didn’t seem that important,” Mark shrugged. “Besides,” he added, grinning, “if I had, I wouldn’t have got to see that wonderful expression on your face.”

 

“Anyway, Jarod,” another voice put in from the doorway, “you’ve seen his details on various tests Mark’s done. What’s wrong with that wonderful memory of yours that you didn’t notice?”

 

“Are you saying that you did?” the doctor demanded and Sydney nodded.

 

“Several months ago, but, like Mark, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that look on your face.”

 

“In other words, the two of you were colluding…”

 

“Not quite,” interposed the younger man as he put the vegetables on to cook. “Sydney asked me, and I suggested we keep it quiet.” He smiled. “I certainly got the response I hoped for.”

 

“You did,” the psychiatrist agreed, laughing. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

 

“Very.” Mark turned away from the stove and took Charlotte as the girl held out her arms.

 

“Well, the two of you can go and be smug in the living room,” Jarod told Mark firmly, “while Nicole and I work out some way to make up for it.”

 

“Does that mean I get out of having to make dinner?”

 

“You seem to have done most of it,” Nicole told him with a grin. “But it certainly gets you out of the washing-up.”

 

“The benefits of birthdays,” Mark remarked to Sydney as they left the room. “Do you think the fact that they didn’t know today will get me out of doing it tomorrow too?”

 

Nicole turned to Jarod as soon as they had left. “How did we miss it last year?”

 

“Mark’s mother,” he reminded her. “It wasn’t that much later…”

 

“True.” She looked sad for a moment before eyeing him again. “Have you got any ideas?”

 

“Just one.” He grinned, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. “This was delivered to my office this morning, as a result of the most recent board meeting. I think it’s a very appropriate present.”

 

His wife took the envelope and opened it, quickly reading through the contents before she smiled, kissing him. “Yes, I think that’s perfect.”

 

* * *

 

Mark glanced down as Nicole took his plate to find the envelope on the tablecloth underneath and picked it up, looking at Jarod. “What’s this?”

 

“Birthday present,” the doctor commented with a grin. “Although I will admit that you were going to get it anyway.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Mark lifted the flap and slid out the single sheet of paper, unfolding it to read through the brief message it contained, before his jaw dropped and he looked up.

 

“Is this for real?”

 

“I think so, unless the Board was kidding me around last night,” Jarod told him. “My assistant was offered a job at another hospital, and accepted. That leaves an opening for somebody with your knowledge, and it was a quick and easy decision for the Board to make.”

 

Speechless, the young man sent his gaze back down to the job offer in his hands, staring down at it until Jarod got impatient.

 

“Well, are you going to accept, Dr. Lyneham, or will we have to look for somebody else?”

 

“I…” He looked up. “I don’t know what to say.”

 

“I think the answer that Jarod's waiting for is ‘yes’,” Nicole whispered loudly in his ear. “Unless, of course, you don’t want it.”

 

“Oh, I do.” Mark clutched the letter to his chest, as if somebody was going to tear it away. “I do want it, very much.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Jarod gave a satisfied smile. “You’ll have to wait a week or so until Dr. Meyer can vacate his office completely, but after that it’s all yours.”

 

“A… an office?”

 

“Dr. Lyneham, you’ll be a practicing professional,” Jarod reminded him. “Where did you intend to consult with your patients – the hallway?”

 

“Don’t overwhelm the poor boy, Jarod,” Nicole scolded. “Give him a chance to get over the shock first. After all, he could hardly have guessed that it would happen this fast, or at all.” She looked at Charlotte, who was watching Mark with wide eyes, and noticed the paper clutched in the girl’s hand. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

 

“A birfday card,” Charlotte told her mother. “For Mark.”

 

Jarod eyed Sydney somewhat viciously. “Were you trying to make me look bad?”

 

“Not at all,” the psychiatrist replied airily. “But, as Charlotte was a little bored this afternoon, it was a good solution.”

 

Mark put down the precious letter and took the card that the girl gave him, taking Charlotte on his lap at the same time. He solemnly examined the card before hugging the child.

 

“It’s lovely, Charlotte. Thank you very much.”

 

“You’re welcum,” she beamed. “Will you tell me a story tonight?”

 

“I think I can manage that,” he smiled, putting her back in her seat, as Nicole brought in the bowls of dessert. Eyeing the contents, he smiled again, somewhat sadly. “Mom made trifle sometimes. It was Dad’s favorite.”

 

Nicole gave him a sympathetic smile as she gave out the bowls, delicately changing the subject.

 

* * *

 

Mark stopped telling the story that he had promised, glancing down to see that the small girl in his lap was almost asleep. Picking her up, he laid the child down on her bed and covered her with the warm blankets that the coldness of the season required.

 

“Good night, Charlotte,” he murmured, turning on a nightlight and extinguishing the bedside lamp. Leaving the door ajar, he descended the stairs to find Jarod in the living room, Toby curled up in his lap. “Did I hear the phone before?”

 

“You did,” the older man agreed. “Nicole had to run off, and Sydney went, too, to check on one of his patients.”

 

“I thought he was retired,” Mark laughed, curling up on the rug in front of the fire with Charlie.

 

“So did I,” Jarod stated in amusement. “But he was getting bored, and the psychiatric department was overloaded, so he offered to take some of their patients.”

 

Mark grinned, lying so his chest rested against the dog’s back, his face half-buried in the ruff around Charlie’s neck. The grin gradually faded as Mark gazed thoughtfully at the floor, and Jarod watched him for a moment before picking up his book again. The months since Mark had come to live with them permanently had revealed that this was the best way to deal with the young man’s introspective periods, which were becoming less frequent as the pain of his mother’s death faded. Eventually, however, Mark sat up, beginning to gently tug on the dog’s ears, as he looked at the older man.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.” Putting down his book, Jarod glanced briefly at the face of his dog, whose eyes were shut in rapture, before turning to Mark. “What’s up?”

 

“It’s this.” Mark pulled the letter from his pocket and put it on the coffee table. “Do you really think I can do it?”

 

“If I didn’t,” the surgeon responded seriously, “you would never have received the letter. The final vote was mine, and I agreed with the overwhelming majority who wanted the place offered to you before it became public.”

 

Mark looked up quickly. “Are you saying that it wasn’t your idea in the first place?”

 

“No,” Jarod smiled. “I had thought about it when I received David Meyer’s resignation, but I didn’t want to be hit with claims of ‘favoritism’. If nobody had offered any other suggestions then I would have proposed it to the board, but I didn’t have to.”

 

The younger man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So who did?”

 

“James Shirer.”

 

Jarod hid a smile as Mark’s jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened.

 

“He… he did?”

 

“He was very eager for you to be offered it,” the older man told him. “James has always been full of praise for you, ever since you were interning under him.”

 

“Despite… what happened?”

 

Mark was watching Jarod closely and noticed a faint color rise in his cheeks that gave the younger man an idea. After a moment of silence, Mark continued.

 

“So why wouldn’t he let me keep interning under him, if he’s so impressed with me?”

 

“He didn’t,” Jarod admitted with a sigh, annoyed with himself for letting this slip. “Once I explained the situation, he was quite happy to have had you the following year. I asked James if he’d stand aside so that you could do your internship with me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Several reasons. One was the reason I told you at the time – I wanted to see how you’d go once you began to intern. Also, I knew that James’ interests lay in the area of plastic surgery and yours didn’t. I thought it would be better for your future career if you interned under somebody who also worked in that field.”

 

Mark sat up straighter, ignoring the dog, which was now pawing him for attention. “Why didn’t you tell me that at the time?”

 

Jarod raised an eyebrow. “You’d just broken the law, Mark,” he began sternly.

 

“Listen to the pot calling the kettle black,” Nicole teased as she entered the room and sat down on the sofa. “What wonderful hypocrisy!”

 

“How’s your patient?” her husband demanded immediately.

 

“Fine, and don’t change the subject,” she told him, eyes dancing with laughter. “You know I don’t leave my patients until they’re stable.”

 

“Except for the ones you sedate heavily, so you can escape,” Jarod joked. “And then call up at all sorts of hours to ‘make sure they’re okay’.”

 

“Yes, except for those,” she agreed cheerfully, covering her cold hands with his warm ones. “And aren’t you glad I did?”

 

“I suppose I am,” he responded, kissing her.

 

“Suppose?!” Nicole sat upright, glaring at him indignantly. “Only ‘suppose’?”

 

“Well,” Jarod extemporized as he drew her into his arms again. “Maybe not only…”

 

* * *

 

“Mark!” The small hands tugged on the blankets that were wrapped around the young man, as he lay curled up under the covers. “Mark, wake up!”

 

Blearily opening one eye, Mark groaned at the sight of daylight around his curtains and rubbed the bridge of his nose to remove his customary headache. “Is it morning already?”

 

“Yup!” Charlotte cheerfully told him as she used the hands he offered to scramble into bed beside him, and then snuggled down in his arms. “You never finished my story.”

 

“You fell asleep, gorgeous,” he told her with a laugh, kissing the tip of her button nose. “Were you wanting me to finish it now?”

 

“Uh huh.” Nodding vigorously, Charlotte settled herself comfortably and listened as he finished a story that he had been making up. When it was done, they both looked around at the sound of the applause to see Nicole in the doorway.

 

“You should write that down,” the woman told Mark, as the girl scrambled out of the bed, running to her mother. “You have a wonderful imagination, Mark.”

 

Laughing, Mark got out of bed. “Maybe, if I can find a spare five minutes one day, I will.” Walking over, he hugged her. “How are you and Christopher this morning, Nicole?”

 

“Doing fine.” She placed a hand on her stomach as he drew back. “But we had a restless night.”

 

He grinned. “Can I do anything for you today? Clean the house, maybe?”

 

Nicole narrowed her eyes in mock-suspicion. “What do you want from me?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” Mark assured her, his eyes twinkling. “But I’ll be starting work proper tomorrow, so I thought I’d do what I could today, before I lose my chance at a private life.”

 

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Jarod protested as he appeared in the doorway behind his wife. “You’ll get a good two minutes every day for a private life.”

 

“You’re leaving the door very wide open for a response,” Mark joked. “But I’ll be nice to my boss, and leave it alone.”

 

“That’s very sensible of you,” Jarod told him. “Coming for a run?”

 

“Give me that two minutes you mentioned before,” the young man replied immediately, grabbing his tracksuit. Nodding, Jarod followed his wife down the hall, leaving Mark to change.

 

* * *

 

Mark did up his tie, glancing at himself in the full-length mirror in the corner of his room. Flicking a piece of fluff from his sleeve, he watched Toby slink into the room and stepped away as the cat approached.

 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he scolded the animal. “No hugs this morning. But I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

 

“Very generous of you,” Sydney commented from the doorway. “Want to help me make breakfast for everyone else?”

 

“The hard-working household?” Mark laughed. “Sure.”

 

In the kitchen, they began making coffee, Mark getting out the mugs as Sydney filled the machine and turned it on.

 

“How are you feeling?” Sydney queried. “Ready?”

 

“Nope.” Mark’s tone was definite. “But that’s never stopped me before.”

 

The psychiatrist laughed. “I felt the same way, when I started work.”

 

“You can remember that far back?” Jarod joked as he entered. “Amazing.”

 

“You’re up early,” Sydney remarked, ignoring the insult.

 

“Charlotte woke me,” Jarod responded. “I think she could be coming down with something.”

 

Sydney looked concerned. “I’ll mention it to Michelle when she comes.”

 

Nodding, Jarod began making the toast. Charlotte, despite her premature birth, had been strong as a baby, but a cold, contracted at fifteen months, had left her lungs somewhat weak, and her parents worried if she became ill. Michelle, most of her training having been with even younger children than Sydney had overseen, nursed the girl as the occasion demanded, while her parents worked.

 

“Is Nicole going in to work today?” Sydney queried as they sat down to breakfast.

 

“This afternoon,” Jarod responded as he began on his toast. “She’s got a few patients then, but she’ll be here ‘till then and back almost immediately afterwards.”

 

“And you?”

 

“No idea.” Jarod shrugged. “My day’s packed. I’ll be lucky to find time for lunch. You?”

 

“A busy morning, but nothing this afternoon, which is when Michelle said she’d come.” Sydney's eyes twinkled as he turned to the third man at the table. “Mark?”

 

“Several appointments this morning,” he replied, eyes fixed on the table. “And I don’t know what’s happening this afternoon.”

 

“I have twenty minutes free at two,” Jarod put in. “So, if you need a hand…”

 

“Thanks,” Mark interrupted quietly. “But I want to do as much as I can for myself.”

 

Jarod simply nodded, but Mark saw the expression of satisfaction in his eyes, and, coming from a man for whom he had begun to develop a feeling of deep respect, this gave him encouragement. He remained silent for the remainder of the meal, but his eyes glowed with determination, walking with the other doctors out to the three cars that would be taken to the hospital that morning.

 

* * *

 

“And, for those who don’t know,” Jarod concluded the meeting. “This is Dr. Mark Lyneham, who is taking David Meyer’s place. Have a good day, everyone.”

 

Mark rose to his feet, momentarily unsure of what to do, and then felt a hand on his arm, looking up into the doctor’s smiling face.

 

“Congratulations, Mark.”

 

“Thank you, Dr. Shirer.”

 

“James,” the man corrected instantly, his smile broadening. “We’re colleagues now, you know.”

 

“That might take a while,” Mark admitted, as they left the meeting room, heading for the elevators.

 

“What do you call the Boss?” James asked, laughing as Jarod looked back over his shoulder, his eyes dancing with amusement.

 

“It depends on the context,” the younger doctor admitted.

 

“Then it can do so here, too,” Dr. Shirer remarked. “In front of patients, the rule of thumb is to use titles. Among ourselves, first names are fine.”

 

Stopping in the doorway to his office, Mark sent James a shy smile. “Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.”

 

* * *

 

When the door closed behind the first patient, Mark sagged back in his seat, heaving a deep sigh that revealed his relief. Pulling the folder concerning the patient towards him, he opened it and picked up his pen. Before he could begin writing, however, the corner of a small red note caught his eye, and he pulled it out.

 

‘It gets easier from now on,’ read the words, in Jarod's handwriting, and Mark smiled as he tucked the note into his shirt pocket, starting to write out the notes he had made during the consultation.

 

“Dr. Lyneham?”

 

It took Mark several seconds to remember that that was him, but he eventually looked up to find the woman who acted as his secretary in the doorway.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Dr. Crawford to see you, sir.”

 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

 

“The… the boss, sir.”

 

Suppressing his urge to smile at the woman’s tense tone, he nodded thoughtfully. “What time’s my next appointment?”

 

“Twenty minutes, Dr. Lyneham.”

 

“Send him in.” Mark capped the pen and placed it in the tray, looking up as Jarod appeared in the doorway and closed the door after himself.

 

“How did it go?”

 

“Well, they’re coming back in two weeks,” Mark joked. “I guess that’s a good sign.”

 

Laughing, Jarod sat opposite. “They seemed pretty satisfied when they left, so it looks positive on all sides.”

 

Trying not to reveal the embarrassment that the compliment caused him, Mark’s eyes was caught by the clock, providing him with a way to change the subject. “I thought you were busy all morning with appointments.”

 

“I had a cancellation,” Jarod admitted. “Something about them hearing there was this new, young doctor at the hospital and they’d prefer to see him…”

 

“Okay, enough!” Mark protested, laughing.

 

“Actually, that’s almost the truth,” the older man admitted, grinning. “They have to cancel, and, as I don’t have any space for almost a month, they’re coming to you instead.”

 

Mark raised an eyebrow, trying not to look horrified. “I’m getting one of your patients?”

 

“Not exactly. I’ve got the referral, which I’ll hand over to you, but I haven’t seen this patient yet, so she’s not really mine.”

 

Nodding, Mark managed not to reveal his relief, changing the subject. “You said this morning that I could come to you if I needed advice. I was wondering how I could do that, and still maintain the necessary patient confidentiality.”

 

“There are such things as hypothetical situations, you know,” Jarod responded. “But your case is a little different because we’re working in the same field. You’re allowed to call in a consultant if you feel that a case is beyond you, or to confirm facts. In such a case, it might not be necessary for me to see the patient’s name or details, or else I can become a secondary level of consultation.”

 

“Excuse me, Dr. Lyneham,” a voice interrupted from the doorway. “You next appointment is here.”

 

“Thank you.” Mark nodded at the woman, who disappeared. Jarod stood up, smiling.

 

“Hope the rest of the morning goes well,” he murmured as a couple appeared in the doorway, and then Jarod left the office.

 

Even as he stood to greet his next patients, Mark saw Jarod say something to his secretary, who immediately nodded and cast her eyes down, shooting a glance at the intercom box on her desk and nodding, leaving Mark to guess that she had been told to use that and not interrupt any of the conversations which might be occurring in the room. Then the door closed, and the young doctor turned his attention to the young couple and their child who sat opposite him.

 

* * *

 

Pulling off his tie, Mark walked through the front door of the house, having guessed from the lack of cars out front that he was the first one home, and, remembering the remark from breakfast that morning, lowered his voice.

 

“Michelle?”

 

The woman’s voice was equally quiet in response. “Living room, Mark.”

 

Having draped his jacket on the bed, he walked in that direction, picking up Toby and putting the cat on his shoulder as he passed it. Coming into the spacious area, he saw Michelle on the sofa, Charlotte curled up in her arms, her cheeks flushed red and eyes closed.

 

“How was your day?” the woman asked softly.

 

“Fine.” He smiled. “Want me to get you a drink?”

 

“Love one. There’s some lemonade in the fridge.”

 

Pouring the drinks, he carried them back into the living room and sat down opposite her. Glancing at the girl in her arms, his eyes softened.

 

“How is she?”

 

“Not too happy right now,” Michelle admitted. “But she’ll be fine in a few days.”

 

Mark nodded, sipping the cold drink, as he absent-mindedly rubbed the neck of the cat, which was now sitting in his lap. As Toby started to purr, the sounds broke into his thoughts and Mark blinked, looking down at the cat.

 

“I should change,” the man stated, eyeing the hair on his shirt and pants. “I was intending to wear this again at some point in the future, and I don’t want to look like I’ve slept in it.”

 

Michelle laughed quietly. “You’ll have to keep Toby out of your room. Once, when Nicholas was here, Toby crept in and slept on his best pullover. It took hours to get clean.”

 

“You hear?” Mark said sternly, eyeing the cat, as he stopped scratching its head. “No trespassing in my room. I’ll be keeping my wardrobe door very firmly closed.”

 

Giving the man an indignant look, Toby jumped down from Mark’s knee and headed for the door. When the two people laughed, the little girl raised her head, holding out her arms with a sniff as soon as she saw Mark. Michelle handed over the child before getting up to begin making dinner.

 

“How are you feeling, Charlotte?” Mark asked, as the girl snuggled up against his shoulder.

 

“Awful,” she snuffled miserably, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.

 

“I know, baby,” he murmured sympathetically. “Want me to take you up to bed and tell you a story for a while?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

The girl put her head on his shoulder as she nodded, wrapping her arms around Mark’s neck. He stood up and carried her up the stairs, straightening the bedclothes firmly and then turning them back before sitting down on the bed. Charlotte was asleep again before he had properly started the story, and Mark laid her on the bed, covering her with the blankets before turning on the baby monitor and leaving the room.

 

* * *

 

“How is she?” Nicole asked as Mark appeared in the living room.

 

“Grumpy and irritable.” He grinned. “She’s getting better.”

 

The woman laughed as she stood up. “It sounds like it. Want to come and carve for dinner? Jarod just called to say he’d be here in about an hour. He said we shouldn’t wait for him.”

 

“Sure.” Mark followed the woman into the kitchen. “Did Sydney and Michelle leave already?”

 

“Ten minutes ago,” she told him, leaning against the bench. “They’re going for dinner before the show starts, so that’s why they left early.”

 

Mark pretended to look hurt. “They’re knocking back one of my dinners for a restaurant?”

 

“Apparently,” Nicole laughed, before suddenly gasping. Mark shot her a sharp look, dropping the carving implements as he saw the lack of color in her face.

 

“What is it?” he prompted, hurrying to her side and slipping an arm around her back to hold her up.

 

“The… the baby,” Nicole told him through gritted teeth, her fingers tightening around the curved edge of the bench. “I think it’s coming even… faster than Charlotte did.”

 

“Want me to call an ambulance?” he asked as he helped her to sit down on the floor, being the most convenient place.

 

“They…” she paused, gritting her teeth, her fingers squeezing Mark’s hand tightly, as the next contraction began, almost before the other had ended, “…they won’t… be in… time…”

 

Mark found himself rapidly recalling his lectures about delivering babies, immediately standing to fill the kettle and place it on the stovetop before handing her the dishcloth to squeeze during the contractions and then going into the living room for cushions. The linen closet yielded the clean towels he needed and he returned to the kitchen to put them on the floor and then cut off several lengths of twine.

 

“Let me just say,” Mark stated with a grin as he poured the hot water into a container, adding a pair of sharp scissors, “that I didn’t expect to ever perform surgery at your house, let alone on the kitchen floor. If this actually counts as surgery.”

 

Nicole’s brown eyes rolled up to glare at him. “Not… funny…” she gasped.

 

Mark tipped a small amount of disinfectant into the bowl and then hurried into the bathroom for the medical kit, returning to kneel in front of Nicole and remove her pants and underwear, able to see that her cervix was fully dilated as he dipped his hands in the hot water and then pulled on a pair of latex gloves, knowing things were as sterile as he could make them.

 

“Ready?”

 

Her fingers tightened around the dishcloth, beads of sweat already standing out on her forehead, but she nodded briefly. Mark laid out the towels and other objects he would need, removing the scissors from the water and placing them a towel before checking Nicole’s pulse and respiration. A quick glance showed him that his role was probably going to be limited and over soon.

 

“All right, Nicole,” he told her calmly. “When you feel ready, I want you to push.”

 

Almost immediately, he could see the baby’s head as she bore down, encouraging her as he supported the head with the palm of his hand.

 

“Good,” he encouraged. “Very good. Keep going. As long as you can.”

 

Almost before he realized, the head was through and Nicole was lying back on the cushions, her face red as she gasped for breath.

 

“Again,” he urged. “Come on, the shoulders now and then the hardest part’s over. One more big push, Nicole.”

 

A sound somewhere between a scream and a roar came from her mouth as she made an effort, which caused the body to slide into his hands, hearing her pant as he wiped the boy with a towel, wrapping it up and then placing the baby in her arms. Nicole’s arm curled around the small body, which had already begun to cry noisily, as Mark tied off the umbilical cord and cut through it.

 

Dropping the scissors back in the water, he quickly moved away the stained towels and replaced them with clean ones before taking back the newborn.

 

“Ten fingers and,” he checked inside the towel with a grin, “ten toes. A perfect, and if I may say so, very solid, baby boy.”

 

“And only two weeks early,” she told him triumphantly. Mark waited until the afterbirth had been delivered and then stripped off his gloves before dampening a cloth and wiping her face with it.

 

“Bed?” he suggested with a grin, and she gave him an exhausted smile.

 

“Please.”

 

He placed the baby in her arms and then supported her up the stairs to her room, turning back the bed and putting the baby down before helping her change into a clean nightgown and letting her lie down. As she settled herself in bed, he pulled his stethoscope out of his pocket, listening to the strength of the baby’s lungs and checking for any other suspicious noises. When there was none, he looked down at the baby’s mother with a smile.

 

“Do you want the ambulance?” he asked, placing the newborn in her arms. Nicole felt the baby’s pulse and looked up.

 

“Wait until Jarod gets home. He can decide. I’m okay. I think Christopher is, too.”

 

“I think Jarod will,” Mark suggested with a grin, listening to the baby’s cries fade into satisfied silence. “He’s funny like that.”

 

“Mommy?” mumbled a sleepy voice from the doorway, and Mark turned to see Charlotte, towing a blanket behind her, rubbing her eyes. Going over, he picked her up with care for the blood that still covered his clothes.

 

“Did your baby brother wake you up?” he asked, seating her on the bed.

 

“Uh huh.” Charlotte nodded drowsily. “Did he come now?”

 

“Just,” Mark checked his watch, “twenty minutes ago.”

 

“Do you want to have a look, sweetie?” Nicole asked, gently turning back the blanket as the girl nodded and leaned forward.

 

Mark left the room and walked into the room that had been set up for the expected baby, taking a diaper and a warm blanket with him when he returned to the master bedroom. Going back in, he saw that Nicole had already fallen asleep and gently took the baby out of her arms, laying him on the bed and putting on the diaper before wrapping him up warmly and then holding out a hand to Charlotte.

 

“Come on, baby. Back to bed.”

 

She clutched his hand, the blanket still trailing on the floor, as she went into her room. Mark gave her a hand back into bed and then pulled the covers up, bending over to plant a kiss on her cheek and letting her gently kiss that of her new brother.

 

“Sweet dreams,” he told her, tucking in the blankets with one hand, before leaving the room.

 

He wheeled the stroller into the kitchen and placed the baby into it, covering him with a second layer of blankets and then carrying the stained towels through to the laundry, dropping them into the washing machine and turning it on. He cleaned the kitchen of the various objects that were scattered around it, carried the cushions back into the living room and walked back to where the stroller stood.

 

Pushing it into his room, he stripped off his bloodstained shirt, replacing it with a t-shirt, and took off his pants, pulling on those he usually wore for jogging. After adding the clothes to the washing machine, he pushed the stroller back to its usual place just outside the kitchen, where he could keep an eye on it, and was about to continue preparing the meal he had planned when he heard a footstep and turned to see his boss.

 

Part 20

 

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