Midwives On Call At Christmas: Midwife's Christmas Proposal. Abigail Gordon
eyes glowed with excitement and for a minute there he wanted to take her outside this building and back her up against a tree and kiss the living daylights out of her. Then she said, ‘Why don’t you jump with me? Do it spontaneously.’
He blinked. One pleasant picture replaced with another he didn’t fancy. ‘Like spontaneous combustion. One whoosh and I’m gone?’ She was dreaming. ‘Then who would do all the things I do?’
Her voice lowered and she came closer until suddenly there seemed only two of them in the room. ‘Stop thinking about everyone else for a minute. Do it for yourself. Be irresponsible for once and find out what it feels like. Change your life.’
There’s nothing wrong with my life, he thought, but he didn’t say it. Just stared into those emerald-green eyes that burned with the passion of a zealot. The woman was mad. ‘Nope. But thank you. You go ahead and have your instructions for insanity and I will arrange breakfast for afterwards when you land on the beach.’
‘They say it’s the closest you’ll ever get to flying on your own.’
‘I read that.’ He’d actually done a bit of almost-flying when he’d kissed a certain someone the other day. He was barely listening as he soaked in her features. How could he have ever thought this woman was average?
She looked at him for a moment and then leant forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. ‘Okay.’
Then she was gone, leaving an echo of her scent and the softness of her mouth that vibrated quietly in the back of his mind and all the way down to his toes. And a tiny insidious voice poked him with a thought. Imagine if it did change the way you lived. Not his work but his private life.
His lack of trust in relationships. The business of assembling scenarios so he could be sure he had all his bases covered. The worry about minutiae, like it said in the brochure. Possibly left over from the time he’d realised his own father had been totally unaware of him—when he should have checked if he had a son!
No way. He shut the thought down. Not today. But unconsciously, as he leant against the wall and watched her follow the instructions of Lawrence, her ‘chute buddy’ coach, he paid more attention as they prepared her for the way she left the aircraft and the way she had to bend her legs and point her toes as they landed.
He watched her tilt her head back, exposing her gorgeous tanned throat. Apparently that was so when you hurtled out of the plane your head didn’t slam backwards and knock out the person who was going to pull the ripcord. Good choice. Tilt head. He could just imagine her. Wished he could see her do it. He grinned and looked away. No, he didn’t. At least he was calmer than he’d thought he’d be, watching all this.
Simon glanced at the cost of the extravagant packages that could come with the jump and doubted she had enough for the whole experience to be filmed, captured in photographs as well and saved in a bound volume. He wandered discreetly over to the sales desk, enquired, and hoped like hell she wouldn’t mind if he paid for the video/album package to arrive in the mail. He ensured Lawrence switched on his high-definition camera. It was the next best thing to being a fly on the wall without having to actually be there. And she’d have a permanent memento of the event.
She hopefully wouldn’t take it up full time if she loved it. Simon found himself smiling as he drifted back to the doorway, where he leaned while he waited for her to finish her induction.
Then it was time for her to go. Go as in jump.
Tara bounced across the room with her harness all strapped between her legs and over her shoulders. Plastic wind protection goggles sat on top of her head and she radiated suppressed excitement like a beacon in a storm.
The two other people in her group seemed to radiate less exuberant anticipation. Right there with you, buddy, Simon thought with some amusement, and appreciated again that Tara did bring a sparkle into his day. As long as she didn’t want him to join her he was quite happy to stand on the sidelines and enjoy the show.
Tara barely felt her feet on the floor. She couldn’t wait for that moment when they tumbled out. She glanced back at her older instructor who carried the chute that would float them to the ground again and wanted to hug herself with excitement. Or have Simon hug her.
She glanced at Simon, who watched her with a whimsical expression on his face. It was so cool he’d come with her. Even if he didn’t want to jump, and it had been a pretty big spur-of-the-moment ask, he still looked fairly happy. She’d been a little afraid of that. That he’d radiate stress vibes and doomsday foreboding but he’d surprised her with how calmly he was taking it and how supportive he was.
She had an epiphany that maybe real men didn’t have to do crazy things to be in tune with her. Look at her last man. He’d been crazy and had turned out to be a loser of the highest order so maybe the opposite worked.
She knew for a fact that Simon was far from a loser but she also knew she wasn’t looking long term for someone like him. People like him spent their lives with prim and proper doctors’ wives, not someone who wanted to seek thrills and drift from town to town like her. People like Simon hadn’t been brought up in orphanages and foster-homes.
But you could kiss those people. The ones you weren’t going to marry. It was a shame she’d enjoyed it so much because the idea of kissing Simon again intruded at the wrong times—like that mad moment when she’d asked him to jump and then kissed him.
But she wasn’t worrying about that now and peered ahead to the tarmac where their little plane waited patiently for them. Excitement welled in her throat as they all paused at the gate and the actual jumpers farewelled their ground crew.
‘Good luck. You look beautiful.’ Simon’s words took her by surprise and she could feel the smile as it surged from somewhere in her over-excited belly.
‘Thank you. So do you.’ She grinned at him and he leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips so that she knew she’d been kissed. For the first time the ground felt a little firmer under her feet and the haze she’d been floating in sharpened to reality. Luckily, that made it even more exciting.
The next fifteen minutes was spent crammed into the plane as they climbed in a slow spiral up to fifteen thousand feet. She sat perched on the lap of her chute buddy and surprisingly time seemed to pass very quickly with the hills towards Lyrebird Lake in the distance and the white sand of the beach underneath them.
They were going to land on the beach below the lighthouse and apparently Simon would already be there with the ground crew waiting for them to land.
Her chute buddy was fun and kept saying how relaxed she looked. But this wasn’t something she was afraid of.
Finally they reached fifteen thousand feet, the roller door slid back along the roof and the cold wind rushed in.
He’d told her it was one degree outside but it would only take thirty seconds to get back to warm air, but she doubted she’d have time to feel temperatures as they hurtled through the clouds.
The boy next to her, now securely strapped to his chute buddy, cast an imploring look at the safety of the plane and then, with one wild-eyed glance at the occupants, disappeared.
‘Let’s go, Tara,’ Lawrence shouted in her ear, and he edged his bottom and Tara as well, balanced on his lap, towards the opening and swung both their legs out until their backs were to the plane. Below them the ocean and the beach curved below under the scattered clouds.
She pushed her head back into Lawrence’s shoulder and then they were out. Wind rushed past their faces, she had a brief glimpse of the plane above them in the sky and then they were facing the ground with the wind rushing into her face and her hands clenched tightly on the chest straps.
Funnily, even in that moment, she could see Simon’s face. She grinned at the image and stared out into the vacant air in front of her. ‘Woo-hoo.’
Simon had watched the plane disappear into the clouds.
Fifteen minutes later he watched the blue