Another girl? Is this some kind of joke? Our family has had four generations of men working for the railways! And what have you brought us? I am I really such a disappointment? Am I that bad of a father? What do you think?
Charlotte, his mother-in-law sighed, after a pause. Well, at least its a proper name. But what use is she? Whos going to want your Charlotte?
James sat in silence, glued to his phone. When his wife asked him for his opinion, he only shrugged,
It is what it is. Maybe the next one will be a boy.
Emma felt something twist inside her. The next one? And what about this little oneis she just a test run?
Charlotte arrived in January: a tiny baby with enormous, searching eyes and a shock of dark hair. James only turned up for the discharge, bringing a bouquet of carnations and a carrier bag of baby things.
Shes pretty, he said tentatively, peering into the pram. Looks like you.
But shes got your nose, Emma smiled. And your stubborn chin.
Oh, stop, James waved her off. All babies look the same at this age.
Margaret, his mother, met them at home with a pursed, unhappy look.
Mrs. Green was asking, is it a grandson or granddaughter? It was embarrassing to answer, she grumbled. At my age, playing with dolls
Emma shut herself away in the nursery and wept quietly, hugging her daughter to her chest.
James worked longer hours than ever. Took on odd jobs for the neighbours, extra shifts when he could. He always said the family was expensive, especially with a baby. At home he was late, sullen, and silent.
She waits for you, Emma told him when he passed by the nursery without so much as a glance. Charlotte always perks up when she hears your footsteps.
Im tired, Em. Ive got to be up early tomorrow.
You didnt even say hello to her
Shes too little. She wont understand.
But Charlotte understood. Emma saw how her daughter would turn her head to the door whenever she heard her fathers steps, and then stare long after his footsteps died away.
At eight months, Charlotte fell ill. Fever shot up to thirty-eight, then thirty-nine. Emma called the doctors, but the GP said to keep her home for now, keep her hydrated and on Calpol. By morning, the temperature had soared to forty.
James, get up! Emma shook her husband. Charlottes really poorly!
What time is it? James asked groggily.
Seven. I was up all night with her. We need to get to hospital!
This early? Cant it wait until tonight? Ive got an important shift
Emma stared at him like he was a stranger.
Your daughters burning up, and youre worried about your shift?
Shes not dying! Babies get sick all the time.
Emma hailed a taxi herself.
At the hospital, the doctors admitted Charlotte to the infectious diseases ward immediately. Suspected meningitisthey needed a spinal tap.
Wheres the childs father? the consultant asked. We need both parents’ consents for this.
Hes at work. Hell be here soon.
Emma called James all day, but his phone was off. Finally, at seven in the evening, he picked up.
Em, Im at the yard, busy
James, Charlottes got suspected meningitis! They need your consent for a lumbar puncture! Doctors are waiting!
What? A what? I dont understand
Just come now! Please!
Cant. My shifts till eleven. Then the lads and I have plans
Emma hung up, stone-faced.
She signed the consent herselfas her mother, she had the right. They did the spinal tap under general anaesthetic. Charlotte looked impossibly small on the great hospital trolley.
Results will be in tomorrow, the doctor told Emma. If its meningitis, the treatment will take weeks. At least a month and a half here.
Emma stayed overnight. Charlotte lay pale and still under the IV, her little chest rising and falling slowly.
James came in at midday the next day, unshaven, rumpled, defeated.
Well how is she? he asked hesitantly from the doorway.
Not well, Emma replied coldly. Were still waiting for results.
What did they do to her? That thing
A spinal tap. They took fluid from her spine for testing.
James turned white.
Did it hurt her?
She was under anaesthetic. She didnt feel it.
He edged towards the cot and stopped. Charlotte slept on, her tiny hand on top of the blanket, a cannula taped to her wrist.
Shes so tiny, James muttered. I didnt realise
Emma said nothing.
The test came back clearno meningitis. Just a nasty virus, but with complications. She could be treated at home, with careful monitoring.
Lucky, the consultant said. Another days delay and it could have ended badly.
On the way home, James was silent. Only as they turned into their road did he whisper,
Am I am I really that bad? As a father?
Emma shifted sleeping Charlotte gently and looked at him.
What do you think?
I thought there was still so much time. That shes too young to notice anything. But in there with those tubes I realised I could lose her. And that I do have something to lose.
James, she needs a dad. Not a breadwinner, not just someone who brings in the money. A father. Someone who knows her name. Someone who can tell you what her favourite toys are.
What are they? he asked softly.
The rubber hedgehog and the jingly rattle. When you come home, she always crawls to the door. She waits for you to pick her up.
James dropped his head.
I didnt know
Now you do.
When they got home, Charlotte woke and criedthin and pitiful. Instinctively, James reached out, then hesitated.
May I? he asked Emma.
Shes your daughter.
He took Charlotte gently into his arms. She whimpered and went calm, watching his face with wide, serious eyes.
Hello, sweetheart, James murmured. Im so sorry I wasnt there when you needed me.
Charlotte reached for his face and touched his cheek. James felt a tightness in his throat he couldnt name.
Daddy, Charlotte suddenly said, clear as a bell.
It was her very first word.
James looked at Emma in shock.
She she said
Shes been saying it for a week, Emma smiled. But only when youre not at home. Perhaps she was waiting for the right moment.
That evening, when Charlotte fell asleep on her fathers chest, James carefully laid her in the cot. She didnt wake, only gripped his finger tighter in her sleep.
She doesnt want to let go, James said softly.
Shes afraid youll disappear again, Emma replied.
He sat at her bedside half an hour more, unable to pull his hand away.
Im taking tomorrow off, James whispered. And the next day too. I I need to get to know my daughter.
But what about work? What about all the extra shifts?
Well manage. Or well live more simply. What matters is not missing her growing up.
Emma wrapped him in a hug.
Better late than never.
Id never forgive myself if anything had happened, and I hadnt even known her favourite toy, James said quietly, watching their daughter sleep. Or that she could say Daddy.
A week later, when Charlotte was fully recovered, the three of them went to the park. The little girl sat on her fathers shoulders, giggling as she reached for golden autumn leaves.
See all the colours, darling Charlotte? James pointed out the yellow maples. Theres a squirrel, look!
Emma walked beside them, thinking how sometimes you nearly have to lose whats dearest before you truly understand its value.
Margaret met them at home, still unsmiling.
James, Mrs. Green says her grandsons already playing football. And yours still messing about with dolls.
My daughter is the best in the world, James answered calmly, setting Charlotte on the rug and handing her the rubber hedgehog. And dolls are brilliant.
But the family line
Wont end. Itll continue. Just in a new way.
Margaret was about to retort, but Charlotte crawled over and reached for her nan.
Nana! she said, grinning broadly.
Margaret, taken aback, lifted her granddaughter.
She she talks! she gasped.
Our Charlottes a clever one, James said proudly. Arent you, darling?
Daddy! Charlotte replied gleefully, clapping her hands.
Watching them, Emma thought that sometimes happiness comes after the hardest trials. And that the greatest love is not born at first sight, but matures slowly, painfully, through fear and hardship.
That night, as he tucked Charlotte in, James sang her a lullaby. His voice was rough, a little hesitant, but Charlotte stared up at him, wide awake.
You never sang to her before, Emma noted.
Theres a lot I never did before, he said. But now, Ive time to make up for it.
Charlotte fell asleep clutching his finger tightlyand for once, James didnt take his hand away, but sat in the darkness beside her, listening to her even breathing, and thinking how easily life slips by if we dont stop and look at what truly matters.
And Charlotte slept, smiling in her dreamsfinally sure that her daddy wasnt going anywhere.
This story came to us from one of our readers. Sometimes, fate requires more than a choicea true trialto awaken a persons brightest feelings. Do you believe someone can truly change, when faced with losing what they love most?
