Macy walked into Twain's office, feeling like she was entering the lion's den. 
'I will accompany you,' Macy dragged out.  'Separate bedrooms,' she demanded.

 'Of course,' he grinned devilishly, retrieving a box of expensive chocolates from his drawer.  He popped one into his mouth.

 Macy's eyes widened.  That was exactly the same type of box, on Parker's bedside table.

 'Want one?' He offered her the box, seeing her jaw drop.

 'It's nine thirty in the morning!'

  Twain placed the box on his desk.  It may be nine thirty.  Macy only came on duty at eight every morning.  She would not know that he'd been up since five; that he'd spent two hours in theatre before he'd gone down to her surgery to greet her this morning.  He needed an energy boost.  Swiss chocolates did it for him.  He looked up, she was still staring.  He tentatively offered her the box again.

 'I can't believe you ___ like chocolates,' she murmured.

 'What, are men not supposed to indulge in a ___ secret vice?' he laughed softly.

 They have so much in common.

 She shook her head in amazement.  'I just ___ find it hard to believe.'

 'Why?'  He grinned, getting up and walking to where she stood.

 'I guess you've figured out that Parker shares your vice.'  Macy suspected he liked having this sinful indulgence with his son.

 'It was a haunch,' he grinned smugly, casually placing his arms at her waist.

 'You better not be sneaking chocolate bars to Parker, behind my back' she warned.  'He does not know when to stop.'

 'May I have your permission to ___ moderately, exploit our joint indulgence,' he grinned mischievously.

 'Macy laughed softly.  'I think he spends half his allowance on chocolates.'

 She felt Twain's muscles tense and only then realized, her arms were circled around his waist.

 'Twain?' 

 He shifted out of her arms, turned his back on her, moved away to stare out the huge bay window in his office.  Macy followed him.

 'Twain, what's wrong?'  She whispered, gently placing her palm on his shoulder.

 He turned around, his eyes searching hers.  'All these years___ that should have been my responsibility.'

 'What are you talking about?'

 'Parker's allowance.  His school fees.  His wardrobe.  His every need.'  Twain was angry, but not at her, she knew that.

 'I managed,' she murmured.  'You did help, by getting me into Crawford,' she smiled.

 'I should buy him his own computer, I think.'

 'There's no need,' Macy shook her head.  'We do have a new one at home now.'

 'But he's my kid.  I should buy him stuff, only ___ I don't want Parker to feel, I'm buying his love, by showering him with material possessions.'

 Her affection for him grew a thousand fold right there.  'Oh Twain,' she groaned softly.   'Thank you for being that insightful.'

 He wrapped his arms around Macy again.  'I want to do right by my son,' he murmured huskily, 'but I never want to step on your toes, in the process.  I have the healthiest respect for you Macy Skye.'

 Macy laughed.  'That's the nicest thing, I heard come out of your mouth.'

'Now my mouth would like to do something else?'  His head lowered, purposefully.

 'Permission granted,' she whispered, her lips moving towards his.

 'Macy,' he crushed her in his arms.  Yet his mouth was gentle, as his lips brushed hers ever so softly, as if she was that fragile and needed to be handled with the utmost care.  He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, but her eyes were closed.  Impatient for his lips again, her mouth closed over his.  He tasted of chocolate and toffee....absolutely delicious.  After indulging in a lengthy kiss, Macy slowly drew away.  Twain smiled into her desire darkened eyes.  She smiled back.

 'Were you really going to attempt to take Parker away from me?' 

 He groaned softly, his cheeks darkening to a reddish tint. 
'No darling,' he answered truthfully, embracing her in a bear hug. 
'I would never subject you to such torture.  Call it frustration,' he attempted to put some distance between them, but Macy's arms refused to release him.  A pained looked filled his face.  'I want you and Parker in my life every day, every night,' he pleaded in an impassioned tone.  'I feel like I'm on an island, stranded,' moisture filled his eyes, 'and there is no means to get to my family ___ none whatsoever,' he murmured huskily.  'You're fighting me at every corner Macy.  Let me in ___ please,' he urged.

  So there is an endearing heart hidden somewhere in this gorgeous body. 

'Twain ___,' she whispered, her fingers reaching up to cup his face.  'Before we go away for the weekend, you need to have a chat with Parker.  I've wanted to do it, but I feel Parker needs to hear it from you.'

 'You want me to tell Parker, why I did not believe you were carrying my child ten years ago?'

 'Parker needs to know the truth.'

 Twain nodded.  'He knows about the ___ birds and the bees?'

 Macy laughed softly.  'Yes, he asked me about two years ago.'

 'And you told him?'  Twain smiled, his hands glided down the strands of her silky hair.

 'I ___ gave him a biology lesson, in layman's language,' she laughed.

 'I wish I was there,' Twain sighed disappointedly.  'What's his favourite food?'

 'Fried chicken,' Macy smiled.

 'And he loves cricket,' Twain returned her smile.

 'And fast cars,' Macy added.

 'And chocolate, I've discovered.'

 Macy's arms circled his neck.  'In some instances, the apple did not fall too far from the tree,' she whispered, her lips reaching for his.

 Twain took over, his mouth devouring hers hungrily.  His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer against his body.  He wanted her so much, it ached, but he would have to wait.  He could not leave the hospital for the next six hours.

 'Macy?'

 'Yes?'

 'May we ___ pick Parker up from school today?'

 'Sure,' she smiled.  'I'll call mum and let her know.'

 'Your mum picks Parker up every day?'

 Macy nodded.  'Most afternoons, unless, Parker needs something from the mall, or if I need to go shopping, he enjoys going to the supermarket,' she laughed.

Twain smiled.  'Is two o' clock okay?'

 'Perfect,' she agreed.

 'Thank you Macy,' his eyes locked with hers, their heads moved simultaneously, their lips locking ravenously in a passionate embrace.  Macy groaned softly, when their tongues entwined in an erotic duel.  She pressed into him, pulling his head closer, wanting more...

 'Dr. Crawford ___.'

 Macy pulled away.  Twain took a second to regain his equilibrium.  She felt so right in his arms.  It felt so right for them to be together.

 'I'm sorry.' Carla was taken aback.   'You have a 'code team' in high care,' she informed Twain in an urgent tone.

 'I'm sorry,' Twain whispered.  He kissed her on the lips, grabbed his stethoscope and dashed out.

 Macy wanted to say, "It's okay."  But Twain had sprinted out already.  She knew the code.  It was life-threatening.  It referred to cardiopulmonary arrest.  The cardio team needed to immediately begin resuscitative efforts on a patient in a critical condition.

 Carla glared at Macy. 'Don't get too comfortable,' she sneered.  'You're not the only female knocking on Dr. Crawford's door and none of you last longer than a week.'  She gave Macy the cold shoulder before she huffed out as well.

 Macy silently counted to ten, before she left Twain's office.  She went to her surgery and as if going on a school field trip, she excitedly looked forward to two o' clock.  Every thirty minutes, she kept checking her wrist watch, and doing a silent count down.

At two o' clock Macy waited in the car park for Twain, when she saw no sign of him, she disappointedly got into her own car.  Just as Macy turned on the ignition, Twain opened the passenger door and slid in.

 'Hi,' she greeted, uncomfortably.  He looked so huge in her car, overpowering actually.

 'Sorry to keep you waiting,' he smiled.  'I went to your surgery.'

 Macy had not wanted everybody seeing her and Twain walking out, not when the rumour mill was still pumping about her short-lived affair with him.

 'Sorry,' she apologized as well.  'We didn't actually communicate where we'd meet.'

 'For future reference, I collect you at your surgery,' he snapped on his safety belt.

 'Yes sir,' she mumbled.

 Twain laughed.  She smiled.

 'Your mum visited me yesterday.'

 'Mum?' He looked surprised.  'She didn't come visit me!'

 'Guess she was visiting me,' Macy eased into the afternoon traffic.

 'I'm surprised.  Why was she visiting you?'

 Macy looked across at Twain.  The surprise was still evident on his face.  'She wants me to marry you.'

 'I don't believe her!'

 Macy raised her eyebrows.

 Twain's eyes speared Macy.  'I do want you to be my wife, but my mother does not need to do my bidding.'

 'She wants to meet Parker,' Macy spoke softly.

 'Are you okay with that?'

 'If Parker does not make a fuss, I'm fine with it,' she agreed.

 'Thank you,' Twain exhaled a sigh of relief.  'My dad is impatient to meet Parker as well.'

 'I'm ___sorry, I didn't introduce Parker to them, when he was born,' she murmured.

 'Why didn't you?' he was curious.

 Macy shrugged, 'I didn't want my baby ___ our baby, to be a tool,' she looked across at Twain, as she halted at the robot.  'I suspected they would compel you to ___ do the honourable thing.  I didn't want that, not when you were not ready.'  She wanted to add "to accept your responsibility," but she held back.  She didn't want any tension between them now that they were on their way to pick Parker up.  He seemed in a good mood, she wanted it to stay that way.

 Macy heard Twain inhale heavily, as if he was reflecting on the past.  Was he chastising himself, because he had not believed her?  Was he regretting that he'd missed nine years of his son's life?  Was he regretting that his parents had been robbed of the formative years of their grandson?

 'I'm sorry Twain,' she reached out, her hand touching his.

 He smiled.  His hand closing over hers, 'me too,' he murmured.

Macy needed both her hands to turn into the school yard.  She indicated her intention, and carefully steered the car, through the security access point.

 'There's no parking!' Macy groaned, circling the school car park and not find an empty bay.

 'You go in and collect Parker, I'll find a spot.'

 'You sure?' 

 'It's quicker this way,' he hopped out quickly, went around the driver's side to help Macy out.

 'See you just now,' she murmured.  'Umm ___ shall I adjust the seat for you?'

 Twain laughed.   'I got it Macy, go on,' he waved her off and got into the driver's seat.

 Macy smiled as she walked away, he looked like a giant in her tiny car. 

Adorable...cuddly giant.

 'What is he doing here?' Parker questioned his mother, seeing Twain's huge frame in the driver's seat.

 Macy smiled.  'Twain wants to have some milkshakes.'

 Parker rolled his eyes.  'Am I going to get a lecture?'

 Macy laughed as they approached the car.  'No and be nice, sweetheart, please.'

 Parker looked up at his mother.  She was laughing.  She looked happy.  She did not seem to be afraid of her boss anymore ...

Twain ...my father. 

Infact his mum looked very relaxed and at ease. 

Good, if mum is happy, then I am happy.

When Parker opened the door, Twain had the radio on; tuned to the cricket commentary.

Twain quickly turned down the volume.  Parker slid into the back seat, catching the commentary before Twain lowered the volume.

 'Are we batting first?'  Parker asked excitedly.

Twain was surprised that Parker was interested.  He was about to respond when Macy cleared her throat.  Parker looked at his mum and remembered his manners.

 'Good afternoon  ___Twain,'

'Afternoon Parker,' Twain smiled widely.
 
Macy got into the passenger seat, leaving the driving duty to Twain.'

'You into cricket?'  Twain smiled at Parker, as he slowly exited the school premises.
Parker nodded, rattling of his favourite domestic franchise.  Macy slowly exhaled her breath, liking that they were able to have a conversation about something so spontaneously.  She was happy, very happy.  Macy listened as Parker and Twain debated about who the best players in the world were.  She never even heard of some of the names.  How would she, she did not understand a single thing about cricket.

 Macy listened to her son enthusiastically argue stats on who the best players in the world were.  When Macy heard Twain ask Parker who he thought was the best striker in the world.  She was confused.  Feeling left out, she jumped into the conversation.

 'Excuse me.  I though you have batters and bowlers in cricket?'

 Parker rolled his eyes melodramatically.  'Women,' he murmured under his breath, but his mum heard and so did Twain, who hid a smirk.'

 'Hey, that's not fair!' Macy narrowed her eyes at Parker.

 Parker leaned forward in his seat at the back.  'Mum, the batsman batting is the striker!  His partner on the opposite side of him is called the non-striker ___ simple!'

 'Right,' she bit on her lower lip, looking at Twain. 

 Twain steered the conversation from cricket to rugby.   They seemed to both have a healthy respect for a certain other nation, in the southern hemisphere, but both were undoubtedly proudly South African where allegiance was concerned.

'Shall we go to Milky Lane?'  Twain asked Macy, driving into the Sandton City shopping Centre.

 'Yes please,' Parker answered for his mother and when both adults looked at each other, he added, 'if it's okay with mum.'

 Macy shrugged and nodded as if she did not mind.

 When their orders were taken, Twain asked the waiter for an empty glass.  They chatted for a few minutes about trivial, safe topics, before Twain broached the subject Macy had requested him to speak about.

'Parker there is something I wish to offer an explanation about,' Twain's eyes remained focused on Parker's face.  'It may help you understand ___ my absence from your life,' Twain's tone was somber, filled with self-recrimination.

Twain patiently explained to Parker about his motor cycle accident at age sixteen.  Macy saw Parker's face reflect compassion for the accident.  Twain continued talking, explaining about his hospitalization and the medical diagnosis he was given.

 'Why didn't you get a second opinion?'  Parker questioned, as their refreshments were served.

 Twain masked his surprise. 
You think I did not? 
Twain tried hard not to become emotional.

 Macy held her breath.  She wanted to reach out and touch Twain's hand comfortingly, but he seemed to have shut himself up into a quiet place.  He had not only got a second opinion, but he'd tested himself religiously by different surgeons for five consecutive years, and nothing had altered medically and then he'd stopped going for the tests.  A miracle must have happened after that.  Twain waited until the waiter left.

 'Try some of this cool drink,' Twain passed the empty glass to Parker.

 Parker chuckled, he looked at Twain quizzically, but Macy understood where Twain was going with it.

 'But the glass is empty!'  Parker informed Twain.

'You don't believe there is some liquid in there?'  Twain questioned, in a strained voice.

 'No.  Can't you see; it's empty?'  Parker lifted the glass up, so Twain could have a better view.

'That's exactly how I viewed my medical scans after my accident and surgery,' Twain spoke softly.  'I believed what I saw with my eyes, that it was impossible for me to father a child, so when mum told me you were my child, I could not believe it was possible.  I kept seeing those scans and they're supposed to tell the truth.'

Twain left out the bit about his accusations that maybe Macy had slept with another man, whether to spare her or spare his son, she was not sure, but she admired his diplomacy.  Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about, she'd only ever had the one lover in her entire life, and he was sitting across from her, right now.

Parker was quiet, absorbing what Twain had just illustrated.  Macy put her arm around Parker, supportively.

 'As you know, I was out of the country, offering my medical skills in the war torn areas of Sudan.  I wanted to return home after two years, it had been my initial plan,' his lips pursed thoughtfully.  'The United Nations, the organization I was working with, pleaded with me to stay and every year the casualties grew, the victims ___ child soldiers many of them around your age, Parker, ' Twain paused, catching his breath.  'I just could not walk away from the debilitating need there,' his voice dropped.

Macy had not known all the intricate details about the U.N. organization being instrumental in keeping him there. 

'So they released you then?'  Parker questioned, still displaying an inordinate amount of reservations. 

Macy almost felt sorry for Twain, but Parker needed total disclosure here. She could understand a son's doubts about a father just being absent for ten whole years.

'Four years ago, I started training six local doctors,' Twain smiled.  'Last year, the international medical fraternity working there agreed the local medical practitioners were sufficiently skilled, for a gradual withdrawal by the international practitioners.'  Twain sighed heavily and continued, 'It was upon my return, when I met mum again at our clinic, that she informed me once more, that I am your father.'  His eyes met Macy's, apologetic for abandoning her, and all he'd subjected her to.  She nodded encouragingly.   

'We have indisputable scientific proof, so there is no doubt whatsoever, that I am your father and you are my son.  My child,' Twain declared passionately.

'So you didn't go away then because you didn't want me?'

Macy gasped.  Twain was shocked, but quickly responded.  'No, absolutely not,' Twain answered sincerely.

'Frankie said you didn't care about me and mum, that's why you dumped us.'

"'Frankie?"  Twain questioned, anger laced his voice.

'The kid Parker got into an altercation with at school, when he was suspended.'  Macy answered.

She watched Twain's fists clench, until his knuckles were ice white.  He'd lowered his eyes, Macy could imagine the anger and fury raging inside him.

'Why didn't you tell me this sweetheart?'  Macy murmured, drawing Parker against her.  He shrugged, staring at his milkshake.  Truth was he had hated mentioning anything related to his father, to his mum.  It always made her sad and he never liked seeing his mum, sad or unhappy and if his father ever, ever made his mum sad again...

 'I am truly sorry you had to endure all of that Parker,' Twain's eyes filled with moisture.  'I would never, not want my child.  I will always take responsibility for my children,' Twain asserted. 

Parker kept his head lowered, watching the creamy froth of his drink.

'And Parker, I want you to know you can call me anytime of the day or night ___ as long as mum is fine with that,' he added.  'My door is also opened to you, always,' he assured Parker.

 Finally Parker nodded, as if accepting Twain's explanation.  'Okay,' he murmured, sipping on his drink.

 Macy decided, she'd keep Parker with her at the hospital until she needed to go home.  He was happy.  He loved hanging around his mum's surgery.  On the way back, Twain was quiet, battling his demons, brooding about his conversation with Parker.  Macy wondered if he was thinking about how many other people would hold the same opinion as the teenager Frankie.  Macy wanted to reach out and touch him, but she held back.

That evening, Twain called Macy.  He just wanted to hear her melodic voice and her laughter, but he also confirmed their weekend away trip.  He sounded excited.  He was eagerly waiting for Friday, he informed her.  Macy was not sure.  Parker had sat in her surgery totally subdued.  When they got home he didn't talk much.  Macy hadn't even needed to ask him to go to bed.  He said goodnight ten minutes before his bedtime.  Normally, Macy had to remind him, it was time to go to bed. 

Oh my God!  Oh my God! Oh My God! 

'This can't be happening,' Macy whispered to herself.  'This can't be happening. Maybe it's a mistake.  But the signs were all there.  She was six weeks late.  Her breasts were tender and third confirmation, if she wanted one. 
She had just thrown up ...!

'How could I have been so stupid?
 
Oh I'm a dead person now.  Why the hell did I sleep with him?  Why the hell didn't I remind Twain to use protection?  
Hundred percent fertile!  That's you Twain Crawford.  
We have sex twice within a ten year gap and I fall pregnant both times!

 'Urghh!

  'Macy?'

 'Yeah mum?  She gargled her mouth with mouth wash, and washed her face.

 'Are you okay?'

 Macy opened her bedroom door.  Her mother was standing there, her eyes filled with concern. 
'You should have left forty minutes ago?  Are you okay, dear?'

'No!'  Macy dragged herself back and sunk on her bed, her hands covered her face.

 'What's wrong dear?'

 'I'm pregnant mum,' Macy sobbed.  'God, I'm so stupid!'

'Again!  Have you not heard of contraception?'

 Macy could feel the heat of embarrassment blazing on her cheeks. 
'You're not helping here mum.'  She wanted to scream at her own stupid irresponsibility.

 'Who ___ is it?'

 'What?'

 'The father?'

 Macy's face was scarlet, her eyes shifted away uncomfortably.

 'You slept with Twain!  Again?  When?'

'Mum!' 
Macy hopped off the bed and turned her back on her mother.

 'Does Twain know?'

 Macy spun around.  'I only just found out, like two minutes ago!'

            -end chapter eighteen-