It was her first word
Another girl? Whats the jest? Eleanor Finch snapped the ultrasound sheet onto the kitchen table. Four generations of men have toiled on the railways in our family. And what have you brought?
A little one, Anne whispered, rubbing her swelling belly. Well call her Holly.
Holly the motherinlaw drew out. At least the name sounds proper. But what use will she be? Who will need your Holly?
Max, his eyes glued to his pockethandset, said nothing. When his wife pressed for his view he merely shrugged. Whats there, there will be. Perhaps the next will be a boy.
Anne felt something tighten inside her. The next? Was this tiny creature just a rehearsal?
Holly arrived in January, a wisp of a baby with enormous eyes and a tuft of dark hair. Max turned up only for the discharge, bearing a bouquet of carnations and a sack of baby clothes.
Lovely, he said, peering cautiously into the pram. She looks just like you.
And that nose of yours, Anne smiled. And the stubborn chin.
Enough of that, Max waved off. All children look the same at that age.
Eleanor met them at the doorway with a sour expression. Neighbour Valerie asked if we had a grandson or a granddaughter. Its embarrassing to answer, she muttered. At my age Im still playing nurse with dolls
Anne withdrew into the nursery and wept softly, pressing the infant to her breast.
Maxs hours grew longer. He took extra shifts on the nearby lines, picking up night work wherever he could. The family costs a fortune, especially with a child, he would say, returning home exhausted, silent, and late.
Shes waiting for you, Anne would tell him as he passed the childrens room without even glancing in. Holly always comes alive when she hears your steps.
Im spent, Anne. I start early tomorrow.
But you havent even greeted her
Shes too little to understand.
Yet Holly understood. Anne watched her turn her head toward the door each time her fathers footsteps echoed, then stare vacantly as they faded away.
At eight months Holly fell ill. First her temperature rose to thirtyeight, then thirtynine degrees Celsius. Anne called an ambulance, but the doctor advised they try paracetamol at home. By morning the fever spiked to forty.
Max, get up! Anne shouted, shaking him. Holly is terribly ill!
What time is it? Max blinked awake.
Its seven. Ive been up with her all night. We must get her to hospital!
Is it that early? Could we wait till evening? I have a crucial shift today
Anne stared at him as if he were a stranger.
Your daughters burning with fever and youre thinking about a shift?
Shes not dying! Children get sick all the time.
Anne ordered a taxi herself.
At the infirmary the doctors whisked Holly to the isolation ward, suspecting a severe infection and preparing for a spinal tap.
Where is the father? the ward manager asked. We need consent from both parents.
He works. Hell be here soon.
Anne tried calling Max all day; his line was dead. At seven oclock in the evening he finally answered.
Anne, Im at the depot
Holly has meningitis! We need your consent for the tap! The doctors are waiting!
What? A tap? I dont understand
Come at once!
I cant, my shift runs till eleven. Then Ill speak to the lads
Anne hung up, the line clicking off.
The consent was signed by the mother alone; the law allowed it. The tap was performed under general anaesthetic. Holly lay tiny on the large operating table, looking like a fragile wisp.
The results will be ready tomorrow, the surgeon said. If its meningitis, treatment will be longabout a month and a half in hospital.
Anne stayed the night in the ward. Holly lay under an IV, pale and still, her chest rising only faintly.
Max appeared the next day for lunch, gaunt and dishevelled.
Hows she? he asked, hesitant to enter.
Bad, Anne replied shortly. The tests arent back yet.
What did they do to her? This whats her name again?
A spinal tap. They took fluid from her spine for analysis.
Maxs face went ashen.
Did it hurt her?
Under anaesthesia she felt nothing.
He stood by the cot, frozen. Holly slept, a tiny hand draped over the blanket, a catheter glued to her wrist.
Shes so small, Max muttered. I never imagined
Anne said nothing.
The lab later reported no meningitisjust a common viral infection with complications. She could be treated at home under a doctors watch.
We were lucky, the ward manager said. A day or two longer and it could have been worse.
On the drive home Max sat mute. Only when they pulled up to their cottage did he ask in a low voice, Am I really that terrible as a father?
Anne eased Holly onto a softer pillow and turned to him. What do you think?
I thought there was plenty of time. Shes so small she cant understand anything. But when I saw her there with those tubes I realised I could lose her. And that loss would be real.
Max, she needs a father, not just a breadwinner. A father who knows her name, who can tell you her favourite toys.
What are they? he asked quietly.
A rubber hedgehog and a jingling rattle. When you come home she crawls to the door, waiting for you to pick her up.
Max lowered his head. I didnt know
Now you do.
That night Holly awoke and began to soba thin, plaintive wail. Max instinctively reached for her, then stopped.
May I? he asked Anne.
Shes yours.
He lifted Holly gently. The little girl sniffed and fell silent, studying his face with solemn, wide eyes.
Hello, little one, Max whispered. Im sorry I wasnt there when you were scared.
Holly pressed her tiny hand to his cheek. A strange tightness rose in his throat.
Daddy, she said clearly for the first time.
It was her first word.
Max stared at Anne, eyes wide open.
She she said it, he breathed.
Shes been trying for a week, Anne chuckled. Just waiting for you to be away, I suppose.
Later, when Holly dozed in his arms, Max carried her back to her cot. She clutched his finger a little tighter in her sleep.
She doesnt want to be let go, Max said, surprised.
She fears youll disappear again, Anne explained.
He lingered by the cot for half an hour, reluctant to free his finger.
Tomorrow Ill take a day off, he told her. And the day after that too. I want to get to know my daughter properly.
What about work? Extra shifts?
Well find another way to earn, or live more modestly. The point is not to miss how she grows.
Anne wrapped her arms around him. Better late than never.
Id never forgive myself if something happened and I never even knew what her favourite toys were, Max murmured, watching his sleeping daughter. Or that she could say Daddy.
A week later, when Holly was fully recovered, the three of them walked to the village park. Holly perched on Maxs shoulders, laughing brightly as she grabbed at autumn leaves.
Look, Holly, what a beauty! Max pointed at the golden maples. Theres a squirrel over there!
Anne strolled beside them, thinking how sometimes you must almost lose the most precious thing to truly value it.
Eleanor met them at the cottage with a scowl. Valerie told me her grandson is already playing football. And yours only dolls.
My daughter is the best in the world, Max answered calmly, setting Holly on the floor and handing her the rubber hedgehog. And dolls are wonderful.
But the line will break
It wont. It will continue, just in a different shape.
Eleanor tried to protest, but Holly waddled over, grabbed the old womans hands and chirped, Grandma! with a wide grin.
The motherinlaw, bewildered, lifted her granddaughter. She shes speaking!
Our Holly is very clever, Max said proudly. Right, love?
Daddy! Holly exclaimed, clapping her hands.
Anne watched the scene and thought of how happiness often arrives through trial, and how the deepest love is the one that matures slowly, forged by fear and loss.
That night, as he sang a lullaby, Maxs voice was low and a little hoarse, yet Holly listened with her eyes wide open.
You never sang to her before, Anne noted.
I didnt do much before, Max replied. Now I have time to make up for it.
Holly fell asleep, clutching his finger. Max stayed in the dim room, listening to her breathing, pondering how much he would have missed if he hadnt paused and looked back at what truly mattered.
And Holly slept, smiling in her dreams, now certain that her father would never go away.
This tale was sent in by one of our readers. Sometimes fate demands not just a choice but a great trial to awaken the brightest feelings in a person. Do you believe a man can change when he realises what he stands to lose most dearly?
