Its her first word, declared the midwife, sliding the ultrasound printout onto the kitchen table. Again, a girl? Really? In our family four generations of men have hauled freight for the railway. And what did you bring me?
Evelyn, whispered Anne, patting her swollen belly. Well call her Evelyn.
Evelyn at least its a proper name, Margaret, Maxs mother, said, eyes narrowing. But whats she going to be good for? Who needs another Evelyn?
Max stared at his phone, silent. When Anne asked his opinion, he shrugged. What youve got is what youve got. Maybe the next one will be a boy.
Anne felt something tighten inside her. Next one? she thought. Is this little one just a rehearsal?
Evelyn arrived in Januarytiny, with huge eyes and a tuft of dark hair. Max showed up only for the discharge, bearing a bouquet of carnations and a bag of baby stuff.
Beautiful, he said, peering gently into the pram. She looks just like you.
And that nose, Anne giggled. And that stubborn chin.
Enough, Max waved off. All babies look the same at that age.
Margaret met them at the front door with a sour expression. Neighbour Valerie asked whether I had a grandson or a granddaughter. Its embarrassing to answer, she muttered. At my age Im still playing with dolls
Anne retreated to the nursery and quietly wept, cradling her daughter against her chest.
Maxs hours grew longer. He took extra shifts on nearby lines, picking up overtime wherever he could. The family is expensive, especially with a child, hed say, coming home late, exhausted and mute.
Shes waiting for you, Anne would say as he passed the nursery without looking inside. Evelyn always lights up when she hears your footsteps.
Im knackered, Anne. Early shift tomorrow.
But you havent even said hello to her
Shes too little to understand.
But Evelyn understood. Anne saw her turn her head toward the door the moment she heard Maxs steps, then stare into empty air as those steps faded away.
At eight months Evelyn fell ill. Her temperature rose to 38°C, then 39°C. Anne called an ambulance, but the doctor said they could try paracetamol at home. By morning the fever spiked to 40°C.
Max, get up! Anne shouted, shaking him. Evelyn is really poorly!
What time is it? Max squinted awake.
Seven. Ive been up all night with her. We need to get her to hospital.
Isnt it early? Maybe we wait until evening? Ive got an important shift today
Anne stared at him as if he were a stranger.
Your daughters burning up and youre thinking about a shift?
Shes not dying! Kids get sick all the time.
Anne ordered a taxi herself.
At the hospital, doctors whisked Evelyn to the isolation ward, suspecting a serious infection and ordering a spinal tap.
Wheres the father? the head nurse asked. We need both parents consent.
Hes at work. Hell be here soon.
Anne tried calling Max all day. His phone was off. At seven in the evening he finally answered.
Anne, Im at the depot, busy
Max, Evelyn has meningitis! We need your consent for the tap now! The doctors are waiting!
What? A tap? I dont get it
Come immediately!
I cant, my shift runs till eleven. After that Ive got a meeting with the union
Anne cut the call.
In the end, only Anne signed the consentmothers have the legal right. The tap was done under general anaesthetic; Evelyn looked like a tiny doll on the big operating table.
The results will be ready tomorrow, the doctor said. If it is meningitis, treatment will be longabout a month and a half in hospital.
Anne stayed overnight. Evelyn lay under an IV, pale and still, her chest rising only faintly.
Max arrived the next day for lunch, looking haggard and greasy.
Hows she? he asked, barely entering the ward.
Bad, Anne replied shortly. The lab results arent back yet.
What did they do to her? The whats her name again?
Spinal tap. They took fluid from her spine for analysis.
Maxs face went white.
Did it hurt her?
She was under anaesthetic, she felt nothing.
He stood by the bedside, frozen. Evelyn 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 tests came back negative for meningitisjust a nasty viral infection with complications. She could be treated at home under a doctors watch.
Lucky you, the head nurse said. A day or two longer and it could have been far worse.
On the drive home Max was quiet. When they pulled up to the house he finally whispered, Am I really that bad of a father?
Anne shifted Evelyn to a comfier spot and looked at him.
What do you think?
I thought there was plenty of time, that she was too little to understand anything. Then I saw her in that hospital, tubes and all, and realised I could actually lose her. And that losing something is terrifying.
Max, she needs a dadnot a breadwinner, not the guy who brings home the money. A dad who knows her name, who can tell you her favourite toys.
What are they? he asked softly.
A rubber hedgehog and a little jingle bell rattle. When you get home she always crawls to the door, waiting for you to pick her up.
Max lowered his head. I didnt know.
Now you do.
At home Evelyn woke and started to whimper. Max instinctively reached for her but stopped.
May I? he asked Anne.
Shes your daughter.
He lifted Evelyn gently. She sniffed, then fell silent, studying his face with big, serious eyes.
Hello, little one, Max whispered. Sorry I wasnt there when you were scared.
Evelyn tugged his hand to his cheek and said, Daddy.
It was her first word.
Max stared at Anne, eyes wide.
She she said
Shes been trying for a week, Anne smiled. Just waiting for you to be out of the house, I guess.
That night, after Evelyn fell asleep in Maxs arms, he placed her back in the crib. She squeezed his finger even in her sleep.
She doesnt want to let go, Max said, puzzled.
Shes afraid youll disappear again, Anne explained.
He sat by the crib for half an hour, unwilling to withdraw his finger.
Tomorrow Im taking a day off, he told Anne. And the day after that too. I want to get to know my daughter properly.
What about work? The extra shifts?
Well find another way to earn. Maybe 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 her favourite toys, Max murmured, watching his sleeping daughter. Or that she can say daddy.
A week later, fully recovered, the three of them went to the park. Evelyn perched on Maxs shoulders, laughing, clutching at autumn leaves.
Look, Evelyn, the golden maples! Max pointed. And theres a squirrel!
Anne strolled beside them, thinking how it sometimes takes almost losing something precious to realise its true value.
Margaret met them at the door with a disgruntled grin.
Max, Valerie told me her grandson is already playing football. And yours just dolls.
My daughter is the best in the world, Max replied calmly, setting Evelyn on the floor with her rubber hedgehog. And dolls are wonderful.
But the line will break
It wont. It will change, but it will go on.
Margaret tried to argue, but Evelyn waddled over and grabbed her hands.
Grandma! she exclaimed, beaming.
Margaret, bewildered, took her in.
Shes talking! she gasped.
Our Evelyn is very clever, Max said proudly. Right, love?
Daddy! Evelyn shouted, clapping her hands.
Anne watched the scene and thought how happiness often arrives through trials, and that the greatest love is the one that matures slowly, forged by fear and loss.
That evening, as Max sang a lullaby, his voice low and a little hoarse, Evelyn listened with wide eyes.
You never sang to her before, Anne observed.
Ive missed a lot, Max admitted. But now I have time to make up for it.
Evelyn drifted off, clutching Maxs finger. He stayed in the dark, listening to her breathing, thinking of all the moments hed have missed if he hadnt paused.
She smiled in her sleep, knowing her dad wasnt going anywhere.
This story was sent in by one of our readers. Sometimes fate needs not just a choice, but a serious test to awaken the brightest feelings in a person. Do you believe a person can truly change when they realise they might lose the thing they love most?
