скачать книгу бесплатно
Maggie shook her head. ‘I’ve had patients tell me similar things before,’ she answered honestly. ‘Did Steven say anything to me?’
The question was out before she could wonder why she’d even asked it.
What was she hoping to hear? Did she want a message or not? Would it matter either way?
When Steven first passed away Maggie would have given anything for one more chance just to touch him, one more chance to have him hold her, one more chance to hear him whisper her name. But that had been ten years ago and she’d come to terms with her loss. Even though she hadn’t found anyone to take Steven’s place his absence was no longer a gaping hole in her life—it was just a part of her. A part of her she’d become used to living with.
So why had she asked the question?
Curiosity, she decided. That was the answer.
Juliet shook her head. ‘No, sorry, Mags.’
She shrugged; it didn’t matter. What had she expected him to say? Only what she imagined she’d want to hear. ‘Be happy. I miss you. I love you’?
Did she still love him? She loved him but she couldn’t still be in love with someone who’d been dead for ten years. That wasn’t realistic. It didn’t matter that there’d been no message. A message wouldn’t change the fact that she was a widow and her life had moved on.
She picked up the chart at the end of the bed and flicked through it, looking for a change in topic. The monitors said Juliet was fine and the charts agreed. The medical staff had checked and double-checked everything and there was nothing untoward going on. Nothing that required further discussion.
‘Morning, ladies.’
Maggie looked up from the chart at the sound of Ben’s voice. It was rich and deep and she could feel it reverberate through her body. She hurriedly replaced the chart only to realize he was focused on Juliet and apparently not at all concerned about her activities. She silently reprimanded herself for being so foolish. Just because she felt a spark of attraction didn’t mean anything. He was obviously just a man doing his job.
‘Juliet, how are you?’ he asked.
‘Great. Packed and ready to go home. Ben, this is my sister, Maggie.’
‘Yes, we met.’ He glanced in her direction before returning his attention to Juliet. His focus was definitely on his patient, and Maggie swallowed her pride. ‘How’s your chest?’
‘A bit sore but better than yesterday, and otherwise I’m fine.’
Maggie stepped away from the bed, giving Ben space to examine Juliet. She thought putting some distance between them would give her a chance to recover her nerve but all she did was stand there and study him while his attention was focused elsewhere.
His thick dark hair was cut short but it looked as though it would curl if left to grow longer. His jaw was square and firm, perfectly symmetrical. He smiled at something Juliet said and creases appeared in the corners of his eyes. He was leaning over Juliet now, checking her wounds, and his trousers moulded around his buttocks. Maggie felt herself blush and quickly moved her attention a bit higher, away from temptation. From behind him she couldn’t see his eyes but she remembered the colour—turquoise blue.
She noticed a few flecks of silver in his hair and guessed him to be in his late thirties or early forties, about her age. The silver did nothing to detract from his looks—he really was gorgeous. But, she supposed, given that he was a plastic surgeon, he should be gorgeous. She wondered if he’d had any work done.
He’d finished examining Juliet and was standing in profile now; this allowed Maggie to study his nose, which, for the record, was a perfect Roman nose, narrow and straight. He turned to face her. ‘Is something wrong?’
Had he felt her staring at him? Normally she would have blushed and looked away—normally she would be mortified to have someone catch her staring—but she found herself unable, or unwilling, to break his gaze.
‘Your nose.’
Ben reached up, rubbing his nose with one hand as if expecting to find something distasteful there. ‘Is that better?’ he asked.
‘No, no, there wasn’t anything wrong with your nose—that was what I was wondering, whether you’d had it fixed.’
‘Maggie!’ Juliet exclaimed.
‘What?’ Maggie looked at her sister, relieved to find she was actually able to break Ben’s gaze after all.
‘You can’t ask that.’
‘Why not? If I can’t ask a plastic surgeon about plastic surgery, who can I ask? Besides, you know I’ve always hated my nose so if I see a nice nose and I find out it’s been surgically assisted I might consider getting my own done.’
‘Thank you,’ Ben responded. ‘I think that was a compliment, but my nose is one hundred per cent natural, sorry.’
Maggie looked back at him. He was smiling at her, and she immediately forgot what she’d been talking about. If he was gorgeous before, he was now twice as gorgeous. His teeth were perfect, straight and white—what she always thought of as American teeth, the sort all sitcom actors had—but when he smiled she could see a streak of mischief in him that you wouldn’t have noticed at first. Not smiling, he was the epitome of a clean-cut, college-educated Aussie male, but when he smiled, she knew he wasn’t as wholesome as he first appeared. There was more to him than met the eye—he had a definite larrikin streak, which by no means diminished his appeal. If anything, it made her wonder even more about him. What was he thinking about that could make him smile like that?
His blue eyes sparkled. ‘Just out of interest, what’s wrong with your nose?’
Maggie touched the bridge of her nose. ‘I hate this bump in the middle.’
‘That’s a hard thing to guarantee to fix, you know. Think of it as giving you individuality.’ Ben delivered his verdict with a wink before turning his attention back to Juliet.
Maggie stood, stuck to the spot as strange sensations flooded through her. This man was disturbing her equilibrium in a major way.
She’d met plenty of attractive, intelligent men in her time but Ben seemed so down-to-earth, with no signs of an overinflated ego. He seemed normal, charming. Or at least he was charming her! But it didn’t seem deliberate on his part. It seemed natural. And Maggie was definitely not immune. Her mouth was dry and her hands were shaking; her pulse was racing. She put a hand to her stomach, trying to settle her nerves. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself.
‘So, can I go home? Maggie’s a nurse—I’ll be in good hands.’
Hearing her name brought her attention back to the matter at hand, getting Juliet home. She realized she’d missed most of Ben and Juliet’s conversation as she’d tried to get her wayward thoughts under control.
Ben addressed her now. ‘That’s right—you told me that the other day, didn’t you? What sort of nurse?’
‘I work in Theatre.’
‘Can you handle patients who are conscious?’ Ben’s accompanying smile made Maggie’s skin tingle. It was the strangest sensation, as if her skin had a life and mind of its own.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, smiling back at him, or at least hoping she was smiling and not grinning like a half-crazed woman.
Ben turned his focus back to Juliet. ‘In that case I’ll discharge you and see you in a fortnight. Have you got your appointment?’ Juliet nodded and Ben continued. ‘Any concerns, ring me. And remember, no heavy lifting or strenuous housework—that includes shopping for groceries and hanging up washing.’
Both sisters watched him leave the room and once he was supposedly out of earshot Juliet spoke up.
‘Told you he was fabulous, didn’t I?’
Had she? Maggie couldn’t remember. She’d be surprised if Juliet hadn’t said something—it wasn’t every day you came across someone as striking as Ben—but she could barely remember right now what her own name was let alone whether Juliet had mentioned her handsome plastic surgeon. Silently she did agree that he seemed fabulous but she wasn’t sure whether her mind was really processing things properly so she chose to keep her own counsel.
‘Pity he’s my specialist,’ Juliet continued talking, apparently unaware that Maggie hadn’t answered her.
‘You wouldn’t!’ Maggie gasped.
‘Wouldn’t what? Jump into bed with him if I got the chance?’ Juliet laughed. ‘’Course I would. I’m divorced, not dead. I’ve survived twice now, first breast cancer and then being brought back from death’s door two days ago, and I intend to make the most of being alive. Just wait until I get my new boobs—there’s more life in this old girl and I intend to enjoy some of it.’
Maggie laughed but also wondered what Juliet would say if she told her that was exactly how she felt!
Her first response hadn’t been wrong—Ben was seriously attractive, and she definitely wasn’t immune to his physical qualities. The small space of Juliet’s hospital room hadn’t been able to contain his energy and charisma, and Maggie was just as aware of his appeal today as she had been two days earlier. But, while she could appreciate Ben’s attributes, unlike Juliet, she couldn’t imagine being with him any more than she was sure he could imagine being with her.
As much as she’d consider the idea in theory she couldn’t imagine it ever eventuating in real life. What would a gorgeous, successful, charming man who, she imagined, could have any woman he wanted see in her—a skinny, forty-two-year-old widow with a flat chest and a bump in her nose!
Chapter Two
THE next fortnight passed in a blur for Maggie. Despite Juliet’s insistence that she felt one hundred per cent well Maggie knew she was still far from fully recovered. Juliet’s ex-husband was away on a training exercise with the Australian navy and being a single mother was hard enough when you were fit and healthy, let alone when you were recovering from surgery. Maggie understood that and it was why she was in Melbourne, to take some of the pressure off her sister. Juliet’s children were at school but it was their extra-curricular activities that had Maggie run off her feet, and by the time nine-year-old Kate and six-year-old Edward were in bed Maggie was looking forward to putting her feet up and enjoying a glass of wine. Maggie’s niece and nephew were a lot younger than her own children and she’d forgotten how much time got eaten up just doing the basics for a young family. She’d forgotten how exhausting it could be.
‘Here’s to tomorrow, the start of my new life.’ Juliet raised her wine glass in a toast to the future and waited for Maggie to join her. As Maggie’s glass clinked against hers Juliet went on. ‘And here’s to a fresh start for you too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve discovered there’s nothing like coming face to face with your own mortality to make one stop and assess their life. There’re still so many things I want to see and do so I’m putting the past two years behind me and putting my energy into my future.’ Juliet sipped her wine. ‘But thinking about my future got me wondering about yours too. I’ve been trying to work out where you’re headed as well.’
‘I’m not sure I’m headed anywhere.’
‘That’s my point,’ Juliet replied. ‘You should be. I think you need to take stock of your life too. I think everyone should. We should all have a five- or ten-year plan.’
‘What ten-year plan?’
‘The one we’re going to work out tonight. Your kids are adults now and they’ll be busy with their own lives. You should have a list of a thousand things you’ve always wanted to do but never had time for. Now’s your chance to start on that list—you just have to work out what to do first.’
‘I’ve been thinking about doing some courses, taking up a hobby,’ Maggie admitted.
Juliet snickered.
‘What?’ Maggie asked.
‘I was thinking more of long-term things, more about your life for the foreseeable future, not just the next few months.’
‘You asked what was on my list.’
‘Maybe I should have been more specific. Who do you want to do those things with? You’re forty-two—you could potentially live for another forty years. You’re not going to spend those years alone, are you?’
Juliet must be feeling better, Maggie decided; she was back to her bossy self! ‘You could be in the same position, you know. Merry widow, gay divorcée—either way we’re both single,’ she retorted.
‘Don’t think I haven’t thought about that,’ Juliet said. ‘Leaving Sam was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done but I haven’t accepted that I’ll never find love again. And I hate to think of you spending the rest of your life alone.’
‘I thought I could move in with you. Once your kids have flown the nest we could be two old-maid sisters living out their last days in peace and quiet,’ Maggie joked.
‘Speak for yourself—I don’t intend to spend my twilight years alone. It’s too soon for me but I think you need to start dating.’
‘I’ve been on dates.’
‘When was your last date?’ Juliet asked.
‘Just before I came down to Melbourne.’
‘How many third dates have you had?’
Maggie was silent—third dates were few and far between. Most of the time a second date was as far as things went before she decided there was no chemistry, attraction or even the possibility of intelligent conversation and called it quits.
‘Thought so,’ Juliet responded, interpreting her silence. ‘And when was the last time you had sex?’
‘I don’t remember.’
Juliet threw her hands up into the air, almost spilling her wine in the process. ‘That’s my point exactly—you should remember. It should have been recent and it should have been fantastic. You need to get out more.’
Maggie twirled her wine glass in her hands. ‘Do you want to know why I don’t date? For the first twelve months after Steven died no one knew what to do with me. I didn’t get invited anywhere. Everyone assumed I needed time to deal with my grief but what they didn’t realize was that the lack of invitations meant I had more time than I knew what to do with, more time to think about what I’d lost. When I finally got invited out again I got the feeling that half the women thought I’d be after their husbands. It made me uncomfortable. It was easier not to go to some things.’
‘Don’t you meet people at work?’
‘I don’t want to date people from work,’ Maggie replied. ‘It’s too complicated.’
‘What about people you meet through work?’
‘Like who? Patients?’ She laughed. ‘I work in Theatre, remember? I only see patients for a few minutes before they go under anaesthetic and then they’re off to Recovery before they really wake up. Not much opportunity to start chatting, other than telling them to count backwards from twenty!’ Maggie shook her head. ‘I’m not against the idea of romance or even a simple roll in the hay but in my opinion dating takes too much effort. A hobby would be much easier.’
‘Back to that!’ Juliet sighed. ‘You know you don’t necessarily have to date if all you want is a bit of romp.’
But that wasn’t really how Maggie operated. She knew she was someone who wanted the whole experience—attraction, romance, a strong connection both emotionally and physically. That was exactly why she was still on her own, why she didn’t often go on third dates. She was still waiting for the perfect man to sweep her off her feet, just as Steven had done more than twenty years ago. But was Juliet right? Was she being too fussy? Was she looking at spending the next forty years alone?
Working and being a sole parent for the past ten years had drained her, but when she thought of Juliet’s life hers seemed blessed in comparison. Juliet had been through a divorce, a malignant breast lump, chemotherapy, a double mastectomy and then a near-death experience. Just one of those things would be more than most people could cope with, Maggie thought, let alone all of them.
‘You deserve to have some fun after the past two years you’ve had,’ she said to Juliet.
‘What about you? Don’t you want to have fun?’
‘I’m happy as I am.’ Was that true? What was her definition of happy? Her own children made her happy—most of the time, she thought with a smile. Her extended family. Her work. But was that enough?
‘Don’t you think you could be happier?’ Juliet wanted to know.
Maggie shrugged. She wasn’t sure this was a conversation she wanted to have.
But Juliet wasn’t finished yet. ‘I have a suggestion for you. I know you’ve come to Melbourne to help me but you don’t need to stay home twenty-four hours a day on my account. If I can introduce you to some decent single men, would you go out on a date?’
‘Why?’
‘Because you might have fun! I’m not ready to get out and about yet but that doesn’t mean we both have to sit at home. I’m quite happy to live vicariously through you for the time being. Nobody in Melbourne knows you and your story—it’s a good chance to relax and enjoy yourself.’
‘Who are these single men you have in mind?’ Maggie wasn’t about to agree to Juliet’s plans without more information.
‘You can choose.’
‘Me?’
Juliet nodded. ‘I know a few single men. Besides, I have an ulterior motive. If I can find you someone perfect you might end up staying in Melbourne, close to me,’ she said with a grin.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Maggie said. ‘There’s always a grand plan with you!’
‘Tell me your idea of a perfect man and I’ll see what I can do,’ Juliet prompted.
