Being home was liberating. It's one of those things where you didn't realize how much you missed something until it was right in front of you again. I never thought I would miss the bone chilling winter of London, or even the accents that everyone spoke with. It was safe to say that I missed the little things most of all.
As the week went on, I practically followed the same routine. I woke up to the smell of bacon, cooked by my father, and ate a huge breakfast with my family and soon to be family. I liked Evelyn. She was nice and not the least but pushy. She asked questions, but didn't get offended when I avoided them. She would just give me a warm smile and continue on with the conversation. I surprisingly even started to grow a liking to Will. He was rather quiet, but when he did say something the comeback made up for his quietness.
The ache of missing Lily was dulling with every day I spent at home. Sure, I missed her like hell, and every day I thought about turning my twelve day trip into an eight day one, but hearing her voice through a phone every night was enough to get me through another day. She had caught on to Ashton's constant visits- lily wasn't an idiot, and I knew she'd catch on- and she threw a fit about it, but his reassuring texts hushed my worrying for a little while. Everyone listened to me ramble on and on about her, and they seemed to like her just from what I said about her.
When I used to live in London with my father, I took up a part time job at his bakery. Working there was one of the things I actually enjoyed. It wasn't because I got paid, or even because I got free pastries. It was because of the little old women that worked there that always seemed way too happy to see me.
My favorite was Barbara. She used to tell me about her life in Germany as she rolled dough and I mopped the floors. She had a new story every day.
My father took me back to that bakery on the fifth day. I spent the majority of the twenty minute car ride wiping my sweaty palms over the fabric of my black jeans. The anticipation of going back to the bakery after all this time was making my stomach churn. I had gotten a few tattoos since the last time I was there, and I could already hear Barbara's voice giving me grief for "ruining my skin".
"Barbara's going to be thrilled to see you," my father said when we stopped at one of the stop signs. I looked over at him. He was bundled in a large coat and leather clothes covered his hands.
"I can't believe she's even still there. How old is she now? Like seventy, yeah?" I wondered.
"Seventy- two actually. Just turned a couple weeks ago."
"She should be at home," I sighed. "Not making cakes all day."
"She refuses to retire," he said simply, shrugging as he turned a corner. Snow started to fall in thick, fat flakes against the windshield leaving splatters of wetness all across the glass. "Ever since her husband died, she's spent most of her time at the bakery. She says she loves it but I think she uses the work to keep herself busy.
The rest of the ride to the bakery was silent besides the classical music that flowed through the speakers. I took a deep breath before opening the door of the bakery. The warm, crisp air hit my frozen cheeks first, and the delicious smell of baked sweets followed. A bell went off as I stepped into the place.
There was a young girl standing at the cash register, staring at me with her mouth open slightly. I didn't wait for my father to follow behind me as I made my way to the counter.
The girl had dark brown hair and a slight monobrow, and her stare was starting to make me rather uncomfortable. I cleared my throat, and she nearly knocked over the tip jar trying to collect herself.
"How can we- how are you- how can I help you?" She stuttered, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red as she stared at the wooden floor.
The bell rang again, and I didn't even need to turn around to know that it was my father.
"Hi Caroline," he waved to the girl at the counter, a warm smile covering his face.
"H-Hi Mr. Styles," she stumbled over her words, still staring at the floor.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" He was walking towards her now, taking long strides until he stood right beside her. "It's Ken."
"Sorry, Ken ," she smiled.
"Good. I see you've met my son, Harry?" He wondered, glancing back and forth between the two of us.
"Your son?" She wondered.
"Hardly. She seems rather skittish," I told him at the same time. She glanced at the floor again, and her face resembled a tomato.
"Harry," he scolded me, shaking his head which only made me chuckle a bit. "Caroline's new. Stop giving her a hard time."
"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. I didn't come here to socialize with the new girl. "Where's Barb?"
"She's, uh, she's in the back," Caroline mumbled and I quickly thanked her before shoving my hands in my pockets and making my way towards the ovens.
I was greeted by a few more people as I made my way to the person I wanted to see. Little old ladies wrapped their arms around my torso gently. They were shocked to see me, most of them thought I wouldn't ever come back.
I was directed to the dough station, even though I knew that's where she'd be. She was hunched over the dough table, a rolling pin in her hand. She was singing in German, something she did a lot when she got really into her work.
"Barbara," I sang as I strolled towards her. I could already feel the smile creeping onto my face.
She looked up, confused at first, but when she spotted me her features turned into a grin.
"Harry, my love!" She was too tiny to engulf me in a proper hug, but she still tried anyway, her short arms around my neck as she stood on her tiptoes.
"How are you?" She wondered. She held me away from her, taking me all in, a look of clear distaste on her face. "What did I tell you about the ink, boy? You're going to run out of skin!"
I stood still as she whacked me gently with her rolling pin. "I like them," I defended myself, biting back a smile. She rolled her eyes, a disapproving look on her face, and went back to rolling the dough.
I sat on one of the crates, telling her about my new life in America. I mostly talked about Lily, though, and Barbara grinned when she heard I'd met someone.
"Lillian," she spoke softly. "Pretty name, pretty girl, yes?" I nodded, pulling out my phone to show her my lock screen picture of Lily and I. "Oh! Very pretty girl."
As I slid my phone into my pocket, it started to ring- Ashton's contact picture came over the screen.
"Hey, Ash," I said, waiting to hear my daily update.
"Harry," he sounded panicked, rushed. "I don't know- I went in the apartment and she was just there- on the floor-"
I hung up, not even bothering to say goodbye to Barbara before I ran out and told my dad I needed a ride to the airport immediately.
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I took the first flight home- which was four hours from the time I got the airport. All the while my hands shaking, and my thoughts running wild. Please be okay, I thought. Please.
I landed early in the morning. Ashton was already waiting for me and I was barely in the car before he was driving away.
"How is she?" I wondered, on the verge of tears, I couldn't believe I had been gone for this.
"She's awake," he said quietly. "I stayed as long as I could before they kicked me out." I looked towards his clock on the dash- it was nearly five am.
We arrived at the hospital in ground breaking time. I didn't even think to thank Ashton before I was throwing open the door and darting towards the hospital.
It was eerily quiet. The lights were bright and nurses still moved all over re place, but the sound of patients was barely there.
"I need to find Lillian James," I said quickly to the woman at the front desk. She seemed bored as she put her fashion magazine down.
"Visiting hours are over," she said snottily.
"Look," I said, leaning over the desk. "I just took a ten hour plane ride all the way from London. I do not have the patience. Tell me where I can find my wife." Maybe it wasn't all true, but I was desperate.
Her face was white and she nodded slowly before turning to her computer. "Lillian James is in room 308. If you take the elevator up and-"
I stepped onto the elevator, its doors blocking out the sound of her voice. My hands shook the entire ride up. I desperately went from door to door- 304. 307. 308!
Lillian sat up in bed, the television illuminating the dark room. Her eyes glanced over by the door and she flashed me a smile that was enough to make my knees go weak. She was fine. She was alive. Everything was all right.
"Hi Harry," she said simply, but it was the best two words I'd ever heard in my life.
"Say that again," I breathed.
"Hi Harry," she repeated, and I wasted no time sliding into bed beside her, dotting kisses all over her face.
A/N
So there's that! I'm not really sure what Harry's dads name is so I just used the first basic name that came to mind?? Anyway, enjoy!