First word already? I heard Helen Miller snort, slamming the ultrasound printout onto the kitchen table. Another girl? Really? In our family four generations of men have been on the railways what are you bringing home now?
Lily, Emma whispered, rubbing her belly. Thats what well call her.
Lily at least the names decent, Helen said, raising an eyebrow. But whats she going to be good for? Wholl need a Lily?
Mark was glued to his phone. When Emma asked his thoughts, he just shrugged. What comes, comes. Maybe the next one will be a boy.
Emma felt a knot tighten. Next one? As if this little one is just a rehearsal.
Lily arrived in January tiny, bigeyed, a tuft of dark hair. Mark only showed up at the discharge, carrying a bunch of carnations and a bag of baby stuff.
Beautiful, he said, peering into the pram. She looks just like you.
And that nose of yours, Emma laughed, and that stubborn chin.
Enough, Mark waved it off. Kids all look the same at that age.
Helen met them at the door with a sour expression. Neighbour Vera asked if its a grandson or a granddaughter. Embarrassing to admit, she muttered. At my age Im still playing with dolls
Emma tucked herself into the nursery and cried quietly, pressing the newborn against her chest.
Mark started pulling extra shifts, hopping onto neighboring tracks, taking on overtime. He kept saying the family was getting expensive, especially with a child, and trudged home late, exhausted and silent.
Shes waiting for you, Emma would say whenever he passed the nursery without even looking in. Lily always lights up when she hears your steps.
Im knackered, Emma. Got an early shift tomorrow, Mark would reply. But I havent even said hi to her yet
Its a baby, he wont understand, Emma would sigh.
But Lily did understand. Emma watched her turn her head toward the door the moment she heard Marks footsteps, then stare into nothingness as they faded away.
At eight months Lily fell ill. Her temperature first hit 38°C, then 39°C. Emma called an ambulance, but the doctor said she could stay home and take paracetamol for now. By morning the fever spiked to 40°C.
Mark, get up! Lilys really bad! Emma shouted, trying to rouse him. What time is it?
Seven, he groaned, finally opening his eyes. Ive been up all night with her. We need to get to the hospital.
Now? Can we wait until evening? Ive got a crucial shift
Emma stared at him like he were a stranger. Your daughters burning up, and youre thinking about a shift?
Shes not dying, kids get sick all the time, he muttered.
Emma ordered a taxi herself.
At the hospital Lily was whisked into the infection ward. Doctors suspected a serious inflammation and wanted a spinal tap.
Wheres the father? the senior doctor asked. We need consent from both parents.
Hes at work. Hell be here soon, Emma replied, trying to keep calm.
She called Mark all day, but his phone was off. He finally answered at seven in the evening.
Emma, Im at the depot, busy
Mark, Lilys got meningitis! They need your consent for the tap now! The doctors are waiting!
What? A tap? I dont understand
Come right away!
I cant, my shift ends at eleven. Then Ill make arrangements with the lads
Emma hung up, heart sinking.
In the end Emma signed the consent as mother the law allowed it. Lily was put under general anaesthetic, looking tiny on the big operation table.
The results will be ready tomorrow, the doctor said. If its meningitis, treatment will be long about a month and a half in hospital.
Emma stayed overnight, watching Lily under the drip, pale and still, her chest rising only faintly.
Mark showed up the next day for lunch, looking gaunt and tired.
Hows she? he asked, edging into the room.
Bad, Emma said shortly. The lab results arent back yet.
What did they do to her? he prompted. The whats it called?
A spinal tap. They took fluid from her spine for testing.
Mark went white.
Did it hurt?
She was under anaesthetic. She didnt feel anything.
He stood by the bedside, frozen. Lily slept, a tiny hand draped over the blanket, a catheter taped to her wrist.
Shes so small, Mark whispered, almost to himself. I never imagined
Emma said nothing.
The test came back negative for meningitis just a nasty viral infection with complications. They could treat her at home under a doctors watch.
Lucky us, the senior doctor said. A day or two longer and it could have been far worse.
On the drive home Mark was silent. When they pulled up to the house he finally asked, lowkey, Am I really that bad as a dad?
Emma adjusted Lilys blanket and looked at him. What do you think?
I used to think there was plenty of time, that she was too little to understand anything. Then I saw her there, tubes and everything I realised I could lose her, and Id actually be losing something.
Mark, she needs a father, not just a provider. A dad who knows her name, knows her favourite toys.
What are they? he asked quietly.
A rubber hedgehog and a little jinglebell rattle. When you get home she crawls to the door, waiting for you to pick her up.
Mark lowered his head. I didnt know
Now you do.
At home Lily woke up and began to whine softly. Mark instinctively reached for her but stopped. Can I? he asked Emma.
Shes yours.
He lifted Lily gently. She hiccuped, then settled, staring at his face with big, serious eyes.
Hey there, little one, Mark whispered. Sorry I wasnt there when you were scared.
Lily placed a tiny hand on his cheek. Mark felt a lump form in his throat.
Dad, Lily said clearly.
His eyes widened. She she said?
Shes been trying for a week, Emma chuckled. Just waiting for the right moment when you werent home.
That night, after Lily fell asleep on his chest, Mark carried her to her own cot. She didnt stir, just clenched his finger a bit tighter in her sleep.
She doesnt want to let go, Mark said, surprised.
Shes afraid youll disappear again, Emma explained.
He sat by the cot for another half hour, unwilling to release his finger.
Im taking a day off tomorrow, he told Emma. And the next day too. I want to really get to know my daughter.
What about work? The extra shifts?
Well find another way to make ends meet. Maybe live a bit more modestly. The point is not to miss how she grows.
Emma squeezed his shoulder. Better late than never.
Id never forgive myself if something happened and I never even knew her favourite toys, Mark said quietly, watching Lilys breathing. Or that she could say dad.
A week later, when Lily was fully recovered, the three of them went to the park. Lily perched on Marks shoulders, giggling as she scooped up autumn leaves.
Look at that, Lily! See those golden maples? Mark pointed. And theres a squirrel!
Emma walked beside them, thinking how sometimes you have to almost lose something precious to truly value it.
When they got home, Helen was waiting with that familiar scowl. Mark, Vera told me her grandson is already playing football. And yours just dolls?
My daughters the best in the world, Mark replied calmly, setting Lily on the floor and handing her the rubber hedgehog. And dolls are wonderful.
But the family line will break
It wont. Itll continue, just a little differently.
Helen tried to protest, but Lily toddled over, grabbed her hands and shouted, Baba! with a wide grin.
The old lady was taken aback, then smiled. She shes talking!
Our Lily is clever, Mark said proudly. Right, love?
Dad! Lily cheered, clapping her hands.
Emma watched the scene, feeling that happiness often comes after a trial, and the deepest love is the kind that grows slowly, through fear and loss.
That night, as he sang Lily a lullaby, his voice a little rough around the edges, Lily kept her eyes wide open, listening.
You never sang to her before, Emma noted.
Ive missed a lot, Mark admitted. Now Ive got time to make up for it.
Lily drifted off, clutching Marks finger. He stayed there in the dark, listening to her breathing, thinking about how easy it is to miss the truly important things if you dont pause and look around.
She slept with a tiny smile, knowing her dad wasnt going anywhere.
