Oh, he’d told her all right. He had a daughter.
She’d not let him tell her more. She hadn’t wanted to know, because at this point, what had it mattered?
A daughter.
That seemed like a big something to have not mentioned while they’d been in Miami.
While they’d been in bed and...
She took a sip of her coffee, ignoring that the hot liquid scalded her tongue.
He hadn’t lied to her. Not exactly. He’d said he wasn’t married or involved with anyone, but he hadn’t said he didn’t have children. Not that she’d asked. Silly her. She’d add that to her list of things to know about a man before sleeping with him.
Ha. As if. Between Jonathan and Matthew, she was finished with men.
Not that she supposed Matthew’s being a father mattered for their weekend purposes. Still, a woman should know something like that about a man she spent three days having sex with.
She should also know if he was vying for her job.
“I never met Dr. Fisk, but I think it’s admirable what Matthew is doing to raise that little girl.”
Dr. Fisk. So, the girl’s mother had been a doctor. Why was Matthew raising the child on his own? Had something happened to “Dr. Fisk” or had the woman walked away?
The question of the girl’s mother had haunted Natalie for the past week, but she’d refused to talk to him further about it. She just wanted to forget Miami, to forget him.
Pain throbbed at her temple and she resisted the urge to massage the ache.
What did it matter why he was raising the girl by himself? It was nothing to do with Natalie. He was nothing to her.
Other than that he had ousted her from her dream job and she’d once spent a weekend all wrapped up in him. No big deal.
Despite the fact she’d barely touched her coffee, she poured the remainder down the sink. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to clinic. I’ve a full day ahead.”
Dr. Luiz nodded, but not before giving her a knowing look.
What he thought he knew, Natalie wasn’t sure, but she made her escape before he asked about things she didn’t want to think about, much less discuss.
In a private examination room off the Neonatal Intensive Cardiac Care Unit, Natalie ran the ultrasound wand over the tiny chest of Andrea Smith, studying the monitor as she did so.
“Shh, it’s okay,” the baby’s mother cooed, holding the six-pound baby in her arms. “Is her heart any better?”
Wishing she could offer the new mother affirmation, Natalie continued to run the wand over the baby’s chest and told her, “I’ll go over the results when I’ve finished having a look.”
The mother winced. “Sorry. I’m just so anxious to know how she is.”
Natalie glanced away from the monitor long enough to offer the woman an empathetic smile. “It’s okay. I understand. It’s just better if I finish the test, so I can give you a more complete answer.”
When done, Natalie didn’t have good news. The child would have to have surgery sooner rather than later to repair the aortic arch hypoplasia and left ventricle size deformities the child had been born with. She called the operating room scheduler and set the wheels in motion to take the child to surgery for repair.
Imagine her surprise the following morning when, after scrubbing in, she joined the rest of her surgery team and had an unexpected member with the palest blue eyes she’d ever looked into.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to stop herself. Be professional, Natalie. In front of the surgical crew wasn’t the place to air her animosity.
“Scrubbing in as second.”
“Shouldn’t you have given me a heads-up you’d be taking Dr. Bingham’s place?”
“No better way to learn how things work at Memphis Children’s than to jump right in.”