"Don't forget I'll be working late tonight, Tim, so make sure you bring something to do after school," Patrick said over his shoulder as he hurriedly gathered his things and poured coffee into a travel mug.
"No, it's Friday Dad, I'll be spending the evening with Shelagh, remember?" Timothy responded with a mouth full of corn flakes, "she promised to come over and hang out with me tonight."
Patrick stopped abruptly. "Oh, yes, right, I'd, um, forgotten about that." All of the sudden it felt as if his fingers couldn't follow simple commands and he spilled the sugar he was dispensing into his coffee all over the counter. "Oh come on, really?" Patrick muttered to himself, "pull yourself together, Turner."
Tim dropped his bowl in the sink, the spoon clanging loudly, jolting Patrick, "What's gotten into you, Dad? We've gotta go or we're both going to be late."
Brushing the last of the crumbs into the bin, Patrick grabbed his bag and his coffee. "So, um, what do you plan to do with Shelagh this evening?" He hated the way his voice sounded like he was having to force it to be casual, which he was. He hated the thought that Tim would get too attached to a relationship already destined to fall apart. He hated the risk it posed to their professional relationship. He hated that every time he heard her name, a vision of her came to him unbidden, each time a different picture in his mind's eye - her at Granny Parker's house for tea, her laughing with Tim, her focusing intently during a difficult labor, her in those jeans that fit her so well…
"I'm not sure what we'll do, probably just doss about. It's always just fun to hang out."
Patrick hadn't been at the hospital long before he ran into Shelagh in the corridor. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her. Her hair was styled differently, though he couldn't tell if it was shorter or not, he was so used to seeing her with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He certainly noticed her lack of glasses, her blue eyes piercing right through him as he approached. "So did you switch to contacts or are you delivering babies blind today?" he joked as he approached.
Shelagh blushed, "Trixie convinced me to give the contacts a chance. Although I'm not sure Sister Evangelina was impressed with the change."
"Well, I think all the change looks lovely," he said with his signature broad smile.
"Thank you," Shelagh said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Patrick shifted the tone of the conversation, "Are you sure you're comfortable spending time with Tim this evening? You won't be too tired after your shift?"
"Oh, of course!" Shelagh perked up immediately at the mention of Timothy, "I love spending time with him. Plus, I don't have a long shift today and will have the rest of the weekend to rest." She paused before adding, "as long as I make it through my last patient, that is."
His interest was piqued and Patrick reached out to lower the chart in her arms so he could glance at the patient name typed across the top: Maeve Carter. "I don't recall meeting her before. Difficult pregnancy? Or difficult patient?"
"Actually, Maeve is quite nice - very shy, to be sure, but overall nervous about becoming a mother, especially since she's carrying twins. And her twin sister isn't helping matters in the least. Meg never leaves her side and is constantly bringing up negatives: Maeve's age, the family history of difficult deliveries, the fact that their own mother passed during childbirth, and of course everything that we're doing wrong." Patrick gave her an inquisitive look. "It seems she has little appreciation for modern medicine and technology, she'd rather place all of her faith in homeopathic medicine and essential oils."
"Page me when she begins active labor. If there is a history of difficulty, I want to be close by."
"Of course, Doctor."
It wasn't too much later that Patrick heard the page come over the intercom, informing him that his presence was requested in Labor and Delivery Room 3. As he arrived, he found the patient's twin sister, Meg Carter, arguing with Nurse Franklin about the light switch.
"I told you, all the Mummy blogs said that the fluorescent lighting in here is terrible for delivery. It needs to be turned off if we want positive vibes flowing through the room!" Meg exclaimed, as if only a total fool would think otherwise.
"And as I said before, we cannot help your sister deliver her babies if we cannot see!" Nurse Franklin switched the light back on and placed her hand over it, "If you touch this switch again you will be escorted out of the room."
"Come on, Meg, just come hold my hand!" Maeve begged through labored breaths. Meg, her pride clearly hurt, muttered something about fetching some ice chips and slinked out of the room.
Patrick knew that Nurse Franklin and Nurse Mannion had the situation under control, so he hung back simply observing until his presence in the situation became necessary. The first baby, a girl, was delivered easily and without complication. It was then that the terrible predictions Meg had made began to come to fruition, as it was discovered that the second baby was lying transverse. Dr. Turner positioned himself to help assist with the birth and he watched, almost in awe, as Nurse Mannion expertly turned the baby so that the head was in position for birth. And then came the blood - the baby would need to be delivered immediately. Dr. Turner turned to Nurse Franklin, "Let's try forceps. I'd like to avoid a C-section if at all possible."
"Of course Doctor," Nurse Franklin nodded confidently, "Maeve, sweetie, baby is having a little bit of trouble getting out, but we're going to help her along, alright? You just hold my hand and lay perfectly still until we tell you to push."
Patrick hated the pain the use of forceps caused mothers, but he knew that the risk of infection and other complications rose when they were forced to perform surgery. This second delivery was clearly agony on Maeve and he was so focused upon working quickly that he did not even notice Meg had re-entered the room, drawn there by her sister's piercing screams. In a flash, Dr. Turner found himself upon the floor, slightly dazed by what was happening. He looked up just in time to see Nurse Mannion attempting to intervene and Meg delivering a sharp slap across her cheek. Anger flared up in Patrick as he stood before Meg. "Listen carefully, Ms. Carter, your sister needs help right now and if you continue to interfere you may lose either her or the baby, perhaps both. Stay out of our way."
Nurse Franklin guided Meg over to her sister's side, "Come hold Maeve's hand, she needs your strength."
With everyone back in position, the team was soon able to help Maeve deliver the second little girl, but only a second passed before they all realized that something was terribly wrong. Nurse Mannion immediately scooped up the tiny baby and began working on getting her to begin breathing. In that moment, Maeve began hemorrhaging, eliciting fear from Meg and quick work from Nurse Franklin to gather the medicines that needed to be administered.
As Nurse Franklin scurried out of the room to get supplies for a blood transfusion, should that become necessary, there was nothing Dr. Turner could do but sit back and wait to see if the medicine would stop the bleeding. He looked back at Nurse Mannion, still massaging and rocking the newborn, now completely in awe of her. There was complete silence in the room as everyone watched and waited to see what would happen to the child and to the mother. Just as he had begun to give up hope for the baby, he heard a tiny cry and saw Shelagh's lips whisper quietly, "Praise the Lord." He let out a breath he was unaware he had been holding and noticed that Maeve had quite recovered also, almost as if the fate of her life had been tied to that of the tiny infant.
A little while later, Shelagh was surprised to see Patrick on the roof of the hospital, and even more surprised to notice that he held a cigarette in his hand. "I came up for some fresh air before I had to deal with the paperwork of Maeve's chart and changed to go home. Or, rather, to your home with Timothy."
"Well," Patrick chuckled lightly, "you've caught me catching some not so fresh air. We're like an officer and a sergeant the morning after the Somme. And that's not to say I see myself as the officer."
Shelagh stared at Patrick, trying not to look longingly at the cigarette he held in his hand. It had been quite some time since she had allowed herself a sneak of one. She knew how Sister Julienne felt about any of the nurses smoking.
As if reading her mind, Patrick turned to her and said, "I feel as though I should offer you one," clearly not expecting her to accept.
To his great shock, she replied with a sheepish grin, "Just a puff. Quickly, just a wee one." Patrick passed her the cigarette as she asked, "What are these?" She placed her lips around the spot where Patrick's had just been.
"Henleys."
"I used to love Henleys, it's what my father smoked. I used to sneak them from his desk. Thank you." She held up her hand to give the cigarette back, his hand brushing hers in the exchange. It sent a flutter through her system that she couldn't quite explain as she silently walked away.