The Doctor's Christmas Proposal Page 12

  Mitch placed the breathing tube without difficulty, then ordered the proper ventilator settings. Once Jessica was safely breathing along with the ventilator, she stepped out to the waiting room to inform Wendy and Chad.

  “Hey, guys.” She tried to smile but her face felt as if it might crack with the effort. “Dr. Reynolds needed to give your mom a breathing tube to help her breathing. She’s doing fine,” she added quickly when their eyes widened in alarm. “And the breathing tube is going to help rest her lungs so she doesn’t have to work so hard.”

  “When she doesn’t need the tube any more, will Dr. Reynolds take it back out?” Chad asked.

  “Yes.” Dana didn’t add that the likelihood of that was slim. “He won’t keep the tube in unless she needs it.”

  “Can she still talk to us?” Wendy asked, her lower lip quivering.

  “No, honey, I’m afraid not.” Dana gathered the girl close. “But she’s awake and is ready to see you. Don’t be afraid of the ventilator—just remember that it’s helping her breathe.”

  The kids wore solemn expressions as she guided them back to Jessica’s bedside. Jessica opened her eyes to see them, but when her lips moved and she couldn’t talk, Wendy burst into tears.

  “Shh, it’s OK.” Helplessly, Dana held her close. “Your mom can still hear you.”

  “We’re here for you, Mom.” Chad stepped forward, taking his mother’s hand in his. Wendy calmed down a bit when she saw her brother’s steady attitude.

  Jessica made a gesture with her right hand and Dana quickly recognized what she meant. “Just a minute,” she promised, then dashed out of the room to get a piece of paper and a clipboard.

  When she returned, she held the clipboard up so Jessica could write. After a few minutes Dana smiled and held up the clipboard so Chad and Wendy could see.

  Jessica had drawn a large heart with the words “I love you Chad and Wendy” written in large block letters inside it. When the kids saw the note, they responded instantly to the crude form of communication.

  “We love you, too, Mommy.” Wendy brushed aside her tears. “Can I write you a note, too?”

  When Jessica nodded, Wendy took another piece of paper and proceeded to do just that. Even Chad didn’t bother to point out that Jessica didn’t need a note because she could hear them.

  After a few minutes of writing notes back and forth, Jessica looked tired, so Dana encouraged the kids to say goodbye. Then Jessica wrote one last note, but handed the clipboard to Dana.

  Please call Rick and let him know. The kids need their father.

  Dana nodded. “I will.”

  As it turned out, Rick wasn’t home so Dana left a message. Not until after Jessica’s mother had picked up the kids did she seek out Mitch.

  He was in the unit, but came over when she walked in. “Do you have a minute?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He turned and walked into the empty nurses’ lounge.

  “I wanted to apologize.” Dana couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, so she kept her gaze trained on the Christmas tree she’d decorated. “I never should have put Jessica’s life in danger.”

  “You didn’t. Dana, look at me.”

  She reluctantly raised her eyes to his.

  “You have to trust me on this. You didn’t cause Jessica’s need to be intubated. Heck, she’d been looking worse all day. In fact, I think you timed it perfectly. If you’d waited another day, it would have been too late to go to the play.”

  As nice as he was being, Dana couldn’t let herself off the hook. “How do you know the stress wasn’t too much for her?”

  “Dana, did you hear her laughing during the play?” Mitch asked. When she nodded, he continued, “Did she sound stressed?”

  “No, but dragging her outside, in the snow and cold, couldn’t have been good for her.”

  “You had her bundled up to her nose and she was outside for barely five minutes to get her into and out of the van.” Mitch reached out to capture her hands in his. “Don’t do this to yourself. You did a wonderful thing for that family, giving them a memory they can hold on to forever.”

  Dana stared at their clasped hands, blinking back tears. “She isn’t going to last much longer, is she?”

  “No. I’m afraid not.” He tugged her close and all her previous doubts evaporated as she gladly stepped into the warm circle of his arms.

  “Will she get a transplant soon?” Dana asked, even though she knew it was a stupid question. Mitch couldn’t control when organs would become available for transplant.

  “I hope so.” Mitch’s breath tickled her ear. “Ironically enough, intubating her probably moved her up the list. She has blood type A, which is common enough for her to qualify for a transplant sooner than most.”

  Dana nodded, knowing he was right. Her own problems paled in significance when she thought about Jessica and her fight for her life, so she squared her shoulders and pulled out of Mitch’s embrace.

  “Thanks, I needed a hug.” She smiled, to let him know she wasn’t attaching special significance to their brief embrace. She tugged at the collar of her turtleneck sweater. “I’d better get home so I can get some sleep. I have to work the next few days in a row.”

  Mitch nodded, then put out a hand to stop her from brushing past him. “Stay with me.”

  “What?” She couldn’t have heard him right then realized he might be afraid of talking to Jessica’s kids alone. “Don’t worry, Chad and Wendy have gone home with their grandmother.”

  “Stay,” he repeated. “I don’t think you should be alone right now.” When she raised a brow, he quickly added, “All right, I don’t want to be alone either. I want to be with you.”

  She shouldn’t. Spending more time with Mitch would only mean more heartache. But the intense expression in his eyes was enough to make her resolve waver. “I thought you were on call?”

  “I am, but I don’t need to stay here in the hospital. I thought we could go back to my place—it’s only a mile from here.” Mitch’s expression was full of hope.

  “All right.” She was surprised when the words popped out of her mouth. So much for her sense of self-preservation. “At least for a while.”

  She couldn’t stay away from him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MITCH WAS TEMPTED to pull Dana back into his arms for a quick kiss, but didn’t want her to think all he wanted was sex, although his body ached to be with her. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her he didn’t want to be alone. And with everything that had transpired during the evening, he didn’t think she should be alone either. If this really was her last day off before Christmas, he didn’t want to waste a second of the free time they’d have together.

  The fact that he’d failed in his resolve to stay away from her didn’t escape his notice.

  He strove to keep his tone light. “OK, we have two choices. We can either sit in one of the call rooms to talk, or you can let me take you back to my place. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. I have some leftover Cavatelli to share.”

  “More Italian?” She laughed. “Why not? Now that you mention it, I’m hungry, too. I was so busy making sure I had everything organized for the trip to the play that I forgot to eat.”

  “Great.” Mitch was more than a little relieved she wasn’t put off by his suggestion. He would keep things light and friendly between them if it killed him. He turned toward the door. “Are you parked in the parking garage?”

  “Yes. I’ll follow you.”

  “Sure. Unless you’d rather I gave you a lift?” Mitch was hoping she’d planned to stay late at his place, like all night.

  She hesitated. “I’d rather drive, I guess.”

  Hiding his disappointment, he nodded. “Sounds good.”

  His condo wasn’t far from the hospital, so they arrived at his place in less than ten minutes. He indicated she should park alongside him and they walked up to his door together.

  The front door opened into his living room and her gaze went str
aight to the bookcases that flanked the fireplace. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes wide. “You have so many books.”

  “Here, let me take your coat.” He shrugged out of his own first, then helped take off her long wool coat. She looked adorable, her sleek black slacks and plum turtleneck sweater emphasizing her slender frame. “I’ll be right back.”

  When he returned from stashing the coats in his closet, she was still standing before his bookcases as if star-struck. “You’re welcome to take anything you’d like to read,” he offered, pleased she shared his love for books.

  “Thanks so much.” She cocked her head and grinned. “So, you’re like a part-time librarian then?”

  “Not exactly. I’m making an exception, just for you.”

  “I’m honored.” She placed a hand over her heart and fluttered her lashes.

  With a laugh he gestured toward the fireplace. “First I’ll start a fire, then we can eat.”

  She watched as he quickly stacked the wood for a fire. The newspaper below the logs crackled as the flames caught. He glanced over his shoulder at her and the delighted expression on her face was enough to make him curl his fingers into his fists. Slow, he reminded himself. They were taking things slow. He stood and brushed the debris from his pants. “Have a seat. I’ll heat up the Cavatelli and bring it in here for us.”

  “I don’t even know what Cavatelli is, but it sounds good.” Instead of sitting down, Dana followed him into the kitchen. “Is there something I can do to help?”

  Kiss me. “Uh, no, just make yourself comfortable.” Keeping his hands occupied with food was probably a good thing, or he’d have been tempted to toss her down to the carpet in front of his fireplace and have his way with her.

  Dana helped him carry their plates to the living room so they could watch the fire as they ate. Cavatelli was his favorite food, but he could hardly taste the delicious pasta, his body was so tense with longing. From the very beginning he’d known Dana was a nurturer, but he hadn’t known how badly he’d wanted someone to nurture him.

  Not just anyone. Dana.

  He tried to keep the conversation light as they ate. But all too soon Dana glanced around the room with her brow pulled into a deep frown. “I have to admit, I’m disappointed.”

  His gut twisted. Hadn’t she liked his books? His fireplace? Him? “With what?”

  “No Christmas decorations.” She gestured toward his fireplace. “That mantle is begging for stockings to be hung by the chimney. And where is your tree? Heck, I’d settle for a wreath. The area above the fireplace is perfect for a wreath.”

  His appetite vanished and he lowered his fork to his plate. “Guilty as charged. I’ve lost interest in Christmas, I guess.”

  Her gaze dropped to her plate. She was too astute for her own good and knew he held back the truth. “I see.”

  Mitch set his half-eaten food aside, realizing he wasn’t being fair. Dana deserved the truth, but he was loath to bare the dark secrets of his past.

  Although he respected her enough to know she needed to be told. Everything. Starting with the horrible way he’d lost his son, followed by his failure as a husband.

  “That’s all right. You don’t have to explain,” Dana said in a low voice, sensing his dilemma.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, I do.”

  Dana knew she was pushing with her need to know the mysteries of his past, but she couldn’t seem to curb her desperate curiosity. The void where his holiday spirit should have been bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Granted, he’d come to the unit Christmas party, but even then they’d ditched the others a few minutes after he’d arrived.

  His words proved Christmas had once meant something to him.

  I’ve lost interest in Christmas.

  Mitch stood up, picked up their plates and carried them into the kitchen. When he came back, he added another log to the fire and took a seat beside her on the sofa, close enough to touch but keeping that inch of distance between them.

  “I was married for three years.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, but kept his gaze trained on the flames dancing along the log. “My wife wasn’t in medicine, but she seemed understanding of the demands of my career.”

  Dana nodded, waiting for him to continue.

  “We’d talked about having kids but she wanted us to wait until I’d finished my fellowship. I think she was under the impression my hours would become more reasonable then.”

  Dana winced, remembering the way their evening had been interrupted the other night. “Wrong. But if she loved you, I’m sure she understood.”

  “I was surprised and thrilled when Gwen told me she was pregnant.” Mitch stared down at his hands, as if the past was almost too difficult to talk about. “We were the closest we’d ever been during those months of her pregnancy. Our son, Jason, was born on September eighteenth.”

  At first she frowned, because he’d told her he didn’t have children, then the tortured expression in his eyes confirmed her worst fears. She reached over, took his hand in hers. His fingers were cold to the touch and she wrapped both of her hands around his, trying to infuse him with her warmth. “I bet he was adorable.”

  “He was. His smile could light up your soul.” He momentarily closed his eyes. “He died on Christmas Eve.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “No.”

  Mitch pulled his hand from hers and she could feel him emotionally pulling away, too. “Sudden infant death syndrome.”

  Dana couldn’t imagine how awful it must have been to lose a child so abruptly. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Mitch.”

  He nodded. “The worst part of all was that Gwen and I dealt with our grief in totally different ways. She threw herself into the effort to prevent SIDS. Joined the SIDS foundation, met with other parents who’d suffered similar losses. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to dwell on the disease that stole my son’s life. I buried myself in my work, which only caused a wider rift between us.”

  Her heart wept for him. How awful to lose your son and your wife at almost the same time. “You were hurting, too,” she reminded him.

  “Maybe. But so was Gwen. And I wasn’t there for her.”

  “She wasn’t there for you either.”

  He shrugged. “She found someone else through the SIDS foundation. They were married about six months ago and she’s already expecting their first child.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe she’s brave enough to try again.”

  Because he wasn’t? Dana had to bite her lip to keep from asking.

  He finally brought his gaze up to hers. “I have to be honest with you, Dana. I’d made up my mind to stay out of relationships, but it hadn’t worked. Because here I am, with you. Losing Jason felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. For months I kept thinking I could hear him crying and would wake up from a sound sleep, only to realize he was gone.”

  Oh, Mitch. “I can’t even imagine what you must have gone through,” she murmured. She’d lost her father at a young age, but to lose a baby seemed so much worse.

  “I still have some of this things, clothes, toys and a glass Christmas ornament with his name etched into it that I bought the week before he died. I haven’t been able to bring myself to give them away.”

  “You will when you’re ready.” Dana didn’t know what else to say. Jason would always be in Mitch’s heart.

  “Maybe. I know this isn’t fair, dumping all this on you, Dana, but I thought you should know the truth.”

  The bruised expression in his eyes convinced her he was truly torn between the pain of the past and the hope of the future.

  “Mitch.” Dana put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug. “I’m here because I care about you. I’m glad you told me.”

  She didn’t know what else to say. How did you help ease pain this deep? She kept her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. His story did help her to understand him a little better, but at the same ti
me she knew he was also warning her away. He wasn’t quite ready to start over again.

  She swallowed hard. His warning had come just a little too late. She already cared about him. Too much.

  “Enough rehashing the past.” He cleared his throat and stood his back stiff and straight. “Thanks for sharing dinner with me. It’s late, you probably need to get going.”

  She knew leaving would be the smart thing to do. But she couldn’t do it, even to save herself from heartache and pain. She gave him a sad smile. “Are you kicking me out, Mitch? Because I’m not in a hurry to leave.”

  Startled, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m responsible for my own emotions.” She rose to her feet and came toward him. “If you’d really rather be alone, I’ll go. All you have to do is say the word.”

  When she smoothed her hands over his chest, gently kneading his sculptured muscles beneath his sweater, he shook his head helplessly. “I can’t. Heaven help you, Dana, I’m selfish enough that I won’t ask you to leave.”

  “Good. I don’t want to go.” She pressed herself against him and tugged his head down to hers. She kissed him with all the warmth and healing she held in her heart, wanting nothing more than to help ease his pain.

  He crushed her close, hauling her up against him and angled his head, deepening the kiss. The intensity of his desire made her want more.

  The fire crackled and popped, sending a showering of sparks up the chimney. Impervious to the heat surrounding them, he lifted her up and gently set her on the sofa.

  She’d intended to heal him, to infuse him with her love, but his kisses turned edgy, intense. The same sharp passion that had almost caused her to allow him to take her on the kitchen table clutched her again.

  He drew her turtleneck sweater up and over her head and she arched her back when he lowered his mouth to her breast. Need spiraled through her and this time she prayed there wouldn’t be any interruptions. Her fingers tried to peel his sweater away, but couldn’t quite manage. He ripped the garment off, muttering, “Damn winter. Too many clothes.”