Takes You

by Nicola C. Priest

  It’s another thirty minutes before the nurse comes and tells us we can see Crissie. She returned to take Hope to the nursery twenty minutes ago, giving us enough time so that everyone here could hold her and get their first cuddle.

  When I reach Crissie’s room, the doctor is outside waiting for me, and I instantly get a bad feeling.

  “Caleb, it’s good to see you again. How is your little girl?”

  “She’s perfect, doctor, thank you. How’s Crissie?”

  “I wanted to speak with you before you go in to see her. There were some complications during the C-section that resulted in Crissie losing a lot of blood. Her heart stopped once, but we were able to restart it pretty quickly. We managed to stop the bleeding, and provided there are no further issues, she should make a full recovery.”

  Her heart stopped? I could have lost her? Now that we have little Hope, the thought of losing Cris is twice as painful as it was before. The thought of our daughter growing up without her mother is a pain I don’t ever want to experience.

  “Now, I know her oncologist wanted to start the treatment for her cancer as soon as possible, but right now, she’s too weak to handle another surgery. We’ll continue to assess her condition and shall start treatment as soon as we can, but right now, what she needs the most is to rest.”

  “I understand, doctor. Has she seen our daughter yet?”

  “Yes, she did briefly, shortly after she was delivered. If you like, I can ask the nurse to bring her to her room, so you can both spend some time with her?”

  “That would be good. Thank you, doctor.”

  When the doctor smiles and walks off down the corridor, I open the door to Crissie’s room. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her in a hospital bed attached to monitors, but it’s a sight I’ll never get used to seeing. As I approach, she sighs and turns her head towards me.

  Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing steadily. It looks like she’s sleeping, so I decide not to wake her. Instead, I just sit in the chair by her bed and watch her sleep. She looks pale and fragile, and I feel an overwhelming urge to protect her. I reach out to take her hand, and when I do, her eyes flutter open and her lips tilt up in a small smile.

  “Hey you. How are you feeling?” I ask her as I pull the chair closer and place and soft kiss on her cheek.

  “Tired, and sore.” She pauses and winces when she tries to push herself into a sitting position. “Where is she? Where’s our baby?”

  I hear the panic in her voice as she looks around the room.

  “It’s okay, Cris. The doctor has gone to ask a nurse to bring her in. She’s been in the nursery. Crissie, she’s beautiful. Our little Hope is finally here, and she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I see the relief swamp Crissie as she bursts into tears. Moving quickly, I sit by her on the bed and gently pull her into my arms as she cries on my shoulder.

  “It’s okay, baby.” I hold her for several minutes before I hear a gentle knock on the door, seeing the nurse peering in through the small window. I nod to let her know it’s okay for her to come in, and when she does, she’s pushing a small cart. I see the bundle of pink before Crissie does, but when she lifts her head and her eyes connect with our daughter, the smile that spreads across her face fills my heart with more love than I ever thought possible.

  The nurse wheels the cart around to the side of the bed as Crissie watches, never taking her eyes off our daughter. When the nurse carefully picks her up, I move from the bed so Crissie can shift as the nurse places Hope against her chest. I watch my wife holding my daughter as the nurse leaves the room.

  These two girls are the most important things in my life. Nothing will stop me from doing everything I can to keep them safe.

  I see the tears slipping silently from Crissie’s eyes as I sit beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulder.

  “She has your eyes, Cal.”

  “My mum said the same thing,” I say with a smile.

  “I love her so much. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much, Cal. I can’t believe we made something so perfect.”

  “I know, baby. We did good.”

  “I love you, Cal.”

  I return her words with a soft kiss to her lips before she turns back to Hope. All I can do is watch them, my heart almost stopping when Hope grabs hold of my finger. I always thought it was a myth when they said the moment your child grabs your finger for the first time, you realise everything in your life has changed. I now see everyone who ever said that was right. Crissie and Hope are my world. Nothing else matters now. As long as they’re with me, I can do anything.

  “Cal, can you take her, please? I don’t feel well.”

  I’m shaken out of my thoughts by her words and take my daughter from her arms just in time to see Crissie’s eyes roll back into her head as she falls against the pillows. The machines she is attached to start to beep madly, and before I can call out for help, the door slams open and I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses.

  I move to the back of the room as they gather around Crissie. The noise is so loud, Hope starts crying, and I instinctively start rocking her to try and calm her down. Before I know what’s happening, a nurse is taking my arm and ushering me out of the room.

  The last words I hear are ones that chill me to the bone.

  “We’re losing her.”

  Chapter 53

  Six weeks later

  “Hey, Mum. Are you ready to go?”

  “Just need to grab my bag and then we’re good to go.”

  I watch as she hurries around the room, stuffing everything she comes across into her black bag before slinging it over her shoulder. I swear she thinks she’s Mary Poppins and that bag is bottomless. With the amount of stuff she’s throwing it in, I’m starting to think it might just be.

  When she starts heading over towards me, I breathe a sigh of relief, exaggerating it for my mum’s benefit, before I pick up Hope’s car seat and head towards the door. Mum opens it for me and I walk down the path to my car, shifting Hope into the crook of my elbow as I open the rear driver’s side door.

  I’m a pro at fixing Hope into the car now. For the first few weeks, it took me several attempts to get the damn thing fastened correctly. I’ve lost my temper more than once and had to stop myself from blowing up. Now, I’ve done it so often I can do it in my sleep.

  “Is everyone else meeting us there?”

  I nod at my mum as I secure Hope’s blanket around her after checking the restraints one more time. I’m almost OCD about making sure everything is fastened correctly and tightly. No matter how many times I check, I always have to do it one more time, just in case I missed something the previous dozen or so times.

  Eventually, I drag myself away and close the door before climbing into the driver’s seat. It only a short drive to our destination, and we’re there within ten minutes. I park the car and can see a crowd of people waiting for us. A lump forms in my throat when I see how many people are here, and it takes me a few moments before I can get out of the car.

  By the time I do, I see my mum has already unbuckled Hope and is holding her granddaughter in her arms as she waves her arms around, something she only started doing this week.

  Reaching out, I take Hope from my mum and walk over to the crowd of people, accepting brief hugs and kisses off everyone as we walk. Even though Hope is almost six weeks old, people still coo over her like she was born only yesterday. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my little girl loves the attention as she laughs and bats her lashes at them.

  We continue walking for five minutes until we come to where we need to be. The crowd gathers in a large circle as I look down and feel the tears fighting to break free as I read the inscription engraved into the highly polished black granite:

  Crissie Elizabeth Roberts

  15 August 1989 ~ 17 February 2018

  Beloved Wife to Caleb

  Adoring Mother to Aria and Hope

  Loving Daughter to Matth
ew and Diane

  Miss You Always, Love You Forever

  Epilogue

  Eighteen years later

  I can’t believe my baby girl is eighteen today.

  She’s not a baby anymore, and she hates it when I call her that, but she allows me to continue. It’s been my pet name for her practically since the day she was born, and no matter how old she gets, it will always be my name for her.

  I wait for her to emerge from her bedroom as I drink my tea, glancing across at the TV when a familiar name flashes across the screen. I turn to give the news report my full attention, my ears not quite believing what they're hearing.

  "Washford had been convicted of three counts of rape in 2019, having been acquitted of rape and sexual assault the previous year after a jury found the evidence against him to be insufficient. It is not yet known who took it upon themselves to end his life, but one thing's for sure, this woman, and all women across the country, can sleep peacefully now that this sexual predator is no longer among us."

  My chest feels tight as I watch the TV, the realisation that the man who attacked Crissie and my sister is now dead. I was brought up to value all human life, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of hundreds of ways I could make that man pay for almost ruining the lives of two of the women I care most about in this world.

  Crissie hadn't been with us when the bastard who almost raped her went to trial, and part of me is glad she wasn't around to see the charade that is our judicial system, fail her. It would have broken her all over again. She was a strong woman—had to be with everything we went through—but I knew Crissie better than anyone. She would have struggled to cope, had she been here, to see him walk free from that court.

  Picking up the remote control, I switch off the TV and turn back to waiting for our daughter to make her grand entrance. Not for the first time this morning, my mind wanders to the past, and I can’t help but imagine what Crissie would be doing today. She’d probably be rushing around decorating the house before Hope got up. Fixing banners to the walls and attaching balloons to every surface that would hold them.

  Crissie would be so proud of the young woman our daughter has become. She has my eyes—so everyone says anyway—but in all other ways, she’s the mirror image of her mother, with the same kind heart and infectious laugh. She’s clever too. She got straight A’s in all her GCSE’s and repeated the feat in her A-Levels. In six months time, she’s off to university to study medicine. Yes, Crissie would be one proud momma bear.

  Hope will be studying at Chester university. She told me it was the best place for the course she wants to study, but I have a feeling it’s because she doesn’t want to leave me alone. Being a single parent hasn’t been easy. We’ve had our ups and downs, our screaming matches and an equal number of crying sessions, but the bond between Hope and I has never been stronger.

  Losing her mum at just twenty-eight years old was hard; probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. The fact it was on our wedding day and Hope’s birthday, made it even harder. We never did find that miracle cure I’d dreamt about. When she flatlined in that hospital bed, my heart stopped with hers. Watching the doctors and nurses working on her as I cradled Hope to my chest almost broke me.

  The doctors had said it was a cardiac arrest, and her body was just so weak from the C-section and her cancer that there was nothing they could do to save her.

  Once the funeral service and memorial were over, I started the process of living my life without her. It took me several months to even contemplate getting back to normal, and if it hadn’t been for the support of my parents and Crissie’s parents, I don’t think I would be here now.

  I’m pulled out of my melancholy when I hear Hope’s bedroom door open and her feet on the stairs. It took me a while to get used to having stairs. The flat Cris and I lived in was on the ground floor, so everything was on one level. That place held so many memories of Crissie and me that I hadn't wanted to leave. It was my mum who eventually convinced me that my memories of Cris were in my head and I would always have them, no matter where I live.

  Hope had just turned one when we moved into the house we now call home. It's just outside Chester and, while it's not big, it suits us just fine. Hope and I have made this little two-up two-down our home. I know Crissie would have loved it here.

  As I wait for Hope, I check everything is in place. The birthday breakfast I’ve prepared includes her favourite: pancakes with maple syrup, a glass of orange juice and a peppermint tea. I hope she doesn’t have to run off too early. I know she has plans with Craig, her boyfriend, today, but I’m hoping she has at least a couple of hours to spend with her old dad.

  When she walks through the door, I’m briefly taken back to the first time I saw Crissie. She really is the spitting image of her mum, and, in a way, I’m grateful for that. I’ll never forget Crissie. How could I? But having Hope makes what we had together last long after she left our lives.

  “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” I stand from my place at the breakfast bar and walk over to her. She gladly accepts my hug as her arms wrap round my back and I kiss her on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  She has always called me daddy. Even now, at eighteen, she still does, and part of me hopes she always will. Even though she’s an adult now, she will always be my little girl.

  “I made your favourite breakfast, and, as requested, I’ve transferred some money into your account, so you can spend it as you like.”

  At the sound of money, her eyes light up and she smiles at me, giving me another hug before sitting at the breakfast bar and pouring a glass of orange juice. I watch as she devours the food I’ve prepared for her, wanting her to keep eating, knowing that when she finishes, there’s something I need to give her, something I’m not sure what her reaction will be.

  I finish my cup of tea just as Hope finishes hers, and she leans back, her hands on her belly.

  “Thanks for that, Dad. That was great, as always.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie.” Here goes nothing. “Hope, I have something for you. It’s from your mum.” I watch as her eyes sweep to me and her expression softens. Hope never knew her mum, but our families have done all we can to keep her memory alive and have told her stories of our time together.

  There are photographs all over the house, including one I snapped quickly with my phone, in the hospital when Crissie held Hope for the first time. We’ve made sure Hope knows the kind of woman her mother was, and that she will never forget her.

  “A few weeks before she died, your mum took out a safe deposit box. In it, she left this.” I take the envelope out of my back pocket and put it on the table. On the front are two words: ‘My Daughter’. “She left a note with it to say this was to be given to you on your eighteenth birthday.”

  Hope looks at the envelope for a few moments before reaching out, resting her fingertips on the paper. Her eyes are filling with tears, and I see her swallow a few times before she speaks. “This is from Mum?”

  Hearing her voice break as she fights tears makes me want to hug her tightly. Crissie left a letter for me, too, and I remember crying for hours after I read it. She told me she loved me, and that I was the first, and will be the last man she ever loves. She said that if she didn’t make it, she trusted me to look after our daughter and bring her up with the same values that made her fall in love with me in the first place.

  As I read it, only three weeks after her death, I remember thinking she had been preparing for the worst and hadn’t said a thing to me. At the time, I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me how she was feeling, but as time went on, I realised she had just been thinking of me and not wanting to hurt me.

  That was my Crissie, always thinking of others before herself.

  “Yes, sweetie. I don’t know what it says, but knowing your mum as I did, it’s something you’ll want to read. I can leave you alone if you want? She left me one, too, and I was a blubbering mess by the time I�
�d finished reading it.”

  I give her a small smile as she picks up the envelope and gently brushes her fingers across her mother’s handwriting. She takes a deep breath and looks at me.

  “No, can you stay while I read it?”

  “Of course I can, baby girl.”

  She nods as she takes another breath before tearing open the envelope and taking out the piece of paper. I can see Crissie’s handwriting on the paper and take a shaky breath. Memories of the time I spent with Crissie are never far from the surface, but most of the time I am able to put them to one side for the sake of getting on with my life without breaking down every five minutes. I need to stay strong for Hope.

  When Hope starts speaking, I reach out and she grabs my hand, holding on tightly.

  Dear Hope,

  Yes, you’re not even here and I know your name. Your dad and I agreed on it when you were only a few months old. After everything your dad and I went through, it seemed a fitting name.

  Anyway, as much as I hope this isn’t true, you’re reading this on your eighteenth birthday and I’m not there to see the wonderful woman you’ve become. How do I know how wonderful you are? Well, that’s easy, because your dad raised you. Hope, I can’t begin to tell you how much the thought of leaving your dad alone to raise you hurts me, but I know he will do a fantastic job.

  Your dad is the only man I’ve ever loved, and I can only pray that you find yourself a man who treats you like a princess, because that’s what you deserve, baby girl. Don’t settle for anything less than a man who puts you first. I was so lucky when I found your dad. Not every girl finds their prince on the first go, but I did. I know you'll find your prince, too, baby.

  You probably know from your dad that I was sick before you were born. You never know when the big guy upstairs is going to take you, so if I die before I get to know you, know that I love you, Hope. I love you so much it actually hurts. I never understood how people could love something with that much devotion, but you’re still in my belly and I already know I would do anything for you.