Martin muttered under his breath as he finally stepped out of the taxi and smoothed down his gray suit. He looked up to his building, yes, his home here in London, frustrated with just how long it had been since he'd last been here. James' birth seemed like ages ago; it seemed as if Martin almost couldn't remember his life without his infant son in it. Never in his plans had Martin expected to be away from London-from Louisa and James for now two months, but nothing in his bloody life was going as expected.
Martin took a deep breath of the early morning air. He'd taken the first train to London, really wanting to drive, but his car was even having issues, just another problem on the long list of them. While it wasn't exactly that early right now, he just enjoyed getting a breath of fresh air after the train ride. Ironically, though, the "fresh" London air wasn't all that fresh. It smelled of "city" smells of trash, car exhaust, and the like. Martin found himself wishing he was back in Portwenn smelling the fresh sea air, but he quickly shook that idea out of his head-a desire to ever be in Portwenn-as he was just glad to be here in London, to be home.
He collected his bags and made his way to the stairs. Martin had several bags with him, as he had plans to be here over a week. He was glad for the break from his busy practice, but at the same time, he was nervous about this interview or test run of a week. Dr. Tulle's breaking his leg had been worse than expected, which was somewhat ironic that a doctor had misjudged a doctor's leg fracture, but with all of that, Dr. Tulle had asked Martin to bump this training time. Martin could hardly object. He wanted and needed the job. It was now time for that week, and Martin hated that James was already over two months old. He hated not being there for his son, and he'd tried desperately to get back to London over the past two months.
Joan had stayed for the first three weeks, and he was forever grateful about that, even if it had meant that he'd spent those weeks in Portwenn checking on her home and animals each evening. Thankfully, she'd gotten Al to check on things each morning too. But even then, she'd had to return home to tend to her farm. That, though, had been part of the problem. Martin had tried to rework his schedule to get to London a month ago now, but Joan had fallen that week and hurt herself as well. She'd taken a tumble down the stairs and had refused to be transported to the hospital. Nothing appeared to be broken, but Martin was sure she had a concussion. She was hobbling around more and knowing that his aunt was as stubborn as a mule, he suspected she'd sprained her ankle too. She had kept him at bay with her injuries, but with the timing of things, late on a Thursday evening, the day before he was to take the train to London for the weekend, Martin had cancelled his plans again. He couldn't exactly leave his elderly aunt with a concussion and a sprained ankle to fend for herself. All of it was just stressful, and he was about at his breaking point.
Of course, now, as he stood in front of the flat, in front of the building that housed his wife and infant son, Martin almost felt the stress fading away. Joan's fall had taken her a week, if not longer, to recover, and he was just glad that it had not been worse. He had been shocked she hadn't broken ribs or other bones, and of course, Louisa had understood the change in plans. Martin just hated to disappoint her and to be away from his son too. Now, though, he was almost nervous as he approached the front door. He had only held his son for a few days after his birth, and he hadn't seen him since. What would he do with him? Would he ever know what James wanted or needed? What would he do about James crying?
It was all perplexing. It seemed easy to be a father over the Internet, to speak to Louisa and James each evening, to listen to Louisa recount James' different milestones, but now, he was here, just a door away from actually physically caring for his son.
Martin dragged his things to the door and started to pull out his key. He paused, almost feeling like a foreigner at his own home. It still was rather early, at least for Louisa. He had gotten to know her routine, and at this point of the morning, she was more than likely ready for the day, but he also didn't want to scare her. He was already surprising her, as she thought he would be on the evening train after work. Martin had Pauline cancel all of his patients for the day after his outburst two days ago. He'd hit his limit and was stressed and just in need of a break. He was tired of patients not listening to him, and Martin had blown his gasket back in his office when Mr. Smythe had been the fourth of the day to admit to not following doctor's orders. The stress of his phobia, of not seeing Louisa and James, of caring for all of Portwenn without anyone listening-he was done. Martin had flung open his door-after he'd berated patients and paced the room incessantly-and told Pauline to cancel everything for his upcoming trip.
Now, standing here, he was glad he'd done that, but he put his knuckle to the door to knock. Yes, it felt silly at his own home, but he wanted this week to start off on a good note. Surprise Louisa-yes, not terrify her at the thought of an intruder.
Martin waited, and he heard nothing. He frowned and started to dig out his key again, when he heard her sweet, sweet unmistakable voice.
"Martin?" Louisa called to him, and he spun around surprised to find her there on the sidewalk with the baby in the carriage thing. He couldn't remember exactly what it was-she'd called it a pram, maybe? His eyes widened at the sight of her, his beautiful Louisa, and he put down his bag and gave her a nod as he descended the stairs.
"Louisa," he managed to say although he was finding himself tongue-tied. The moment he stepped onto the sidewalk, Louisa flung herself at him, and that almost took his breath away.
"What a lovely surprise. Oh, Martin, I'm so glad to see you," she said quietly into his ear as the two held onto each other for dear life.
Martin reciprocated the embrace, pulling Louisa tighter to him. He didn't realize that he was inhaling her scent, getting just a wonderful reminder of Louisa, just as he'd always wanted that glimpse of her. The two stood there like that for several seconds, just relishing the moment.
"Did you forget your key?" Louisa finally said, breaking the silence. Martin, still holding her tightly, even as they stood in public, shook his head without pulling away from her.
"I didn't want to alarm you," he admitted. "I couldn't stand the thought of another day. I had Pauline cancel my appointments."
"I'm very glad you did," Louisa said, and Martin finally broke away slightly to get a look at her. He put the back of his hand to her chin and gazed into her eyes. "I've missed you, Martin. I'm very glad you are here for a week."
"Hmm, yes," he mumbled, not sure what else to say. His eyes darted, looking into hers, and he tried to convey what he could not express with his eyes. James started to make noise, and that had the two turn their attention to the little bundle in the pram.
"James has certainly missed his daddy," Louisa said with a brilliant smile. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and Martin's faced blushed as she did. With a swift motion, Louisa plopped James into his arms, and that had Martin almost terrified as he quickly found his infant son staring up at him. Martin, as he looked down at his son, almost saw the same face staring at him.
"Hmm, yes, I've been saying he looks just like his daddy," she beamed again, leaning up to kiss his other cheek. She gripped his elbow, and the two looked down at James. Martin felt his hands shake slightly.
"Ahh, Louisa," he managed to say through his nervousness, "perhaps I shouldn't be holding him."
Louisa glanced up, giving him a horrified look, "And, why not?" Louisa sparked right away. "He's your son, Martin. Who should hold him? Just me? I'm not getting a full-time nanny as you once suggested."
"No," he shook his head as he stared into his son's eyes. He held James in front of him, cupping his head, and he could feel James start to squirm. His comment had been taken slightly out of context with Louisa; he wasn't trying to push off James, but he simply felt inadequate holding him. "I'm simply afraid I will drop him. I, ahh," he fumbled, turning red as he looked to her, "I don't know how to take care of babies."
"Oh," she admitted, reaching to squeeze his arm. "Right," she tried to smile up at him. "Well, you're a doctor, Martin. Surely, James isn't the first infant you've held, yes?"
"Yes," he nodded. "I mean, that was for medical care, and I immediately gave them back to their mothers." He gestured with James, "I don't know what to do. Will he like me? How do I know what he needs or wants? I feel foolishly inadequate, and just admitting that makes me feel even worse, a total crap parent."
"You aren't a crap parent," she said in a low whisper as she leaned up to kiss his cheek in reassurance again. "You're doing just fine. Let's get inside, shall we? I think it's high time you spend some time with your son, and I'll be here to show you."
"James," he said almost sternly as he looked to his son. "I'm your father. I'm sure you don't remember me because it probably seems like I've been a crap father, but I am here for the next week. I suspect we will get to know each other."
"Martin," Louisa chuckled, and when he looked to her to see why she was laughing, she squeezed his arm and gestured to James, "He loves you and always will. You are nothing like your father and are doing a wonderful job. Let's get inside."
Hours later, Martin felt a different type of exhaustion. He'd been exhausted throughout medical school as he'd studied for hours on end. Today, though, was something all together different. He was mentally exhausted, maybe even emotionally exhausted, from spending the day getting to know James and in a way, getting to know Louisa as a mother to James. Martin hadn't disliked his day, but it had been a time of feeling highly inadequate about many things. He'd had endless questions for Louisa, and Martin rarely enjoyed asking questions, at least outside of the medical world. He'd struggled to properly feed and change James, learning about all of the rituals involved with each activity. Through it all, though, he had made progress and knew that Louisa was pleased with his effort. Martin wouldn't be around much of the days over the next week, but he had to admit that he was very glad he'd had this time today to get to know his son. James, yes, Martin was a father and had been fully indoctrinated into fatherhood today taking care of James.
Louisa had been very patient with Martin and had also been very helpful. Now, as it was getting on into the evening, Martin stepped into the kitchen and saw Louisa was finishing the dinner dishes. She'd insisted on both cooking and cleanup afterward, encouraging Martin to take care of James' needs while she took care of dinner. Louisa turned her head at he sound of Martin's footsteps.
"Is he asleep?" Louisa asked as she turned off the water and turned toward Martin.
"Yes, finally," he told her as he walked to where she was standing and turned to lean against the sink as she was doing too. The two stood there, leaning back, next to each other. "Louisa," he paused and frowned. Louisa looked up to him, awaiting his comment. "Ahh, thank you," he said with a nod. "You do a wonderful job with him. I knew you would be a wonderful mother."
Louisa's eyes teared up, and Martin panicked, wondering what he'd said to upset her. She flung her arms around him and pulled toward him, "Thank you, Martin."
"You're not upset?" Martin asked, as Louisa stepped back. She tilted her head, and he gestured to her, "You're crying."
"No, I'm not upset," she gave him a small smile. "I do love James, and I am glad we are here, with these plans," she added. "It is a lot of work each day, especially on my own, and I appreciate you seeing that. I've missed you very much."
"Yes," he nodded. "Ahh, yes, I mean, I have too." Martin's face flushed, and he quickly looked to the floor as he grunted.
"I know you've made a lot of effort today, Martin, and I know this is all out of your comfort zone. I do appreciate it all, your working so hard for us and also for you trying so hard here. I know it's not easy for you."
"Hmm, yes," he glanced to her, and she stepped closer, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her.
"I've missed you, Martin. I love that you wanted to surprise me today showing up early," she beamed as she looked to him.
He didn't say anything, but he brushed the hair from her eyes, "Hmm, yes, well, anything to get away from those idiot villagers." Louisa gave him a look, almost a warning as he spoke. He saw her glare and darted his head, looking over hers. The two were quiet for a moment. He heard her sigh in contentment, and Martin enjoyed the silence, just standing here with Louisa. She patted his arm finally and glanced to him.
"I need to pump a bottle for James before turning in," Louisa stated to him. With everything going on in their lives, Louisa was using both formula and expressed milk for James. After breaking down on the computer with Martin on several occasions, he'd told her that for her own mental health, it would be good for her to try some formula. She'd felt like a terrible mother at the idea, but Martin had explained than an infant needed a mother who was not mentally and physically exhausted. He'd done some research on it, and because he knew she didn't want to hear a medical lecture, he, for once, had refrained from one. Martin had discussed it with Chris, seeing as how Chris had a family as well and was also a physician, and Chris, during one of their working lunches, had suggested Martin encourage Louisa. Since very few people knew about Martin's personal life, he'd taken his old friend's advice to heart and had found that it had improved things with Louisa considerably. Since then, she'd seemed in better spirts, and for that he was glad.
"Err, yes," he blushed slightly at the talk. For being a physician, he still didn't particularly like discussing breastfeeding with his wife. He glanced toward Louisa who had moved back to the sink. Martin gestured, something he often did when he was slightly uncomfortable, "How's that going? I mean, is the pump working well for you?"
Louisa's expression changed, and she looked to him a bit surprised he was asking. "Well, thank you for asking, Martin. I do appreciate it. I know it's not something you enjoy discussing, even as a doctor," she told him as she finished cleaning out a bottle. "Understand that by having these bottles, you get a chance to feed James as you did today."
"Yes, yes," he nodded, glancing to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak as he looked back toward her and found her looking at him, "I, ahh, did, ahh, very much enjoy feeding James."
The smile on Louisa's face seemed to light up the room, and she nodded at him, "I'm glad to hear that. It is a very calming activity, feeding him, I mean, when I'm not sore and poked and prodded. I do enjoy it, but I hated feeling like I was some farm animal. As to your question, it is going much better, using both formula and expressed milk. I'm happier, and as you noted with James' checkup last week, he's thriving."
"Ahh, Louisa," he said and glanced at her again. He felt so awkward speaking to her, "Yes, yes, very healthy. You, too, ahh, Louisa, look like you are well, you are beautiful."
Louisa beamed again, and she turned off the water to lean over and kiss his cheek, "Just full of compliments, Martin. Thank you. I've very much missed you, and that was a very sweet thing to say even if I still have a good bit of weight I want to loose," she said as she grabbed her still visible midsection. So," she titled her head and smiled at him, "James and I are both doing very well here, just missing you. You spent time with him this evening, so might you have time to spend with me after I finish with this?" She held up the empty bottle, and Martin nodded.
"Yes, err, did you want to sit and read in the sitting room?" Martin asked, somewhat clueless. Louisa shook her head.
"No, Martin, I don't want to read at all. You check on James, and I'll be up shortly. I'm sure we can discuss this more then."
"Oh, ahh, right," Martin's face turned slightly red again. "Ahh, yes, that would be ahh, good," he said, almost a hint of a smile appearing. Louisa patted his arm and chuckled as she went about her evening ritual.
The rest of the week seemed to fly by as Martin tried his best to deal with his phobia and move toward a surgery career again. Life at home was comfortable and safe; Louisa had dinner waiting in the evenings when he would return home from a grueling day at the hospital. Little would be said at dinner; Louisa had started to learn that Martin needed that time to cool off from his day. He'd start to relax, she could see, as she would clean up dinner. Martin always offered, but James would need to be fed at that same time, so Louisa had encouraged Martin to feed James while sitting there with her as she cleaned up the kitchen area. Their little routine was enjoyable for all. After dinner was cleaned up and James fed, the three would take a small walk around the neighborhood in the evening. The late summer nights were still warm, but not stifling, and Martin always seemed to gravitate toward pushing James. During their walks, Louisa would do most of the talking. It was on Martin's final night in the city, at least for now, that he finally opened up about his week.
"My phobia hasn't gone away," Martin blurted out as they were returning from their walk. The steps to their flat were in sight, and Louisa paused to turn toward Martin. He wouldn't look at her, almost disappointed in himself. He heard Louisa sigh.
"I don't know what I can do to help you, Martin, but I would love to try anything," Louisa said with a soft smile.
"It's not your doing," he told her, blurting it instead of delivering it softly. He frowned, realizing he sounded harsh. He glanced to James as he gently pushed on the pram.
"I know that," Louisa said, biting her lip. "I just wish I could do something to help. I want to help. I know life has been stressful, and I know that I'm at least part of the cause. I just feel like if some of the stress was gone-if I was gone-"
"No," Martin said firmly, shaking his head. He locked eyes with her, "This is nothing to do with you, I mean, with anything you have done. I've had this phobia now for years. I admit that when things first went badly with us, I wanted to blame you, but this is my own doing."
"Maybe it's not," she shrugged. "From what little you've told me, but also from what your aunts have told me, Martin, many times a phobia like this is rooted in a childhood trauma. It sounds like much of this is due to the lack of love from your parents. I've seen it myself with how cold and rude they are to you, toward us."
Martin's eyes flew open, "They haven't bothered you or tried to see James, have they?"
"No, no, nothing like that," she shook her head. She reached out to touch Martin and saw him briefly flinch before he relaxed and let her hand settle on his arm. She gave him a reassuring smile as she patted his arm. "I'm just saying, Martin, that you are a remarkable man. You don't give yourself credit for being kind and caring. You had a rough childhood even if you don't see that or want to admit it. I'm saying that your phobia might stem from something deep you can't even address. You've worked on it for a long time. Do you think it's time to discuss other options?"
"Other options?" Martin raised his eyebrows. Louisa nodded.
"Perhaps you don't return to surgery. You are a brilliant GP. I still don't see why you won't consider that here, Martin. You could have a practice here, as a GP, and we would be a family again, together. I've loved every minute of this last week, our days and nights," she said with a small, encouraging smile. "We want our life here. Are you to the point you want to consider a GP spot?"
He thought for a moment, and then he opened his mouth to speak, "I am not, and I'm trying to make you understand. You love teaching. You love being the head. Would you consider just being, well, I don't know, a parent volunteer?" He looked to Louisa, and she started to open her mouth to respond. He put up his hand, "I know it's not the same comparison, but just think about that. You wouldn't settle for anything less than what you want to do. Please know I can't do the same."
"Alright," she finally said, nodding as she bit her lip, trying not to start an argument. "What is your plan then going forward? You've been here a week, and you said it isn't getting better. What does that mean?"
He sighed and nodded to her, "It means that I managed to get through most surgeries, but I still threw up each time, almost always after I left the operating room. I wasn't even the one doing the surgery, but I still couldn't handle it. I believe it's getting better, though."
"Better?" Louisa asked, making a face. "Martin, how is that better? You can't be physically ill each time you do surgery."
"It's the timing," he told her. "I believe, in time, it will go away. Earlier in the week, I couldn't get through the surgery without getting sick. By the end of the week, I could. I can't promise I will get rid of my phobia, but maybe it's a matter of learning to cope with it."
Louisa shook her head and put her hands to her face, "Oh, Martin, I do hate this for you. I wish you would consider moving here as a GP."
The two looked to each other, and Martin nodded to her, "Hmm, yes, well, I'd like you to consider moving back home."
Louisa's eyes widened, and finally, she nodded, "I see your point, Martin. If you insist on working through this, then fine. I do just hate to see you physically sick and away from us. We will miss you again, and right now, we don't even know when you will return."
"I'll do better, about coming to London," he told her as he reached over to clasp his hand over hers. He rarely did that, and with that, Louisa gave him a sad smile. "I promise. I will do better. I will speak to Chris about getting here at least once a month until I can get moved up here. I am just not sure how a job will come about yet. My status is basically a work in progress on any job."
Louisa, knowing that the last thing she wanted was another argument before he left, squeezed his hand. She nodded toward the house, just a few steps away, "Well, then, I suppose we should enjoy these last few hours before you leave for Portwenn, yes?"
"Ahh, yes," he nodded to her. "I did bring home apples and cheese for afters."
She made a face and nodded, "I'm not hungry yet, Martin, but maybe, well," she shrugged and grinned at him, "later tonight we can have those afters."