Authors: Nell Dixon
Be My Hero (9 page)
She had avoided contact with children for a long time, ever since she'd realised it was unlikely that she would have any of her own. She'd been pleased when her friends had become pregnant
â
of course she hadâbut it had hurt, too. It had been easy to hide her pain by buying generous gifts for the new arrivals. She had lost touch with many of her friends as their children had grown up, only sending gifts for birthdays and Christmas.
“It's hard to tell who's enjoying that game the most,” Evan remarked as his daughter started to arrange the dolls in a circle, ready for a tea party.
Nathalie smiled at him as he cleared a space on the far end of the sofa and sat down. “I never played with dolls when I was little. With my brothers around, there was always something else to play with that looked more fun, like racing cars or bows and arrows.”
Polly gave her a pitying look. “Poor Tali. You can share my doll.” Evan grinned, and Nathalie couldn't help smiling back at Polly's generous offer.
“Don't you have a doll of your own at all?” Polly asked.
“No. Grown-ups often don't,” Nathalie explained.
“Well, when you're poorly and have to go the hospital for your operation, I'll come visit you. You can borrow one of my dolls to help you get better.” Polly concentrated on placing plastic teacups in front of her dolls.
Evan shot Nathalie a questioning look, and the colour began to rise in her cheeks. She'd forgotten she'd told Polly about her planned surgery.
“Operation? I didn't know you were ill. It's nothing serious, I hope.” He leaned forward, his face concerned.
Nathalie could feel the faint heat from his body and smelt the hint of musk from his cologne as he moved nearer. “It's not till the autumn. Women's problem.” She tore her gaze away from his and busied herself with drinking her coffee. He surely suspected there was more to know. She would have to tell him the truth, but not while his little girl was in the room. “I really should go now. I bet it's almost your bedtime.”
Polly looked disappointed. “Will you come again?”
“Maybe. Perhaps your daddy will bring you to the shop, and you can look at the pretty dresses,” Nathalie suggested as she reached for her handbag.
“Can we, Daddy?” Polly begged.
“I suppose so, as Tali's invited you. Tidy these toys away, and I'll be back in a minute.”
Polly gave her a farewell hug, then Evan escorted her to the front door, leaving his daughter in the lounge. She stepped outside.
“Thanks again.” Evan leaned on the doorframe.
“I've enjoyed it. She's a beautiful little girl.” Nathalie's pulse roared in her ears. She knew he would ask her about the child's remark.
His gaze fixed on her face. “Is it a big operation?” She knew he'd worded his question with care.
“Pretty big. It â it'll mean I can't have children.” There, she'd said it. The words were out.
Evan continued to stare at her, expression stunned.
Â
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Silence stretched between them.
Evan straightened up, no longer leaning on the doorframe. “Tali, are you okay? I mean, is it serious?” He looked bewildered.
“I'm fine. It's a condition I've had since I was a teenager. As I got older, it got worse, and I'm at the point now where a hysterectomy is my best option.” She scanned his face for his reaction. She couldn't remember ever feeling as scared as she did now, waiting for his response.
He came down the step toward her, the lines of his face harsh in the moonlight. “There's no tablets that you can take? Nothing else they can offer you?” He placed his hands on her arms and gripped her gently as if to prevent her escape.
“No. I've had all the tablets and minor surgery before. This is it now. There isn't anything else.” It felt weird to voice out loud all the things she had been hearing in her head ever since the appointment. “So, now you know. That's where I was on Wednesday morning, why I was late getting home.” She tried to school her voice so the true extent of her anguish wouldn't show.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Like I said, it started when I was in my teens, but back then everyone was optimistic. You know, try this drug or that one. Then they always dangled the carrot of a pregnancy maybe clearing things up and making me better.” Her voice trembled.
“Won't that work now?” Evan's voice sounded hopeful, and Nathalie wanted to scream with frustration and hurt. Did he think
he
could be the answer to her problems?
“The problem with this condition is that although sometimes pregnancy can cure it, it's virtually impossible to
get
pregnant when you suffer from it. It's progressed too far now.” She saw realisation dawn in his eyes and knew she'd said enough. “I have to go. I've a busy day tomorrow.”
He released her, and she walked away as fast as she could without giving him the chance to call her back. She reached the sanctuary of her car and drove off without a look back. Tears poured down her cheeks and plopped in hot, salty splodges on the steering wheel.
“Oh, I'm so stupid!” She dashed her hand across her cheeks and pulled in a deep breath of air. What else had she expected from Evan? The rather impassive reaction she'd got had been just what she'd pictured. It was all her fault for dropping such a big bombshell on him.
Nathalie pulled to a halt in front of her house. Deep down, she'd hoped for a different outcome, one where Evan had taken her in his arms and sworn he didn't care that she couldn't have children, because he would always love her no matter what.
“Stupid!” she whispered. She'd misjudged the depth of his feelings for her. When he'd talked about a dream of the future, he must have had a different picture in his mind from the one in her heart.
Even so, as she opened her front door, she hoped her phone would be ringing. That he would call her and want to comfort her and be with her. She tossed her keys onto the kitchen counter. The answerphone was silent. Only Min waited next to an empty food bowl.
Nathalie opened the cupboard to get some food for her cat. Min wrapped herself around Nathalie's ankles as she replenished the dish.
“Go on, ring me!” Nathalie muttered.
By the time she'd made and drunk a soothing cup of hot chocolate, it was clear she wasn't about to hear from him. Her heart ached as she snapped off the lights and trudged upstairs to bed with Min at her heels. “I guess I'm better off knowing he can't deal with this now, rather than further on down the line.”
The cat stayed silent.
****
“You look wrecked. Bad day?” Gemma asked. It was mid-morning, and the rush had begun to slow down.
“A bad life, more like.” Nathalie scooped up a bundle of hangers and dropped them into an empty linen basket behind the counter.
“You told Evan?” Her friend grimaced.
Nathalie pulled a cloth from under the counter and began to polish the front of a display cabinet. “Let's just say it didn't go well.”
Gemma frowned and crossed the shop floor to stand next to her. “What happened?”
“He asked a few questions. The usual â can't they cure you? Are you sure? Then he didn't really say anything else.”
“Oh.”
Nathalie looked up at the disappointed note in Gemma's voice. “Yeah. âOh' about sums it up. Still, I'm better off now, aren't I? I mean, I won't set myself up to get hurt all over again.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked.
“I'm sure.” Nathalie resumed her polishing, determined not to cry in front of her friend.
Gemma looked out of the window. “I hate to make a bad day worse, but Karen's coming.”
“It's okay. I'll deal with her.”
The shop bell jangled, and Karen breezed in. “Just thought I'd call and see how everything's going. It's the rehearsal and dinner on Wednesday, don't forget.” She pulled her planner from her bag.
Nathalie tucked her duster out of sight and steered Karen across to the counter. “Everything is in hand. Are the bridesmaids coming tomorrow for their final fitting?”
“Yes. My fitting is right before the rehearsal, isn't it?” Karen peered over Nathalie's shoulder at the shop diary.
“That's right. The seamstress will be here in case there's any last-minute adjustments.” Nathalie snapped her diary shut so Karen couldn't glean any information about the other clients.
The shop bell jangled again and a deliveryman came in with an enormous basket of dark red roses.
“Gorgeous!” Gemma and Karen exclaimed together.
“Delivery for a Miss Nathalie Mayer,” the man read from a clipboard he carried in his other hand.
“Tali, they're for you,” Gemma breathed.
“Wow, you must have an admirer.” Karen's face was alive with curiosity.
Nathalie quickly took the basket from the man. “Thank you.” She rested the flowers on the counter.
Karen and Gemma crowded around as the deliveryman left. “Open the card,” her assistant urged.
“Who are they from?” Karen asked.
Nathalie's hand trembled as she slid the small white card from the envelope, even though she already knew whom they had to be from. “Evan!” Karen announced triumphantly before Nathalie had a chance to hide the card from view.
Nathalie pushed the card into the pocket of her jacket. “Can you take these through into the back of the shop please, Gemma?”
She looked puzzled. “I'll put them in your office.”
“Just friends, hmm?” Karen queried.
“The flowers were a thank-you for something I'd given his daughter,” Nathalie fibbed. She didn't want Karen to spread her private life all over town. Unfortunately, Nathalie had a feeling it might already be too late. The other woman had drawn her own conclusions.
“Are you bringing him to my rehearsal dinner?” Karen asked.
“I told you, no. We aren't on those kinds of terms.” Nathalie flushed.
“Well, those flowers look to me like the kind a man sends to a woman when he wants to be on those sorts of terms.” Karen picked up her handbag, ready to leave. “Dark red roses? Please. Those are the flowers a woman gets the morning after a night well-spent with a man.” She nudged Nathalie's arm. “And you look as if you didn't get much sleep last night.” She swept off out of the shop.
Nathalie was left to stare after her in outraged silence. Gemma emerged from the back of the shop. “What did she say?”
“Oh, that woman! She drives me crazy!”
“What did the card say?”
Nathalie reached inside her pocket and pulled it out. Evan had written it himself â she recognised his penmanship and the distinctive fountain pen he always used. She read the message aloud. “âWe need to talk. Evan.'“
“You should call him,” Gemma advised.
The shop bell jangled again, and a woman accompanied by two excited little girls came in. Gemma went over to meet them. Nathalie stared at the card for a moment longer, then returned it to her pocket. More customers soon entered the shop. She had no choice but to put off her call till later.
Throughout the afternoon, Nathalie tried to work out what she would say to Evan when she did call him. All too soon, it was time to close. “Do you want me to stay while you lock up?” Gemma offered.
“No, it's okay. You go.”
Nathalie saw her friend out and locked the door behind her. She fingered the card in her pocket as she walked into her office. The smell of the roses met her in the doorway, rich and dark. The petals were soft and velvety under her touch as she stroked the largest flower. It reminded her of Jenni's wedding bouquet and the ridiculous superstition.
Before she could change her mind, Nathalie picked up the phone and dialled Evan's number. Voice mail. She replaced the receiver on the handset without leaving a message. She still didn't have any clear idea of what she wanted to say beyond thanking him for the bouquet.
****
Evan had switched off his mobile the minute he judged Laurel's plane to have landed. He was thankful he wouldn't need it for work over the weekend. Laurel would give him no peace if he left it on.
He wondered if Nathalie had liked her flowers. All day long he'd been kicking himself for his failure to react properly to the news about her condition. She had taken him by surprise, and by the time he'd recovered his wits, she had gone.
Polly knelt on a chair at the kitchen table with her colouring pencils. He admired her handiwork. “That's a nice drawing.” The picture was of a man and a woman holding hands, with crowns on their heads. A drawing of a little girl with yellow hair, also wearing a crown, was next to them.
“That's you and Nathalie getting married,” Polly explained. “I'm in my princess dress because I'm the bridesmaid.”
Evan swallowed. “Um... Poll, sweetheart, Nathalie and I are just friends. We aren't getting married.” Even as he said the words out loud, he knew he wanted to marry Nathalie, had always wanted to marry Nathalie. The revelation quickened his pulse as it hit home like a thunderbolt.
“I saw you kiss her. I peeped round the door when she said goodnight. That means you'll marry her,” Polly declared confidently. She began to colour in Nathalie's hair with a black fibre-tip pen.
“Poll, it's not that simple, okay?”
His daughter silenced him with a look and a shrug. At least he should be grateful that Polly didn't want him to remarry Laurel.
He toyed with the idea of calling Nathalie, but he felt the initiative needed to come from her. If he pushed too hard, he could make everything worse. He rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. The cases he dealt with in court weren't as tricky to handle as Nathalie and his feelings for her.
The house phone rang, and he rushed to answer it, hoping it would be her.
“Your cell phone is off. I've been calling ever since I arrived.”
His heart sank as his ex-wife's peevish tones hit his ear. “Hello, Laurel. Where are you?”
“I'm at this crummy country club. Thank goodness I'm only here for one night. Bring Polly over after breakfast,” she commanded.
“What time?” He knew Laurel seldom started her day early when she wasn't working. “Breakfast” could mean any time up to twelve noon.
“About ten. Is she there now? Put her on.”
Evan gritted his teeth. “Polly, Mummy's on the phone.”
Polly heaved a dramatic sigh and walked across the kitchen to take the receiver from him.
“Hello.” She listened for a while with a bored expression on her face. “We can go into town. Okay, see you tomorrow.” She hung up without handing the phone back to her father.
“Mummy's going to take us into town for shopping tomorrow,” Polly announced and went back to her drawing.
“That's nice.” Evan tried to put a positive spin on things. Polly liked to shop, and an outing in the fresh air might do her some good. The forecast for tomorrow was mild, so it shouldn't trigger her coughing. The big downside would be spending the day with Laurel.
