God Gave Me You 18
Shelagh closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh and a smile.
"And just what time do you call this, Nurse Mannion?!"
Shelagh froze as she prepared for a stern lecture, then relaxed as she recognized the voice's owner.
"Good evening, Trixie." She glanced at her watch. "It's not that late..."
"You're right, it's not. I must be confused by the fact that you've been standing outside that door for the last fifteen minutes. And you're looking rather flushed..." Trixie couldn't keep the grin off her face as she teased Shelagh.
"Doctor Turner was just saying good night." Shelagh responded, hoping Trixie couldn't see the blush creeping up her cheeks.
"Was he indeed? And will this lovely occurrence be happening again in the future?"
"I should think so...we had a very nice evening."
Trixie smiled at her, turning to walk away. "I'm glad." Stopping at the top of the stairs, she turned back and glanced over to Shelagh. "Oh, Shelagh? A tip for next time, make sure you check your compact before coming back inside."
"Why?" Shelagh asked, confused.
"Your lipstick is smudged." Trixie let out a laugh then, continuing up to her room. "I expect details once the munchkin is asleep!" Trixie called down the stairs, giggling like a schoolgirl while Shelagh went in search of her daughter.
Another loud bang sounded from the kitchen. That was the third in less than five minutes. After a couple of weeks of dinners out, Shelagh finally gave in to Patrick's invitation to let him cook dinner for her. Considering the noises she was hearing, she was starting to regret accepting.
"Are you sure I can't help you in there?" She called through the closed kitchen hatch.
"Quite positive, thank you! I've got everything under control." He called back before a rattle sounded and he not-so-subtly hissed a choice word.
Angela, who had been laying on the floor coloring, glanced up at her mother. She pointed towards the kitchen and looked at her mother with wide eyes.
"Bad word." She gasped.
Shelagh nodded at her daughter and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
"That's right, Angel. Daddy said a bad word."
Patrick leaned his head around the doorway, looking guilty and mouthing a "sorry" to a very amused Shelagh. She rolled her eyes in response and shook her head.
Angela sat up and with a flourish, lifted her paper in the air. "Done!" She stood up and toddled over to her mother, handing her the "drawing".
"Oh, my! How beautiful! Is this for me?"
"No! Sis Juyenne!" Angela responded as best she could.
Shelagh smiled. "I'm sure she'll love it, sweetheart. Do you want Mummy to hold it for you?"
Nodding, Angela sat back down before she realized she'd run out of supplies. "More!"
Shelagh looked at the table where Timothy had left a few sheets for Angela to color on before leaving for his violin lesson.
"No more, dearest. The paper is all gone."
"More. For Daddy!" She widened her eyes and started to pout as Shelagh sighed.
"Patrick? Do you have any more paper? Angela wants to color a picture for you...and she's pouting at me."
His head popped around the doorframe again, smiling at them. "Try my desk, Shelagh. There should be some in the drawer. I'd get it for you, but...oh!" He disappeared back into the kitchen and Shelagh was glad she'd had the sense to feed Angela before coming over. She only wished she'd thought to nibble something as well.
"I'll be right back. Let's see if we can find you some paper for Daddy."
Shelagh walked into the office, just off the main hallway. His desk was a mess, same as the one at his surgery. She thought about straightening up, but realized that would be pointless, even her organizational skills only stretched so far.
He said it would be in the drawer. Looking at the desk, she shook her head. There were six drawers! She didn't want to go rifling through his desk and personal items, but he had given her permission to get the paper, so she supposed she could look.
Opening each drawer quickly and purposefully, she found no paper. Finally, she reached the bottom left hand drawer, praying the paper would be in there and that she wouldn't have to face a tantrum from Angela.
Pulling it open, she found several sheets of blank paper. Thrilled at her success, she reached in to grab them but knocked the lid off a box inside the drawer. Not wanting to pry, she put the papers down and kneeled to replace the lid when an envelope caught her eye. Picking it up, her heart began to beat faster when she read the name across the front: Sister Bernadette. Touching the envelope, she realized that the box was full of them.
She was about to put the envelope back as she'd found it when she heard a voice from the doorway.
"Well, I dare say dinner may not be too terrible this evening! Did you find the-oh."
Shelagh stood quickly, facing him.
"Oh! I-I'm sorry, Patrick! I didn't mean to pry. It was an accident, I knocked the lid off the box while I was getting the paper." She began to shut the drawer when his hand stilled her.
"It's alright, Shelagh. I um, I wrote those for you." Stepping around her, he pulled out the box from the drawer and placed it on the desk. He didn't realize exactly how many letters he'd written to her until he was staring into the box. "When we were gone, whenever I had a difficult day or felt like I couldn't keep going, I wrote to you. Just thinking about you made everything better, Shelagh."
Shelagh blushed at that and moved closer to him, placing her palm on his cheek. "Thank you." Leaning up onto her tiptoes, she kissed him chastely. As Patrick tried to deepen the kiss, Shelagh pulled back.
"Now, now, Doctor Turner. May I remind you that your daughter is in the other room probably wreaking havoc and your son will be home any moment?"
Patrick sighed and nodded his head, "Fine."
Shelagh placed a quick peck on his cheek, trying to get him to smile. "Right then, I'll just get these to the young artist and make sure she hasn't redecorated your entire flat." As she walked away, Patrick looked back at the box and held the letters, placing a large rubber band around them. He took the stack and placed it on the table in the entryway as he made his way back to the kitchen.
He stopped short as he caught Shelagh staring into the pots on the stove with a quizzical look on her face. "I'm sorry, Patrick...but what exactly is this?"
"New recipe. Got it from a patient. I'm not exactly sure how it will taste, but..."
"Right then, shall I set the table?"
They moved around fluidly together, as though part of a well-oiled machine. Once the table was set, he pulled out her chair and served her a plate, waiting to see her reaction. Taking a bite, she smiled politely at him, but he could tell something was off. He took a quick bite himself and almost spit out the food into his napkin.
"This is terrible! How can you eat this?"
"I can't...I'm sorry, Patrick. You worked so terribly hard!"
"It's alright. How about the Turner Family special this evening?"
Shelagh laughed and smiled as she helped him to clear the dishes from the table. Timothy walked in and glanced at the dishes with a worried look on his face, until his father handed him money to go down to the chip shop and pick up dinner.
"I'm afraid we'll have to get going. It's getting late." Shelagh said as Angela leaned against her on the settee, eyes half closed. "Say goodnight to Timmy and Daddy, dearest."
"I have something for you before you go, Shelagh." He reached for her hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her to the hallway. Handing her the stack of letters, he spoke. "These belong to you. You should have gotten them a long time ago." She smiled at him, placing the letters into her purse, promising to read them after Angela had gotten to sleep.
Arriving in front of Nonnatus House, Shelagh reached for Patrick's hand. "Thank you for dinner, Patrick. Both of them..." She spoke softly and giggled.
"I guess you were right...I should've known." He smiled and leaned closer. "May I kiss you properly now?" Stealing a quick glance to make sure Angela was still asleep, she nodded closing her eyes and surrendering to his kiss. They broke apart a minute or so later, knowing that if they didn't, they wouldn't be able to stop.
"Goodnight, Patrick." Shelagh kissed him on the cheek as she got out to pick up Angela from the back seat and headed inside. Patrick helped her to open the door and kissed her chastely once more before muttering "Good night, Shelagh."