West Wing to Maternity Wing!(13)

     



 

'Amy?'

He lifted his head from her neck and pulled back, watching her in the  dim light. She looked stricken and her cheeks were tinged with pink. She  was embarrassed? Why on earth would she be … ?

Then it hit him like a blow to the head as he realised how her hands  were positioned. He lifted his finger to her pale cheek and stroked it  gently as a slow, silent tear slipped down it.

He moved forward, this time to sit alongside her at the edge of the bed and put his arm around her shoulders. She was trembling.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, 'I didn't think. I just acted on instinct.'  He pulled her closer and dropped a kiss on her head as she rested it  against his shoulder. 'But you should know, Amy, that it doesn't matter  to me.'

He could hear her breathing, ragged and uneven. So he held her closer,  wrapping both arms around her. His mind was whirling. Was this his  fault? Had he taken advantage of her?

No. He didn't think so. She'd seemed sure. Confident about what she was doing.

Her hand reached over and squeezed his. 'I wasn't thinking either. I  haven't been close to anyone since I had my surgery. I didn't know what  to expect.'

Linc stepped in front of her, cupping her face with his hands. 'I wasn't  trying to make you uncomfortable. I would never do that to you.'

She nodded. 'I know that, Linc, it's just that … I'm not comfortable with  it yet. I don't feel right. I don't feel normal.' The tears were flowing  freely down her cheeks now. She looked down her uneven frame. 'This  just doesn't feel like me.'

Her voice was shaking as she struggled to get the words out. 'And now with everything else … '

He brushed one of the tears from her cheek. 'I know this is hard. But  you're still Amy. You're still little Miss Unpredictable that I met six  years ago on the Amazon.' He pointed a finger to the centre of her  chest. 'I don't need to tell you this, but it's what's in here that  counts-not what's outside. Look how many kids we worked with on the boat  who had facial abnormalities, what did we tell them?'

She collapsed back against the bed, her head in her hands as the sobs  racked her body. 'But that's just it, Linc, I feel like such a fraud. I  said all those words to those kids. But now that it's me, I don't  believe them, I don't believe them in here.' She prodded at her heart.  'I don't want to be like this. I want to have my body back. The one I'm  comfortable in. I had my surgery planned-I even had a date set. Then  this … ' she pointed at her stomach ' … other stuff happened and everything  else had to go on hold.'

'Have you ever spoken to someone about this?' Linc's professional head  was pulling into focus. This sounded like someone who hadn't really come  to terms with what had happened yet.

And he was used to this. Used to dealing with patients and their  families. Used to seeing women who had healthy pregnancies then, for  unknown reasons, went into premature labour and often had to deal with  very sick babies with a whole range of complications. The counsellor  attached to his NICU in San Francisco was one of the most essential  members of staff. His unit couldn't function without her.

He walked over to the bathroom and grabbed some toilet tissue, handing  it to Amy and sitting back down on the bed beside her. 'I'm sure there  is someone who you will be able to talk to about this.'

Amy pushed herself up on the bed and blew her nose. 'I've tried, Linc. I  went to a local group. It was all women who had breast cancer. But I  just didn't fit in. There were some really strong personalities-some  women were really against any type of reconstructive surgery. They  thought you should embrace the fact you'd had a mastectomy and beaten  the disease.' She shook her head. 'But that just wasn't me. It wasn't  how I felt about things.'

Linc touched her arm. 'But there has to be more than one group. Maybe you could try another one, with different personalities?'

Her hands settled over her stomach and she raised her red-rimmed eyes to  meet his. 'It's more than that. When you touched me … ' Her voice faded  out.

'What? When I touched you, what?' He didn't want to push, but right now it was clear that Amy needed to talk.

She buried her head in her hands again. 'It didn't feel right. When you  used to touch me, I loved the feel of your hands on my breasts. This  time your hands came round and I expected what I used to feel. Except  this time I felt nothing. It was like a big blank. I wasn't ready for  that.'         

     



 

Lincoln bit his lip. 'Amy, the part of you that's missing is important.  You had a huge amount of nerve endings and fibres that just aren't there  any more. So it will feel different when someone touches you.'

She lifted her hand and pressed it against her absent breast. 'But I didn't know it would feel like this.'

Linc lifted his hand. A loose curl was dangling in front of her face and  he brushed it aside, tucking it behind her ear. He gave her a little  smile. 'Maybe it's time to relearn things. Maybe you just have to take  it slow.'

Amy's hands fell to her extended abdomen. 'I just feel as if there's so  much going on right now.' Her hands stroked up and down her bump. 'I  don't know if I can do all this at once. I'm so worried about the baby.  My blood pressure isn't getting any better and I'm worried about an  early delivery. David said he would review me again in the morning, but I  can already tell that the symptoms aren't getting any better.'

Lincoln tucked his arm back around her shoulders. 'Don't focus on the  bad, focus on the good. Your symptoms haven't got any worse, that's  what's most important here.'

She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder again. 'I know that,  but I still can't help worrying.' She reached over and placed her palm  on his chest. 'And it doesn't help that the best neonatologist in the  world still hasn't told me if he'll look after my baby.'

Lincoln threaded his fingers through hers. 'Amy, of course I'll look after your baby. That was never in any doubt.'

'Promise?'

'Promise.' He stood up, straightening his scrubs and bent forward,  lifting the covers and sweeping her legs back up onto the bed. He  glanced at his watch. 'Now, Ms Carson, you should be getting some rest.'  He picked up the discarded blood-pressure cuff and fastened it back  onto her arm. He raised one eyebrow at her. 'Keep it on-doctor's orders.  And I'll come back and see you in the morning while David is here.'

Then, just when it seemed he'd reverted back to doctor mode, he stopped  and looked at her. She could see the dark blue rims around his eyes. He  was watching her. And it seemed as if there were a million things going  on his brain, a million things still unsaid. 'Just tell me what you want  from me.'

She opened her mouth. She couldn't say what she wanted to. She couldn't  say that she wished she could turn back the clock six years and pick up  the phone to call him. She said the easiest thing that came to mind. 'I  need you to be my friend right now, Linc.' The air deflated from her  lungs. This was so not what she wanted to say. But anything else right  now just seemed too hard.

His lips turned upwards, but the smile was almost … disappointed. The heat  and passion that had been in his eyes earlier had vanished. Now his  eyes seemed cool, resigned to their fate. He lifted his hand and his  finger stroked the side of her cheek. 'Night-night, Amy.'

She turned on her side and snuggled under the covers. 'Night-night, Linc.'

He headed towards the door, pulling it gently shut behind him before taking a few strides down the corridor.

He stopped for a second and leaned against the concrete wall. The  coolness spread through his thin scrubs to his heated skin. What was he  doing? No-what had he just done? His brain was spinning. Should he have  professional boundaries with Amy if he was going to take care of her  baby?

Did that mean he should step away from her completely? Let some other doctor take care her and her imminent arrival?

He banged his head on the wall. Maybe that would knock some sense into  him. Ever since he'd set eyes on her again, she had been all he could  think about. Every time he was in the same room as her he just wanted to  touch her.

Now he'd just agreed to look after her baby.

But how could he have said no? How could anyone in his position have said no?

Right now Amy needed him. But not in the way he wanted. She wanted to be friends. Friends? Could he do that?

The blood was still coursing through his veins from her earlier touches.  The cool concrete wall was doing nothing to soothe the heat emanating  from his skin.

He glanced at his watch again. The one thing that Lincoln really needed  right now was a good night's sleep. A chance to clear his head and sort  out his thoughts. He glanced back towards the dim light filtering out  from under her door. But what were the chances of that?



Amy huddled under the covers as the damn cuff started to inflate again. Her body couldn't stop trembling.

She'd kissed him. She'd kissed Linc again. And it had been every bit as wonderful as she'd imagined it to be.         

     



 

She'd touched him. She'd felt the strong muscular planes of his body under her fingertips.