The Honourable Army Doc (11 page)

‘He feels right for me. I’m excited by the possibilities of being with Quinn.’ Ali tried to explain her feelings, tried to make her mother understand. But she couldn’t put her feelings into words. How could she describe the way her heart expanded in her chest when he looked at her, or how her body came to life when he touched her or how she felt as though his azure eyes could see into her soul?

‘Excited enough to cope with the fact that he’ll never be completely free? That he’ll never be completely yours?’ Malika asked.

‘I’m not waiting for him to be free,’ Ali replied. ‘I know his daughters come first but this might be my only chance of having any sort of family of my own.’ Ali was aware that the familiar ache, deep in her abdomen, had returned, but she wasn’t going to think about that now.

‘Oh, Alisha, I know, despite everything, you have a romantic view of the world. You’ve always looked at people through rose-coloured glasses but, even if it does work out, an instant family is not necessarily easier. Is that what attracts you to him?’

Ali knew this conversation was far from over. She closed the dishwasher and sat at the kitchen bench, deciding she may as well finish this discussion now. She shook her head. ‘The girls are gorgeous but they are a bonus. There was something between us from the moment we met, before I knew about his children, before I knew anything at all about him.’

‘But are you sure you’re ready for this? It seems very complicated and I expect Quinn will need a fair amount of support.’

‘He came to me tonight, didn’t he? He feels better when he’s with me.’

‘That’s partly what worries me. It’ll get worse before it gets better. Julieanne’s not even buried yet.’

‘They are divorced. Their relationship ended a long time ago. He’s ready for more.’

‘Are you certain? He’s going to have a lot to deal with. I’d be surprised if he has any idea about what he’s
going to do, about how he’s going to manage. His circumstances are going to be quite different from what they were a few months ago. Do you have the energy, the reserves to give him that support?’

Ali knew what her mother was referring to but she chose to ignore that topic of conversation. ‘I don’t know, Mum, but I guess we’ll find out. I’m not going to walk away now. Not if he needs me.’

‘And what happens when he doesn’t need your support?’ Malika asked. ‘What happens when he gets through this? What then? You need someone who can be there for you too. A relationship is about give and take. You’ve had a tumultuous year and you’re still recovering from everything that’s happened to you. I’m worried that you haven’t recovered enough to support Quinn unless there’s some give on his part too. Does he have the capacity to support you?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Darling, you had major surgery nine months ago. I know physically you are healing but your emotional reserves were exhausted. You need someone who can take care of you, who will give you the time and space to replenish your reserves. I know the surgery has left a hole in your life. I’m worried that you’re trying to fill that with Quinn and he might not be the right fit.’

‘I think he is.’ Ali was almost certain that meeting Quinn had been her destiny. ‘I think I’ve been waiting for him all my life.’

What if Quinn
was
the perfect man for her? She wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity despite her mother’s misgivings. She knew her mother only had
her happiness in mind but what if Quinn was the one person who could bring her happiness?

‘Does he know about your hysterectomy?’ her mother asked.

Ali shook her head.

Hysterectomy. How she hated that word. It was a reminder of all that had been taken from her. Yes, it had been her decision but it was the fallout from that decision she hadn’t been prepared for. The reality of life after surgery. The dissolution of her dreams.

She’d revised her dreams and she’d thought she had the perfect back-up plan but that hadn’t turned out quite the way she’d anticipated.

‘No, there hasn’t been the right time to tell him.’ She’d had a very small window of opportunity but it was hardly the sort of topic you’d bring up on the first date. Or even the second. She fiddled with some papers lying on the kitchen bench, aligning them so they lay in a neat stack as she avoided her mother’s eye. She knew what she would say.

‘What are you afraid of?’ Malika asked, right on cue. ‘If he is the right man for you, don’t you think you should tell him?’

‘Quinn has enough on his plate right now. I don’t want to burden him with my troubles.’

‘Focussing on Quinn’s problems won’t make yours go away.’

Ali knew that. The realisation that she would never bear children was still a physical ache in her belly. She could feel the empty space where her womb had been and she could feel the empty space in her heart that was
waiting to be filled by a mother’s love. She knew her mother was worried about her, that was a mother’s prerogative, but it didn’t make her right.

But being with Quinn made Ali forget about the empty spot in her heart. He filled it and her mother was wrong, he was the right fit.

‘Don’t sacrifice everything for Quinn. You did that for Scott and when you needed his support he left you, left you to deal with your loss.’

Ali couldn’t argue this point with her mother. This time she
was
right. Ali’s dreams of bearing children had been shattered and then Scott had delivered the final blow. He had left her and taken the rest of her dreams with him, her dreams of having a husband and family to call her own. Her revised dreams had included surrogacy and adoption but she had never contemplated the option of not Having a family until Scott had left her and made her wonder if she’d find anyone who could give her what she wanted. Having a family was not something she could do on her own. Not without a womb.

But she knew things could be different with Quinn.

Scott hadn’t wanted Ali badly enough. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, put her before his other dreams and desires but Quinn had dropped everything to be there for his ex-wife. To Ali, that spoke volumes about the sort of man Quinn was. He was as different a man from Scott as Ali could imagine, and she wouldn’t be told otherwise.

‘Quinn isn’t Scott.’

Julieanne was buried on a beautiful Wednesday in spring. The sky was blue and clear and the air was scented with
the perfume of flowering bulbs and fruit trees. It was a beautiful day, one Julieanne would have loved.

Quinn stood at the front of the church, his shoulders squared and his spine stiff and straight. Helen and his daughters sat to his left but he was too restless to join them. He had known this day was inevitable but he still hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Organising Julieanne’s funeral had become his responsibility. There had been no one else. He couldn’t expect Helen to handle it, that wasn’t a task for a mother, but he’d been worried about how he would manage to do all the things that were expected of him so he’d been extremely grateful to find Julieanne had left very detailed instructions with her lawyer, outlining how she wanted her funeral to be conducted. Quinn supposed that was one of only very few upsides to knowing your time was coming to an end. It had given Julieanne time to prepare.

He could have used more time to prepare. Despite the fact that Julieanne had virtually organised her own funeral, there were a lot of things that were falling to him and he didn’t feel as though he was doing a very good job. Usually he thought of himself as an organised person. Army life was routine in a lot of ways and when it wasn’t—for example, when he was on deployment—the way to cope was by being highly organised.

But at the moment there was no routine and he was finding it difficult to organise his family’s life. He realised he was really only used to organising himself. Even after the divorce and while she had been sick, Julieanne had still organised the girls and Quinn had just
fallen in with her plans. Following orders with regard to the girls had suited him but now it was up to him. Today was the last day he would be able to count on Julieanne’s help. It was time to say their final goodbyes.

The coffin was in his peripheral vision. He tried to block it out but one glimpse was enough to remind him of all his failings. As a husband and as a doctor. He should have paid more attention to her headaches. He should have insisted she see someone when they’d escalated. Although he knew that earlier intervention would not have saved her life it might have given them more time. He’d done the best he could as a husband, now he just hoped he didn’t fail as a father too. Ali had told him that Julieanne had trusted him, Julieanne had told him the same thing, but he wasn’t sure he believed them. Not yet.

He glanced to his left, down the aisle, towards the door. The church was almost full, packed mostly with people he didn’t recognise. Julieanne had asked that people wear something bright—pink, preferably, as it was her favourite colour—as she hadn’t wanted her funeral to be a sombre, sad affair, and the colourful crowd made the church resemble a hothouse of flowers.

A flash of red caught his eye. A darker, more dramatic colour, it clashed with the varying shades of rose, strawberry and fuchsia.

Ali.

Seeing her in red lifted his spirits. It reminded him of the night they’d first met, when the splash of red against the greys and blacks of the conference cocktail party had caught his eye. Even though the competing colours
were brighter today, she was still the one his eye was drawn to. She was his constant.

She made her way to a seat in a pew near the back. It was fortunate she wasn’t closer to the front, he wanted to go to her, he wanted to speak to her, to touch her, and if she’d been nearer he didn’t think he would have been able to resist. But he couldn’t push through the crowd. Even he knew that was wrong. She looked up at him just before she sat down. She smiled at him, her beautiful red mouth smiling just for him, and he immediately felt better. He would get through this.

He took his seat beside his daughters but throughout the service he could easily pick Ali out and he held onto the thought that he could catch a glimpse of her whenever he needed to. Whenever he needed to find a bit more strength he could turn his head and see her. He knew Ali thought he was strong and capable but lately he’d been gaining a lot of his strength from her. He was strong enough to cope with Julieanne’s death but he still wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to get the girls through it too. Ali had told him they would look to him for guidance, that they would draw their strength from him, but what if he wasn’t strong enough for them all. What then?

His attention was captured by a photograph of his daughters. Displayed on a screen that had dropped down at the front of the church was a slideshow of images. Pictures of Julieanne’s life. The photos were accompanied by music. Songs that Quinn assumed were some of Julieanne’s favourites. He knew her favourite colour was pink but he had no idea of her favourite songs and most of the photos were not depicting memories he had shared
with her. These were things and moments Julieanne had shared with the girls. Things he had missed out on.

How on earth was he going to fill the hole that Julieanne’s death was going to leave in his daughters’ lives?

The church had been almost full when she arrived. She recognised a lot of the people. The Hills community was a relatively small one and a lot of the faces were familiar, but they hadn’t held her attention for long. She was there for Quinn.

Ali was surprised to see him wearing his army dress uniform. She had almost forgotten about that part of his life, almost forgotten he still belonged to the army. His khaki trousers and shirt were immaculately pressed, his black shoes highly polished, and several medals adorned the left side of his chest.

She wondered what he was going to do about his job. She remembered the conversation she’d had with Julieanne, remembered that she hadn’t wanted Quinn to stay in the defence forces. Ali wondered whether Julieanne had told Quinn how she felt.

On the opposite side of the church from her, one row from the front, she noticed half a dozen other men in uniform. Strangers in uniforms. Army uniforms. She figured they must be Quinn’s friends and the thought pleased her. She wasn’t the only one here for him today.

They all stood with perfect posture in their perfectly pressed uniforms but none of them looked as good as Quinn. Ali longed to wrap herself around him, to hug him to her and support him through the day, but it wasn’t
possible. It wasn’t her place. From this distance all she could do was smile at him. He was scanning the room, nodding at people as they caught his eye. His gaze landed on her and even from the back of the church she could see his azure blue eyes brighten as their eyes met, and that was enough to lift her spirits. She could only hope it did the same for him.

As the service began he took his place at the front of the church with his family. Her gaze drifted over Beth and Eliza. They sat between Quinn and their grandmother, wearing identical pale pink dresses. They could have been flower girls at a wedding, except there was no bride or groom. She couldn’t watch the girls, those poor motherless girls, that was too sad. She returned her attention to Quinn.

He looked strong and composed but she could see the tension in his shoulders, could see the effort he was making to hold himself together. What was going through his mind? Was he lamenting wasted time? Worrying about the future? Wondering how to be both a father and a mother? She had no idea.

As the minister finished speaking Quinn turned and kissed his girls before standing. He crossed to the lectern and for the first time since the service had begun he looked out to the mass of people gathered in the pews and made eye contact.

His voice was rich and deep and he didn’t miss a beat as he spoke about Julieanne.

‘Julieanne would be smiling if she was standing where I am now. You make a colourful group and I thank you all for making the effort to wear bright colours, as
she requested. As you know, she was a people person and the two people she loved most in this world are our daughters, Beth and Eliza. She also loved a crowd and a party, especially her own, and she’d be sorry that she’s only here in spirit, but in true Julieanne style she organised everything, leaving detailed instructions for me and her mother, Helen, which we have done our best to carry out. Along with leaving that list, she also left a note that she asked me to read.’