Four Years Later
"You came," Mary says, smiling sadly.
"Of course, I did," her father says, nudging her shoulder as he looks over towards the children. "Oh, God, she's a big girl, isn't she?"
Mary laughs softly, staring at her daughter's blonde curls and blue eyes as she chases after her older half-brother and half-cousin. "She just turned four, Dad. And Jean's thirteen."
"And the little boy?"
"Kenna and Bash's," Mary replies. "Kenna went into labour so I'm stuck babysitting Alexander." She chuckles, waving at the kids when they look over at her.
Her father nods. "How are you?"
"I'm good," Mary says. "I remember bits and pieces sometimes and I definitely have my off days but my good days outweigh the bad."
"And is he treating you well?"
Mary smirks. "Francis worships the ground I walk on, Daddy," Mary replies. Then her eyes lower to her hands. "Sometimes, I feel like the world is slipping from my grip and I can't cope. I can't leave the bed, I can't do anything but be stuck like I was when I was eighteen. I question myself, I question Francis. I try so hard, I want to move on but sometimes, I'm getting pulled back inside the water."
Her father clicks his tongue, nodding in understanding. "Mary, you must let go of the past."
"How can I when I barely remember what I'm letting go of?" She asks, confused. "I rarely have bits and pieces coming back because they're painful and Francis takes the pain away and lets me focus on the good parts but I have to try, don't I?" She sighs heavily. "Saying goodbye to Darnley wasn't enough, was it? There's always something else."
"Me," her father states, making her turn to him in shock. "All of your life, you've been trying to get to me, trying to live up to my expectations of you. You've put me on a pedestal and you don't even know me."
Mary shakes and furrows her brows. "What?" She breathes out.
James nods, giving her a wry smile. "We only got to be acquainted for six days, darling. I loved you, you were my first and only daughter. A daddy's girl from the moment you left your mother's womb. James had seven years with me but you only had six days and they weren't enough."
"No, they weren't," she says softly, her eyes shimmering with tears. "I wanted more."
"So, you tried to kill yourself."
She tuts, averting her gaze as she looks at the children. "I always felt safe whenever you held me. Not even Mum could calm me down on my good days, she told me. If you were around, I wouldn't have done that. Hell, I wouldn't have even been with Darnley. We'd be happy and you'd walk me down the aisle and be there for the birth of my kids." She's sobbing now, mentally cursing herself for being such a goddamn mess but her father takes it in his stride, taking her hand in his larger, warm one.
"'Daddy, I'm coming. Wait for me'," he says softly. "Your words, word by word."
"I wanted the pain to stop," she says, wiping at her eyes angrily.
"And did it?"
Mary shakes her head. "Made things worse."
"You think I have the magic touch or something. That I could make things better with one touch, one thought," her father continues. "The man you barely knew, heard stories of, mourned the relationship you'd never get to have, the moments in your life that will go unwitnessed by him. Now, there's a new man in your life and he's your future. I'm your past, leave me there and take from it only when necessary otherwise you'd be dragged back and your bad days will be worse."
"But, Daddy-"
"Francis and those kids of yours, are your future," James continues. "Focus on that."
Mary shakily takes a breath and nods. "Okay," she whispers. "I will."
His hand goes to her bump and they share a smile. "It's a boy."
Mary lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes playfully. "You and Francis think alike."
"Trust us on that one," he replies, chuckling. "I've got to go now."
She looks down at his hand. "I love you," she croaks out. "And I miss you, Daddy."
"I love you and miss you too. Always," he says before she wakes up.
She sits up in the bed, sighing heavily as she lovingly rubs her bump. After an hour, Francis wakes up, his hand immediately going on top of hers. She looks down in surprise before a smile settles on her lips and she chuckles, looking down at their hands.
"We should name him 'James'. After my dad," she says softly.
"Finally admitting defeat?" Her husband asks teasingly.
Mary scoffs, smacking his chest lightly. "Sure," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "What do you think?"
"I think, it's a good idea. And it begins with 'J' which is good because we have Jean..." Francis says before he chuckles when he hears their daughter call out for him. "One would think she isn't jealous of the new baby."
Mary snorts now. "Go and sort her out then," she says, almost kicking him out of bed.
Before he leaves, he asks, "Did Bash call with an update?"
Mary picks her phone from the bedside table and grins, showing him the text. "A girl."
Francis beams, coming over to kiss her lips. "Annie will be so happy. I'll tell her, Xander and Jean the good news."
"Hurry back," Mary says. "I need a foot massage."
"Anything," he starts, kissing her lips softly. "For you. What do you think today's going to be?"
Confident and assured, Mary says, "A 'green' day. Definitely."
She feels more alive than ever. More assured and certain than ever. Her life is complete, the brokenness of her heart mended as she finally decides that letting go of her father's lack of presence would be good for her. For her marriage, for her children, for her life.
"You know what?" She asks her husband. "Bring the kids over. I want to snuggle them, spend time with them before the baby comes."
Francis grins. "That's a great idea. I'll be right back with them," he says before he heads out their bedroom door.
Rubbing her bump, Mary swears she hears, "Well done, darling," echo in her ears.
A smile graces her lips. "Thanks, Daddy..."
