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“I might drop in, depending on my parents’ plans,” Del said, and then, standing on the top step while he was two below her, she gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.
Nothing demanding, nothing deep and delving at first. Just a kiss between friends. That was the way she looked at it. Although the second kiss was more. It probed, and it was a real kiss—not just a friendly one. And it went on forever, grew in intensity until she was nearly breathless. Her face blushed and her hands trembled as she tried to bid him a nonchalant goodnight, which was nearly impossible to do given her rising feelings for him. So he didn’t want a woman with a child. But she couldn’t help the way she felt when she was around him, so what was she going to do?
“See you t-tomorrow,” she stammered as her knees trembled on her way through the door.
But before she could get inside Simon gave her a long, hard kiss. This one was deep and abiding. The kind of kiss reserved for dates and special occasions. The kind that set her heart on fire.
Years ago a friend of mine decided to have a baby on her own. Her biological clock was winding down and her doctor said her baby-making days were limited.
So she went through all the testing and finally had the baby she wanted—a fine, healthy baby girl. The joy of my friend’s life. Back then it was scandalous, making that kind of decision. People talked about her, raised their eyebrows in speculation, but my friend withstood it all because she knew exactly what she was doing. And she never regretted a second of it, or the years since then. Today her daughter is on the verge of graduating at the top of her class from nursing school and she’ll be an asset to her profession.
In my story Del finds herself in much the same spot. She wants the baby but doesn’t want the man. Until she meets my hero she pictures herself in a life without a man, and she’s quite happy there. Of course she meets the right man, and life changes for her. But in the meantime she proves that a woman can do it all and have it all these days. The old conventions no longer stand.
My friend never met the man of her dreams, but she was a strong, fantastic mother and one of the best nurses I’ll ever know. All because that was what she chose for herself. So whether or not it’s a traditional life doesn’t matter. We can do it all if we have a mind to. My heroine does, and she finds just what she wants in her life. So did my friend.
Until next time, wishing you health and happiness,
DD
Starting in non-fiction, DIANNE DRAKE penned hundreds of articles and seven books under the name JJ Despain. In 2001 she began her romance-writing career with The Doctor Dilemma, published by Harlequin Duets. In 2005 Dianne’s first Medical Romance, Nurse in Recovery, was published, and with more than 20 novels to her credit she has enjoyed writing for Mills & Boon ever since.
Doctor,
Mummy…Wife?
Dianne Drake
‘A very emotional, heart-tugging story. A beautifully written book. This story brought tears to my eyes in several parts.’
—Goodreads on P.S. You’re a Daddy!
Contents
DR. DEL CARSON stumbled out of bed and groggily dragged herself into the nursery. A blue ceiling with white clouds, yellow walls with blue and white ducks and puppies greeted her as she turned on the overhead light and sighed.
“What now, sweetie?” she asked in a typically sleep-deprived thick voice as she trudged over to the crib and looked in at the six-month-old, who looked up at her and laughed at her with glee, as if he was eager to get his day started in the middle of the night. “Is it a diaper, or is this just your way of making sure your mommy doesn’t get to sleep more than an hour at a time?”
Or maybe he just had her wrapped around his little finger; since it was just the two of them, she’d spent the first six months of his life catering to his every need.
It didn’t matter, really. This was what she’d signed on for when she’d decided to become a mom, and any chance to make her baby’s life better was welcome.
Tonight Charlie was particularly restless, all bright-eyed and ready to play, but, personally, she was played out. Even though the diaper seemed clean and dry, she changed it anyway out of habit, then sat down in the Victorian rocker, the one her mother had rocked her in, rocked little Charles Edward Carson until he was ready to go back to sleep for another hour. Two if Del was lucky.
Single motherhood was difficult, and she got all the support she could want from her family and friends. Being an only child, though, she missed the camaraderie of a sister or brother to take part in Charlie’s life. He had no aunts or uncles, no cousins. Not on her side, and the father’s side didn’t matter since he was just a matchup on paper. A statistic that had struck her fancy.
It made her