Dr Right For The Single Mum. Alison Roberts
in the staffroom.’
Tom’s office was down a corridor, between the staffroom and the meeting room. It was a small space, lined with crowded bookshelves and a desk piled with paperwork that took up most of the rest of the space. There was a big office chair behind the desk and two smaller chairs on the other side, which were padded but not exactly inviting. He waved a hand towards the smaller chairs.
‘Please, have a seat, Laura.’
Closing the door behind him, Tom hesitated momentarily. Putting the barrier of that large desk between them didn’t feel right but sitting close beside her on the other small chair was going too far in the other direction—as if he was planning to offer a counselling session rather than the kind of professional discussion about rosters and leave that they needed to have. He solved the issue by shoving a pile of journals to one side and hooking his leg over the corner to perch on the edge of his desk. Then he took a deeper breath.
‘So... I heard that the biopsy results were going to be available today?’
Laura nodded. ‘It’s a hepatoblastoma. They thought it might be hepatic cancer because the age range for a hepatoblastoma is usually under three but...but apparently it’s a good thing because the stats are better. The survival rate is...is around eighty-six percent.’
Tom used his nod in response as a cover to close his eyes for a moment. He could actually feel the strength that Laura was hanging onto as she spoke. This was her own child she was talking about, not a patient they had in common. How hard was it to try and focus on the positive side of the equation?
‘And the MRI showed that there’s no sign of metastatic tumours so that’s really good news, too.’ The wobble in Laura’s voice signalled how hard it was for her to keep the lid on her emotions but she clearly wanted to give him all the information she could and Tom could only silently applaud her courage.
‘Have they done the pretext staging?’ The pre-treatment extent of disease was an important part of how the team would decide to tackle Harry’s treatment.
‘It’s Stage two, but only just big enough to be in more than one section of the liver. They want to give him a few cycles of chemo to try and shrink it so that it’s only in a single sector and then they’ll be able to remove it totally with the surgery.’
‘So surgery will be at least a few weeks away, then? Or more depending on how many cycles of chemo are needed?’ Tom reached for a notepad and pulled a pen from the pocket of his scrub suit. ‘Let me make a note of how long you’ll need to be away for.’
But Laura was shaking her head this time. ‘I don’t need to be off work the whole time. They’re going to keep Harry in for a few days to see how he tolerates the first dose of the chemo but the aim after that is to keep life as normal as possible for everyone and they tell me that if Harry tolerates it well enough, there’s no reason he can’t keep going to school at the moment. Apparently most children do tolerate it well and he’s desperate to get back to school and his friends and our normal routine. Hopefully I’ll just need days off to be with him when he comes in for the infusions and I should have a calendar for that later today.’
Tom’s eyebrows rose. ‘You really want to keep working?’
‘I realise that I will need a lot more time off when it’s time for the surgery and that it could be a problem in the next few weeks if I have to cut shifts short or something to collect him from school if he gets too tired or is feeling sick, but it’s not simply a matter of what I would prefer... I have to keep working, Tom. I can’t afford not to.’
For a split second, Tom thought he had found a way to help Laura and still keep a safe distance. How easy would it be to offer to help her financially through this rough patch? Catching her gaze, however, he just as instantly dismissed the idea. He could read the look in her eyes just as easily as the kind of silent communication they could have regarding a patient. She didn’t want financial help. She was fiercely proud of her independence and she intended to cope. Alone, thank you very much.
‘We’ll work around that, then,’ he found himself saying. ‘I know I won’t be the only person in the department who wants to support you as much as possible, Laura. And... I have to say I think your attitude is...commendable.’
More like amazing, Tom thought. He’d always known that Laura was capable. One of the best nurses he’d ever worked with, in fact. He also knew she was totally reliable and trustworthy and, although he never listened to gossip, he’d picked up that she was a single mother. But he’d never put the pieces of the puzzle together, had he? He’d never wondered how she managed her life or how hard it might have been over the years. He knew virtually nothing about her private life and hadn’t wanted to know. Until now...
‘You’re facing this head-on,’ he added. ‘I really admire your determination and how positive you’re being.’
Laura looked down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. ‘It’s not the first time Harry and I have faced a challenge. He was born nearly nine weeks premature and it was a bit touch and go here and there.’ Her breath came out in a sigh. ‘Apparently a low birth weight is one of the risk factors for hepatoblastoma. I’m glad I didn’t know that at the time. I had rather a lot of other stuff to worry about.’
Tom was curious to know what that other stuff had been but stifling any questions was automatic. He hated people asking him personal questions so he’d always made a point of not intruding on the private lives of the people he worked with. Having this conversation with Laura was well out of his comfort zone and it wasn’t just the subject matter. She looked different, being in civvies rather than the scrubs he was used to seeing her in.
She actually sounded different, too. ‘I learned then that you just had to get on with it,’ she said, her voice soft enough to make Tom lift his gaze to catch hers. ‘You get to choose some of the cards you play with in the game of life but others just get dealt out, don’t they? There’s nothing you can do about that except to play the absolute best game you can. And you have to fight for the people you love. For yourself, too.’
It was impossible to look away from those warm, brown eyes. She totally believed in what she was saying. Laura McKenzie was quite prepared to fight to the death for someone she loved. There was real passion there, mixed with that courage and determination. He was seeing a whole new side to the person he was so comfortable to work with and it was more than a little disconcerting because it was making him curious. Apart from being an amazing nurse and clearly a ferociously protective single mother, just who was Laura McKenzie? No... It was none of his business, was it?
The half-smile that tugged at one corner of her mouth made it seem as if she could read his thoughts and sympathised with his small dilemma.
But she was just finishing off her surprisingly passionate little speech. ‘I guess that’s the same thing, isn’t it? If you’re fighting for yourself that means you can’t do anything other than to fight for the people you love.’
Okay... That did it. Tom had to back off fast before he got sucked into a space he had vowed never to enter again. He didn’t want to think about what it was like to live in a space where you could love other people so much they became more important than anything else in life. That space that was too dangerous because, when you lost those people, you were left with what felt like no life at all...
He had to break that eye contact. And he had to move. Making a noise that was somewhere between a sound of agreement and clearing his throat, Tom slid off the corner of his desk.
‘I’d better get back to the department.’ He opened the door and there was an instant sense of relief. Escape was within touching distance. ‘As I said, we’ll work around whatever you need. Send me a copy of the chemotherapy calendar and I’ll make sure Admin’s on board for when you’re rostered.’
Laura nodded as she got out of her chair. ‘Thank you very much.’
Her formality was just what Tom needed to make things seem a little more normal. ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he said. ‘The least we can