Chapter Thirteen

I t was half past eleven. Toby was chuckling in front of the television. Lydia looked as though she was about to drop, and Cordelia was regretting whatever life choices had led to this. She was exhausted and desperately wanted to be in bed.

“We shouldn’t let him watch TV,” Lydia said.

“Got any other ideas?” snapped Cordelia. “Maybe we could take him clubbing, or, I don’t know, perhaps there’s a death metal concert in the neighborhood?”

“No need to get snappy,” said Lydia, sniffing and sitting a bit more upright. “We should have woken him up earlier, letting him nap all that time this afternoon means that he’s not tired now.”

“Excellent, another ‘should’ statement. Very helpful, thank you.” Cordelia rubbed her eyes and then sighed. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes, I can apologize on occasion. You’re right, I snapped, and I’m sorry. This is neither of our faults, I suppose. At least the not sleeping part isn’t, the jury’s still out on whether being labeled permanent babysitters is on you.”

“I was trying to help,” Lydia said.

Cordelia glanced over. She looked tired. Her eyes had smudges underneath them and looked too big for her face. Cordelia thawed slightly. “I know you were. Despite all else, you’re clearly a good doctor. I mean, you obviously know what you’re doing, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You honestly care.”

“There’s not much point going into a caring profession if you don’t care,” pointed out Lydia as a blue dog on television got prepared for dinner. “But you’re right, I do care.” She paused. “And I’m sorry. This obviously isn’t what you wanted to do with your evening.”

“Not in the slightest, but needs must,” Cordelia said briskly. “Anyway, having Toby around puts us more on an even footing. You’re a lot less critical of me now that you’re busy scraping up ketchup.”

“I’m not critical,” said Lydia. She closed her eyes for a minute. “And I know you’re about to say something about me using the word should all the time and that you’re allergic to it or whatever. But I really don’t mean to be critical, just helpful.”

“Yeah, well, my ex was the same. Except in his case, I think he really was being critical. And then he had the audacity to run off with someone else. Oh, and to come back here the other night hoping for a place to stay while he and his new girlfriend work out some kinks in their relationship.” She hated the thought of Hunter stepping foot in the house again.

“That must have hurt.”

“It wasn’t pleasant,” Cordelia said.

“And I can understand wanting to be alone for a while after that, wanting to shut yourself off and heal. Maybe not really trusting people much.”

“Christ, now you’re a shrink too, are you?”

Lydia looked a little hurt at that. “No, once again I’m trying to be nice. Sorry for the effort.”

They both turned back to the TV and the blue dog.

“It did hurt,” Cordelia said after a couple of minutes. “It hurt because he took all the possibilities with him when he left. But then, being sad about things that didn’t happen sounds a bit stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Lydia softly. “It sounds perfectly sensible to me.”

Cordelia looked at her. “Yet you’ve never been married or anything.”

“I’ve never had time,” Lydia said. She glanced back at Cordelia. “Becoming a doctor is quite hard, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” Cordelia shifted on the couch, re-crossing her legs. “Here’s something I don’t get though. You’re good at your job, you’re personable, and yet you’re still a locum. What’s up with that? Is there something about you that I don’t know?”

“I literally met you yesterday and there are immense amounts of things about me that you don’t know.”

“So… You’re a serial killer? You faint at the sight of blood? What is it? Your fatal flaw?”

Lydia turned her eyes back to the television. “I’m not married.”

Cordelia scoffed, laughed, then slowly realized that Lydia wasn’t kidding. “What? Wait. You’re not married? What’s that got to do with anything?”

With a sigh, Lydia explained.

???

“That’s ridiculous,” Cordelia said.

“A bit,” admitted Lydia. “But then I suppose I can understand wanting to have a partner that fits in with the practice.”

“Not to the extent that they can demand you have a family or get married or whatever,” said Cordelia. “It’s an insult, is what it is. Like you couldn’t be a perfectly good doctor as a single woman. Like single women aren’t worth anything, like we’re—”

“Cordelia,” Lydia interrupted. “It’s not like that, it’s… It’s complicated.” She was strangely flattered at how seriously Cordelia was taking this, how insulted she seemed on Lydia’s behalf. Except it was on both their behalves, Cordelia was taking this personally.

Hardly surprising given how insular she wanted to make herself.

“How did they know anyway? They can’t ask questions like that during an interview. Or is it different for doctors?”

“There’s nearly always a mixer,” Lydia said. “You go up for an interview and there’s a couple of other people there too. And then the night before or the night after there’s a little social event. Maybe dinner at one of the doctor’s houses, maybe drinks somewhere. And that’s where it all comes out.”

“Huh,” Cordelia said. “That’s quite a good idea, isn’t it? Having a social element like that. Let’s you see if that man in the suit is really a racist arsehole.”

“Not sure that’s the point of it,” grinned Lydia. “But yes, you get to know people a little better. It’s a bit old-fashioned I suppose. But that’s when you turn up with your wife or husband or whatever and that’s, apparently, where I fall down.”

“It shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t. But I’m applying to work in family practices, and I can see their point. They want someone family oriented, not some young professional that might walk away at the first opportunity.”

“You wouldn’t,” Cordelia said.

The television was moving on to another episode now. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Cordelia sniffed, the light from the TV catching her hair, her face half in shadow. “Well, you just call me next time.”

“Call you?” Lydia asked. “Why would I do that?”

“I’ll be your date,” said Cordelia. “We’ll show up to that stupid mixer together and say that we live together. Which is technically true. There’s no law saying we have to be married, or that you have to start the job with the girlfriend that you interviewed with, is there?”

Lydia laughed. “No, I suppose there isn’t.”

Not for the first time she was thinking that Cordelia was a lot nicer than she wanted people to think. Even if she was kidding, it was a nice thing to say.

“I’m not kidding,” said Cordelia, like she could read Lydia’s mind. “You get an interview while you’re down here in Whitebridge and I will come to the mixer with you. Give you a sporting chance. I don’t like things I consider unfair.”

“Alright,” said Lydia. She turned to smile at Cordelia, but Cordelia was back to watching the blue dog on TV.

It was a kind thing to say, a kind thing to do. Whether or not Cordelia was serious, whether or not it actually happened.

It was particularly kind given the fact that Lydia had upended Cordelia’s life in ways that neither one of them could have suspected. And nice in other ways too. Ways that Lydia couldn’t help but think about as she looked at Cordelia’s even profile in the light from the TV.

Not that anything would ever happen, of course. Not that she would even think about mentioning the possibility to Cordelia, let alone doing something crazily unforgivable like, oh, kissing her or anything like that.

Lydia felt herself blushing in the darkness.

“Hey.”

She closed her eyes for a second, caught her breath, opened them again.

“Lydia,” whispered Cordelia. “Lydia.”

Just the sound of her name in that whisper made Lydia inexplicably warm. She gulped. Cordelia couldn’t actually read minds, could she? “Mmm?” she said.

“Look.”

Lydia looked over to where Toby was comfortably curled up on the carpet in front of the TV. “Oh, thank god.”

“You pick him up, we’ll make up a bed for him upstairs.”

“In my room,” Lydia said. “This is my responsibility.”

“Come up in about five minutes.”

Cordelia got up and left and Lydia bent down and picked Toby up. He really was a sweet child. No fussing really. He had a wide grin and hair that constantly stuck up and he smelled of milky goodness. Lydia found herself cradling him close and sniffing his hair. Wondering if she’d ever have the chance to have something like this of her own as she slowly walked up the stairs.

“Best I could do,” Cordelia said.

She’d laid down an air mattress on the floor of the spare room and covered it with bedding.

“You should remove the pillow,” Lydia said.

Cordelia bared her teeth.

“No, I mean it,” said Lydia hurriedly. “It might be a hazard for a child this young. I think they don’t use proper pillows for a while.”

“Alright, alright.” Cordelia removed the pillow and Lydia crouched down, laying Toby in the make-shift bed.

She stood up again and Cordelia stepped in, leaning over her shoulder so that they were both looking down at the sleeping infant. Lydia could feel Cordelia’s warmth, could smell her skin she was so close. And she took a hiccuping breath.

She wasn’t normally like this. She generally had a good hold on her emotions. Even when she found a woman attractive, and she was beginning to realize she definitely found Cordelia attractive.

“I’ll be off to bed then,” Cordelia whispered from behind her.

The hairs on the back of Lydia’s neck stood up. She turned around. “Were you serious?” she asked. “About the mixer thing?”

Cordelia nodded from the doorway. “Serious.”

“Just… just it’s a nice thing to offer,” Lydia said, smiling a little at her.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “If it gets you and your trouble out of my house then it’ll be worth it.” She turned and went off down the hallway.

Ah.

So that had been it then.

Cordelia wasn’t trying to help her, and wasn’t even, god forbid, in any way attracted to her. Not that Lydia had been expecting that much. But she also hadn’t seen the offer as a way to get rid of her. Which is what it obviously was.

She sighed and looked down at Toby.

She’d better get to bed.