Forever and a Day

She shut the door and scurried to her room. Once safely inside, Daniel immediately wrapped her up in a much needed hug.

“How are you holding up?” he asked softly, gently rocking her in his arms.

“I can’t believe he’s really here,” she stammered. “I keep thinking this is a dream.”

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Everything. I mean I know I’m still processing everything but it was cathartic. I feel like we can put all the hurt behind us now and start afresh.”

“So those are happy tears making my shoulder wet?” Daniel joked.

Emily drew back and laughed at the dark patch on Daniel’s shirt. “Oops, sorry,” she said. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.

Daniel kissed her lightly. “There’s nothing to apologize about. I get that this is going to be tough. If you need to cry or laugh or shout or anything, I’m here. Okay?”

Emily nodded, so grateful to have such a beautiful human in her life. And now with her dad here, she felt like everything was really slotting into place. At last, after so many years living an unfulfilling life, she felt like she was now finally going to get to live the life she deserved.

Her wedding was only a week away. And now, for the first time, with everyone around her whom she loved, she felt truly ready for it.

Now it was time to get married.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning Emily awoke earlier than usual, feeling elated. She skipped downstairs to make breakfast, cooking up a feast of eggs, toast, bacon, and pancakes, humming happily to herself the whole while. Daniel came down with Chantelle a little while later. Emily looked at the clock as time passed, becoming worried that her father hadn’t yet made an appearance.

“Why don’t you knock on his door?” Daniel suggested, clearly having picked up on the reasons behind her furtive glances.

“I don’t want to disturb him,” Emily replied.

“I’ll do it,” Chantelle said, leaping up from the breakfast bar.

Emily shook her head. “No, you eat. I’ll go.”

She wasn’t sure what it was that was worrying her so much about disturbing her father. Perhaps it was the niggling feeling in the back of her mind that he wouldn’t be there when she knocked, that it would all reveal itself to be a dream after all.

She approached his room cautiously, then cleared her throat, feeling silly. She knocked loudly.

“Dad, I made breakfast. Are you ready to come down?”

When there wasn’t a reply, Emily felt her first jolt of panic. But she talked herself down from it. Roy might well be in the shower, unable to hear her.

She tried the handle of his door and found it unlocked. She opened it and peered into his room. His bed was empty, but there was no running water sound coming from the open en suite door, no sign of Roy at all.

Emily immediately gave up on trying to contain her fear. All at once it whooshed at her. Had she pushed him too far last night? Made him too uncomfortable to stay?

She rushed out of the room and into the corridor, then flew down the staircase into the kitchen. It was only the sight of Chantelle’s bemused blinking from the breakfast bar that prevented her from screaming for Daniel. Instead, she skidded to a halt and managed to compose herself.

“Daniel, could you give me a hand quickly?” Emily said, trying to stop her face from cracking.

Daniel looked up and frowned. Evidently he could see right through her plastered-on smile. “What with?”

“Umm…” Emily floundered. “Heavy lifting.”

“Lifting what?” Daniel pressed.

Emily blurted the first word that came into her mind. “Toilet rolls.”

Chantelle giggled. “Heavy toilet rolls?”

“Daniel,” Emily snapped. “Please. Just help me for a moment.”

Daniel sighed and got up from the table. Emily grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the corridor.

“It’s Dad,” she whispered. “He’s not in his room.”

By the change in Daniel’s expression, Emily knew it had finally sunk in why she was behaving so oddly.

“He won’t have left,” Daniel reassured her, rubbing her arms. “He’s probably wandering the grounds.”

“You don’t know that,” Emily replied. She was fully giving in to her panic now and was starting to tear up.

“I’ll check the yard,” Daniel said. “You check the house.”

Emily nodded, glad to have been given direction. Her own mind had blanked out from fear.

Daniel hurried outside and Emily took the stairs, rushing two at a time. She checked each of the open guest rooms but to no avail. Through the windows in the landing she could see Daniel out in the yard, rushing about. So he hadn’t had any luck either.

Then Emily hit on a brain wave. She ran to the end of the corridor and flung open the door to Roy’s study.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn, but the desk lamp was on, creating a spotlight effect on the surface of the wood. Hunched behind it was the unmistakable silhouette of Roy Mitchell, bent over something, tinkering.

Emily let out a huge sigh and dropped her shoulder against the door frame, letting it support her weight as the tension left her body.

“Oh, good morning,” Roy said innocently, looking up at the sound of her exhalation. “I was just fixing this.” He held up a cuckoo clock, its back door hanging open. He closed it gently and the cuckoo sprang out the front. Smiling, he set it back down. “Good as new.”

Emily’s panic disappeared and was replaced just as swiftly with happiness. Seeing her father tinkering away was odd in its familiarity. It was like he’d always been there. The sight filled her with joy.

“Are you ready for some breakfast?” Emily asked.

Roy nodded and stood up. As they went downstairs together, Emily knocked on the window of the landing where she could spy Daniel rushing around the yard. He looked up at the noise and Emily flashed him a thumbs-up sign. She watched him sag with relief.

They went into the kitchen, where Chantelle was still eating her breakfast, oblivious to the goings-on.

“Looks like you put on a feast,” Roy said, chuckling as he slid into the seat beside Chantelle.

“How did you sleep Papa Roy?” Chantelle asked. She had fallen asleep the night before in the process of cleaning her room and was only now seeing him again.

Roy poured himself a glass of juice. “Wonderfully, thank you, my dear. The bed was just as comfortable as the one I used to sleep in when this was my house.”