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Unexpected Romance

Unexpected Romance

Jackie Wayne

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Claire Bishop is a single mother and a nurse. She finds herself drawn to the seemingly unkind yet intriguing John McRae, the son of a patient. Their paths cross, and an unexpected arrangement emerges, leading them on a journey of a relationship they never planned for and a surprise pregnancy. However, their contrasting values and John's playboy lifestyle threaten to tear them apart. Who knows if they will be able to find lasting love between themselves?

Chapter 1 Meeting Him

I take my time to remove the strawberry cream from my hair, the one my five-year-old son plucked me with. It's an easy explanation: Tyler doesn't want to go to school today.

It certainly does take me by surprise.

I have to wash my hair all over again, towel it to a minimally dry texture, then head back to the dining room. Tyler isn't here anymore, and he's removed his books from his backpack. Plus, the phone begins to ring the moment I stuff one of his drawing books back inside.

"Tyler? Come out, sweetheart," I shout above the ringing phone. "You know I have to go to work, right?" I add, as a matter of fact.

Sometimes, my five-year-old son can be this way. I'll have to spend one hour out of my morning shift trying to find where he's run off to hide, get him prepped up again, and put him in the car, not forgetting to lock the doors.

I pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Claire, Are you at work already?"

"How nice of you to ask, Claire, but I'm not."

"Everything alright?"

"Tyler doesn't want to go to school again."

"Oh, my. Why don't you put the little imp on the phone so I can talk to him?"

I sigh. "If only I could find where he is."

"Poor you," said Claire. "Anyways, I was hoping to ask you a favor."

I turn my head in the direction of the kitchen door when I hear a noise. "Hmm. It looks like I should be the one asking for favors right now."

"It looks like I beat you to it," says Claire.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to stand in for me for the night shift, Claire. Something has come up."

"That urgent?"

"That's urgent," replies Claire.

I thought about this for a moment. "How about we help each other?"

"I know what you are going to say, Claire. But bringing Tyler with me will seem kind of awkward."

"I can't take him to work with me, Claire, and you know that."

"I'll be meeting with pedophiles."

I laugh. "Nice try, Claire. So when do I bring him over?"

On the other end of the phone, I hear her sigh. "Don't worry. I'll come and grab the imp. I don't want you to be late twice in one day."

"Thank you, Claire. So, tell me, who exactly are you meeting with later today?"

"I don't think I can tell you that at the moment, Claire," Claire says after an abrupt pause.

"Why not?" I say.

"Because I'll tell you all about it tomorrow," she promises.

"Would you listen to how sly you try to be?" I say. "Well, I have to go now," I add, and I replace the receiver. Even if Claire had not agreed to babysit Tyler while I stood in for her, I still would not say no to her. She's been like a backbone to me ever since Tyler and I lost both a father and a husband. Sometimes, I see her as a missing rib, literally speaking.

I call out for Tyler and get no response. After two more minutes of searching, I found Tyler in my wardrobe. And he doesn't run off this time.

"Do you know what might happen if I lose my job, Tyler?" I demand as I squat and hold my son by the shoulders.

He pouts and squeezes his face. "Sorry, mom. But I don't want to go to school today."

"Well, you have made that clear, Ty," I say. "What I need you to tell me is why don't you want to go to school?"

"I get scared."

"Of what?"

"Questions."

"What kind of questions? Is it the teacher?"

Tyler shakes his head.

"Is it your head teacher?"

Another shake of his head. "The other pupils," he replies.

"Your mates? And why would their questions scare you?"

"Because they keep asking me why everyone has a dad and I don't. It is terrible. I have no answer to give."

I hug my son and tell him what a wonderful child he is. And regardless of the fact that his father left before he even came along, it shouldn't make him any more afraid. I gave him a smile. "They do not understand what it feels like, Ty. Doesn't your teacher know about this?"

Tyler shakes his head. "They don't ask when she's around."

"Of course they won't. It makes them the scared ones, not you. I should have a chat with your teacher. Make sure none of them disturbs you anymore, okay?"

A nod.

"Now, please," I say, rising. "I had to be somewhere yesterday. So we better hurry." about

On my part, I still remember Mark. There are times where I find myself doubling my workload so that my thoughts don't stray in his direction. Mark used to be there for everything, helping me with the cuisine, chores, and budgets. When he died, I had to go to therapy. We almost couldn't do without each other. He had no worries about his death, but I did. Only the doctor's words about my unborn baby made me see reasons why I shouldn't join Mark soon.

Five minutes later, I lock the door and turn the car out of the driveway. "I'll be working the night shift for Aunt Claire tonight, sweetie. But you'll be with her," I tell Tyler.

"Okay."

"She'll have company, but all you have to do is be a good kid. Can you do that, Ty?"

"Sure, mom," responds Tyler.

I drop Tyler off at school, skip the chat with his teacher, and head over to the hospital. When I walk through the front doors, the first person I see is Dr. Brooke Hepburn.

*******

The first time I met Dr. Brooke was a year ago, when some wealthy woman had him called in just to deliver her twins. I was the nurse on duty that night. By morning, before I left, one of the twin boys was dead. When I returned from my night shift, I was told Dr. Brooke had flown out of the country.

This was one year ago. But here he is again. He disappears up a flight of stairs, his eyes focused on a register in the crook of his arm.

"You're late," greeted Mrs. Pinch as I walked into the nursing station.

"Sorry about that."

"But right on time. Dr. Hepburn has a new patient. And you're coming with me."

"Is this one also wealthy?" I asked out of sheer curiosity.

"You bet your next pay," she says.

I don a lab coat over my scrubs. "What is the patient here for?"

"Heart attack," said Mrs. Pinch.

"Has the patient been given anything?" I ask.

"Digoxin," said Mrs. Pinch as I followed her out of the station. "And the patient is a he."

We headed up the same stairs I had seen Dr. Hepburn take. Mrs. Pinch pushes open a door marked PRIVATE. The patient on the bed has cords that connect him to a heart monitor, and Dr. Hepburn stands beside the bed, peering down at his patient. He doesn't look up as we enter.

"I was about to call you, Mrs. Pinch," says the doctor as he finally looks up. "I have an important patient I would like to entrust to your care."

I look at the patient. Aged, with hair already turning grey.

"This is Mr. McRae, aged sixty-five. Was brought in earlier by his only son. Heart attack. It seems that Mr. McRae here is more concerned with winning elections than sticking to a norm that wouldn't affect his blood pressure. I need the best care for this man, and that is why I have assigned you to him."

"Will you be around, doctor?" asks Mrs. Pinch.

"I'll stop by to check on him from time to time since I literally do not own an office here. Other than that, he's yours," says Dr. Hepburn, and he hands the patient's chart to Mrs. Pinch.

She looks down at it for a moment, then says, "I heard you were offered an office, doc. But you refused."

"I did, for good reasons. Is that a problem?"

"No, doctor. I was just trying to point that out."

"Maybe we can have a chat about other things later, Mrs. Pinch, but at the moment, no. I'll leave you now," says Dr. Brooke, and this is the moment he actually sees me because he nods once at me and says, "Nurse."

"Quite a man," comments Mrs. Pinch.

"Think he's still uncomfortable?"

"More... like haunted, you mean?"

"Not what I actually meant." I corrected her insinuation.

Mrs. Pinch doesn't respond at the moment. Instead, she peers at the chart and glances at the sleeping patient. "I guess we'll just have to wait for Daddy here to come around. Do you think you could keep an eye on him? I'll relieve you of other duties," adds Mrs. Pinch.

"Sure," I say, and I take a seat by the wall. "I'll just make myself comfy."

Mrs. Pinch hands the chart to me and walks out the door. I don't look inside it right away but stare out the window instead.

It takes a new disturbance to tear both my eye and mind away, in the form of a winsome man asking, "Who are you? And where is Dr. Hepburn?"

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