Raising Daniel

2

The wedding dress hung on the back of the bathroom door, and Hannah sat on the floor with her head in the toilet. Up til that moment, the day had been perfect. It was easy to forget just how sick she was, especially when she looked so well. She had probably been desperate to be sick all day long, but had managed to hold until we got up to our room. And it was hard to tell why she was being sick. Was it the baby, the illness or the treatment?

'Do you need me to get anything?' I asked her. She always said no, but still I asked. I sat on the edge of the bath and rubbed her back.

'Sorry Dan.' Her voice echoed off the toilet bowl.

'Hey, don't be silly. What's a wedding without someone throwing up at the reception?'

'I thought it would be you.' She laughed. We had gone back to our hotel room for an hour to get changed and for Hannah to rest. The girls were being taken care of by my parents downstairs in the hall where the music and dancing continued without us.

I loosened my tie and kicked off my shoes. I was never one for formalwear. Hannah must've felt better getting that corset off. It had been fitted a few weeks before, but with her stomach growing every day, it had already become too small.

After a few minutes she sat back against my legs, the sickness finally gone, resting her head on my knee with her eyes closed. I stroked her hair, enjoying the softness between my fingers. I knew she'd be fast asleep within minutes.

'It was perfect, wasn't it?' I asked her. She nodded. I lent down and kissed her forehead. She felt cold against my lips. Without a word, I'd lifted her up effortlessly. She was as light as a feather. I laid her down on the bed, grabbing extra blankets to drape over her. I curled up beside beside her, watching her sleep peacefully.

I felt an overwhelming sadness wash over me. I'd managed to keep it bottled up so far. But here we lay on our wedding day, in our honeymoon suite, Hannah too tired to enjoy her own reception, and I couldn't help but feel sad. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I remembered the first time we met and how I felt. How I still felt.

She took my breath away. I know it's cliche, but from the very second I laid eyes on her from across the club at our record company's Christmas party, I knew I had to speak to her. I had never been good with girls. I'd never even had a serious relationship before. I was 27 years old and painfully shy. I could sing in front of 25,000 people, but talking to one pretty lady sent my palms sweaty and my heart racing. But somehow with her, I felt confident, for a whole minute. She drew me in without even knowing it.

'Excuse me?' I said loudly above the music from behind her, but she hadn't even noticed me. She was too busy talking to her friend. I felt my confidence drop through the floor. But I had to do this. I had know her name. I bobbed awkwardly, trying to grab her attention. I repeated myself, but louder and stupidly tapping her on the shoulder.

'Hello.' She smiled politely. I saw her exchange a look with her friend. It felt like a 'who is this idiot?' look. Her blond hair shimmered under the lights.

'So, what brings you here?' I don't know why I said it. I hadn't thought this far ahead.

'I work here, you know, like you do?' She laughed a little, not at me, in a pity sort of way.

'Of course you do. Yeah.' I ran my hand through my hair, a quirk I'd been told I did when I was nervous. I had to think of something to say to her now. It felt like minutes passing but it must've been half a second. But she spoke first.

'You're Dan, right?' Her eyes. They were so blue and beautiful. And now I was closer I could see even her skin was flawless. I was struck by the way she said my name.

'Yes. How-?'

'I'm in charge of public relations, I'm the one who books your tv shows, gigs, stuff.'

'Really, then how haven't we met before?'

'She's shy.' Her friend piped in.

'I'm not shy.' She said quickly and gave her friend a tap on the arm. 'I'm a busy woman. And I've only worked there a few months.'

'You're very beautiful.' I blurted out. I immediately regretted saying it. I wanted, no, I needed the ground to open up beneath me. But instead of being offended by my weird, uncalled for statement, she blushed.

'Thank you.' She now seemed lost for words too. I couldn't think of anything else to say. My mind, normally so full of music and lyrics and poetry, had gone blank. I'd forgotten how to think. We stared at each other expectantly for another moment. She had turned red. I wondered if she got complimented often? She should do. She was probably the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Which only made me feel like a stupid little man child.

'I, erm, I, yeah.' I stammered.

'Dan, would you like to buy me a drink?' She offered.

'Yes! Yes I would love to buy you a drink.' She was giggling as she watched my fumble in my pocket for my wallet. All I had to do next was drop all my loose change on the floor and it would officially be the worst pick up ever.

'Would you like to know my name?' She hinted strongly. How could I not have already asked? I'd been so thrown by her. I nodded. 'Hannah.' She held out her hand. I felt too scared to take it. I'd probably break it. Then I remembered my sweaty palms. I quickly, but probably not slyly, wiped it on my black jeans. She continued to giggle as we shook. 'Nice to meet you.'