She nods dully. “Yeah. Just a few knocks and bruises. And I want to punch the driver who rear ended us, right in his tiny little testicles. But otherwise…yeah, I got lucky.” Sometimes Eleanorsounds just like Sadie, and I’d smile if I wasn’t feeling so sick about what’s taken place.I could have lost my daughter.
I could still lose Nat.
Not that she’s even mine to lose, but tell that to my aching heart.
“What happened?” I sit us both down in the blue plastic seats screwed to the wall. They’re uncomfortable, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters until I know what we’re looking at here, and if the mother of my child is OK or not.
She wipes her eyes. “It was horrible… He hit us really hard from behind, and we spun around, and kept on spinning.” More tears fall, and her chin wobbles. Just like when she was a toddler, crying as I dropped her off because she wanted to be with both MummyandDaddy.
“It’s OK, I’ve got you,” I murmur, giving her hand a little squeeze.
“And M-Mum was trying to steer, but…and then…” Her shoulders judder as she loses control again. “There was this wall…it was heading right for me…and Mum…” She hiccups. “Mum threw the steering wheel around, and she made it so thatshehit the wall instead of me. She saved my life, and now she… She’s in…” And with that, she leans forward, bent double, sobbing her eyes out.
My own are damp as a riot of emotions smash through me. Rage at the driver who hit them, who would do well to never cross my path. Sympathy for my daughter, who must be feeling awful right now, even though none of this is her fault. And, above all, desperate gratitude to Nat for doing whatever she had to do to protect Eleanor and taking the brunt of the damage in her place. I willneverbe able to repay her for that.
Assuming I even get the chance. “What’s the damage for your mum? Has anyone said?”
She pushes her hair back with both hands. “They said she’s broken her legs, and that she’ll need surgery to fix them. That’s where she is now.”
“Was she conscious?”
“Yes. Told me not to worry about her, but I could tell…sh-she was in pain.” She leans her head in the crook of my shoulder, and I pull her close. “Oh my god, what if she can’t dance anymore, Dad? It’d be all my fault…if she hadn’t swerved - ”
“Hey.” I give her a gentle shake. “Don’t you ever think like that. If I’d been the one driving, I’d have done the exact same thing. Your mum and I love you more than anything in the world, and we would doanything, not limited to sacrificing our lives, to keep you safe and unharmed. And neither one of us would hesitate or regret it. OK?”
I know it doesn’t exactly make her feelbetter, but she at least understands now that this is a choice her mother would have made a million times over, because the alternative is not just unthinkable to us, but unbearable to even contemplate.
And, as we wait, my arms around her so she feels more secure, I can only hope that theotheralternative - where Nat is never OK again - is not the trade-off for my daughter’s life. I know Eleanor, and that will cast a dark shadow over the rest of her days.
To say nothing of the shadow it would cast over my own.
I still love you.
These are the words that spring to my mind first when I see Nat lying in her hospital bed, still groggy from the anaesthesia, her neck wrapped in a foam brace. Typical Nat, she’s muttering soothing words to Eleanor and stroking her hair as she holds her, comforting her daughter whenshe’sthe one banged up in a hospital bed.
I don’t thinkhow are you feeling.
Orcan I get you anything or do anything at all for you.
Not eventhank you for saving our daughter at the expense of your own wellbeing.
Just those four little words that I’ve been smothering inside myself for the past fifteen odd years, ever since she and I decided to just focus on our little girl and put our relationship to one side. Being a couple just seemed like such a gamble, when we were so young and shell shocked and exhausted by parenthood, and when we were still children ourselves. We wanted Eleanor to have the stability she deserved from her family, as well as all of our focus, not sparing any for loving each other. As if we’d even have had the energy, anyway. Now the idea just seemsshockingly stupid and a waste of precious time. Yes, we were so very young, and confused, but we were also desperately in love.
And I, for one, still am. I always will be; there’s no escaping it, and I’d never want to, no matter what.
I need to face up to that, instead of ignoring it like a dickhead and pretending it’s all in the past. Even if she’s no longer in this with me, which she might not be. Maybe she’s moved on the way I never could. It won’t make any difference to my heart if she has; I’ll still be hers and nobody else’s.
Nat’s smile when she sees me over El’s shoulder is tired, but warm, like she’s glad I’m here. Looking at her is like a punch in the gut. There’s a drip in her hand, and small cuts dotted over her arms and face from being showered in broken glass from the smashed windshield. She’s looking sallow with exhaustion, with dark circles around her eyes. Her hair, usually a neat, smooth brown mane that reaches her shoulders, is a total mess. It sticks up on one side and is slightly matted and tangled from the remains of blood and sweat.
She has never looked more beautiful in her life.
Before I get the chance to say anything, the blue curtains around her bed are pulled open, and then closed again by the nurse who enters the bedside area. “Hi, is this your family?” She’s short and smiley, and exactly the sort of cheerful person you’d find most reassuring if you woke up in hospital.
“Yes,” Nat says simply, and something inside me begins to relax at her confirmation.Wearefamily.If nothing else, we have that undeniable fact.
“Is my mum OK? What’s the bottom line? Will her legs be alright?” Eleanor fires off questions like a Gattling gun.
“El,” I murmur, “slow down and let the nurse speak.” My eyes meet Nat’s, and her sleepy smile is everything to me in this moment. It means she’s still here and not beyond reach, like she might have been.
