I love her already for nothing more than that.
Me: LOL. I’m on my way x
Twenty-two
Nash
When I was at medical school, New Year’s Eve went from the sublime to the ridiculous. In the alternate years I was off hospital rotations, it was an excuse to go wild, drinking far more than I ever usually would and getting disappointed by the anticlimax that always seemed to be a New Year’s ‘big night out’. Pubs always charged entry when they never usually did, the beers were more expensive, too, and there was never a single taxi to be had, so I ended up either schlepping it home on foot or sleeping on someone’s grubby sofa.
In the years when I was on hospital rotation, I was run off my feet treating all the drunkand disorderly patients as well as managing the more critical cases, of which, for some reason, there always seemed to be more over the festive period.
But this year, New Year’s Eve may herald the end of a year, but it also marks a new beginning. My life as a parent has arrived.
When Abigail pulled into my driveway, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Should I wait inside for them to knock on the door? Should I head outside and help with bags? Should I open the door and leave it wide open so they can make their own way in?
Unexpected nerves held me captive to my kitchen floor, and I just stood and stared through the window as Abigail tried to get Nancy out of the car. After a few minutes and still no Nancy, my concern overrode my anxiety, and I strode straight for the door.
As soon as my front door opened, Abigail straightened from the back door of her car, while I hovered for a second on the doorstep, unsure of what to do. Abigail inclined her head at me in a ‘come here’ gesture, so I quickly pulled on my shoes and rushed over to the car.
“Nancy’s feeling a little bit unsure about things, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Abigail said. Imoved around her so I was in Nancy’s line of sight. Or I would’ve been if she were looking anywhere but at her feet. I’d been reassured by the sight of Wrinkles, the grey seal stuffed toy I gave her, clutched tightly in her grip, her cute little pink handbag in its rightful place across her body.
She had resolutely stared down, not responding to Abigail as she tried to encourage her to get out of the car. She hadn’t even allowed her seatbelt to be unfastened. Abigail extended her hand, palm up, indicating I should speak to Nancy.
My heart squeezed for her. She must’ve been so overwhelmed – this is a huge day for her, and apart from anything, as good as our relationship has been since we met, she had to have been missing her foster parents as well as feeling apprehensive about all this change.
I thought of all the times I’d dealt with frightened, poorly children in my career, and felt a familiar calm settle over me. I didn’t speak, just crouched down so that I was at her level, and tilted my head at her. I saw her glance sideways with just her eyes, not a single, minute movement of her head in any way. That was, until she registered that it was me beside her, and her little hands jerked in my direction, asthough she wanted to grab hold of me, but was feeling too unsure.
Using my left hand, I walked my index and middle fingers up her arm until I could tickle her gently under her jaw. Her lips tilted in a small smile, so I repeated the movement. This time, her smile got bigger, and I noticed that her eyes were now fixed on me, even though her head still hadn’t moved. Changing tack, I’d walked my fingers up her short leg, clad in warm-looking, pink fleece leggings under her pink, sparkly princess dress, until I got to Wrinkles. I tickled the seal, and that precious, quiet giggle that she’s shared with me a few times over the past week or so popped out of her mouth. I grinned at her when she finally lifted her head to look at me.
“Hi,” I said, quietly, conspiratorially.
“Hi.” Her mouth forms the shape of the word, but no sound escaped her. I know she has a tendency to restrict her speech when she’s overwhelmed or anxious, so I didn’t take it personally. Besides, I can only imagine how scary this whole situation must be for her. She’s had so much change in such a short amount of time.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I said, allowing Nancy time to look me over and reassure herself of her situation. She smiled the cutestlittle smile at me, two small dimples popping in her cheeks, and then she pressed her seal toy to my lips. I kissed the seal before tickling its head. “And I’m so happy you brought this chap with you, too. Would you like to come inside?”
She’d nodded at me and reached out for me to pick her up, which took some finagling with the seatbelt to achieve, and then we were moving inside while Abigail grabbed her backpack and… the biggest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen.
A giant, pink, stuffed seal.
I placed Nancy down in the living room, leaving her with Abigail and… the seal… before heading back to the car for the last of her belongings. There was only one suitcase and a small box of toys, so I wasn’t gone for long, and now I find myself closing the door behind me and taking it all in.
Abigail is piling Nancy’s bits near the stairs and then heading to the kitchen island and setting out some paperwork, while Nancy just stands stock-still in the lounge. Her shoulders are up by her ears, hands clasped tightly in front of her, and she’s chewing down on her lip as though it’s a lifeline.
I move over to her and place her box oftoys beside her. By the time I’ve put her suitcase by the stairs as well, she’s emptied the entire box, and an explosion of primary colours has Jackson Pollocked all over my living room.
Smiling at the chaos, I leave Nancy to her play, hoping it’s a good way for her to relax, and make my way to the kitchen, where I make a cup of tea for Abigail and a coffee for myself. Abigail goes over the final paperwork, and I sign where she indicates. In less than fifteen minutes, she smiles at me and says, “Congratulations, Nash. I’m truly very happy for you.”
Shortly after, Nancy and I are waving Abigail off from the doorstep after she managed to coax a begrudging goodbye out of Nancy, who, all the while, hangs on me like a sloth clinging to a tree branch. She has her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me and her slightly bony chin on my shoulder. I couldn’t care less about the slight discomfort of her chin digging into my collarbone. My daughter is in my home, in my arms, and I’ve never been happier.
I close the door and feel Nancy relax in her whole body. I get the feeling that she didn’t quite believe she would be able to stay here with me, and the fact that Abigail has gone has proven to her that she really is staying.
I check if she wants a drink. She nodsbefore wriggling to be put down. I hope that’s a good sign, that she feels safe here. She clings to my side, but is happy enough to toddle behind me as I move to get her a small cup of milk, her toys now abandoned in the other room.
“Was that nice?” I ask, when she swallows the whole glass in one go, leaving nothing but a milk moustache. She nods again, and as I take the small beaker from her to place in the sink, I hear the most beautiful sound in the world. My daughter’s voice.
“Nice, fank you.” Her voice is high-pitched and soft and has a slight lilt to it, so her words roll into one another a little. But hearing her voice in my – no, our – home, fills me with a bubbling joy from my stomach to the top of my head. I’ve been wishing for this moment for so long that I can barely contain myself.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I say, just about managing to keep my giddiness in check.
