A Father Beyond Compare

by Alison Roberts

  The cleaner was moving at speed. Emma found a mop aiming for her feet. The woman grinned at Emma. 'Don't let me interrupt, love,' she instructed. 'I'd say yes if I was you. He's got a nice smile.'

  Tom had the best smile in the world. And Emma had no intention of saying anything but yes. Or maybe she did.

  'Of course I'll marry you,' she said. 'I love you, too, Tom.'

  For the first time since Mickey had been admitted, Emma left the hospital grounds that night after he'd fallen asleep.

  She went home. With Tom.

  Where she belonged.

  Being in his bed, in his arms, had never been so wonderful. There was a new depth that could only have been added by the stress of recent events and by the absolute closure of any space between them engendered by that rift.

  Tom pulled Emma a little closer, which she would have thought impossible the way their bodies were still entwined in the aftermath of their love-making.

  'Do you know, it was the first time I heard you laugh that I really fell in love with you?'

  'I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you smile,' Emma replied. 'Except I convinced myself that I was just really grateful for everything you'd done for us and that you were a really kind person and I shouldn't read anything more into it.'

  'You couldn't afford to read any more into it until you knew where you stood with Simon. Things were already complicated enough.'

  'No. I think I was just blind.' Emma snuggled happily in Tom's arms and sighed with deep contentment. 'Not any more, though. Mickey could see it all along.'

  'See what?'

  'That there wasn't any good reason for you not to be his father.'

  She could feel Tom smiling in the darkness. His tone was as contented as Emma felt.

  'He did sound pretty sure, didn't he? About who he wanted for a daddy?'

  'He sure did.'

  'We'll look after him together, Em. He'll get through all this and then there won't be any stopping that young man.'

  There wasn't. Mickey made such a good recovery after his head injury that his surgeon relented on the time frame to let him become mobile again and three months later he was in an intensive physiotherapy programme, with Phoebe cheering him on.

  Six months later, he was walking without crutches. He would still need callipers for a while yet but he wasn't bothered.

  The long trousers he got to wear to his mum's wedding hid the walking aids in any case. And Max was there beside him, with a big white ribbon around his neck, just in case Mickey needed any support.

  Phoebe was a bridesmaid and she looked just as proud as Emma when Mickey stepped forward with the little velvet cushion that had the rings on top of it, because he managed to carry out the task without tipping them off and it had taken a lot of practice to get his balance that good.

  Tom's mother had a very damp handkerchief clutched in her hand and told anyone who wanted to listen that, while Mickey would always be her first grandchild, she couldn't help but be very excited that he was going to have a sibling next year. She was hoping it would be a little sister.

  And the bride and groom? For the most part, they had eyes only for each other and everybody who attended that ceremony smiled when they talked about it.

  'They're just so in love with each other,' they invariably finished by saying.

  'It was magic.'

  Tom and Emma had known that all along.