Daddy's Little Princess

Time went slowly, Oliver was the only one remaining in the room, waiting for his daughter. Isabella went into hysteria and Eva took her to the cafeteria to get some coffee.

Oliver had been waiting, impatiently for the doctor to come back with news of his daughter.

It wasn’t till an hour later, the doctor from before entered and Oliver immediately stood up.

“Is she okay, please say she’s okay?” Oliver says frantically.

“She’s recovering, the swelling finally reduced and air is now getting to her lungs. The anisthesetic has knocked her out a bit, so she’ll be asleep for a few hours, probably till tomorrow.” the doctor tells him.

Oliver almost started to cry again. “Oh thank god, thank you, thank you.” Oliver says, hugging the stranger. The doctor was shocked, but accepted the hug.

“You’re welcome Mr. Jenkins.”

Oliver wiped his eyes, as tears had caught him off guard. Within 10 minutes, Francesca was wheeled in and transferred to a proper bed, where Oliver tucked her in. The nurses had to put IV drips in, and a ventilator was still needed but Oliver was just relieved to see her.

“Oh my little girl.” Oliver whispers softly, as the nurses left as Oliver stroked Francesca’s head softly, her little curls in tact. She was pale, a few blotchy patches on her face from the rash, but she still looked beautiful, she was still perfect. Her lips were swollen still, and her face still looked slightly puffy but Oliver couldn’t have care less, as she was alive and that’s all that mattered.

Oliver brought his chair right up beside bed, and took Francesca’s little warm hand, and held it between his hands, stroking the top of her hand with one of his.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispers, she probably couldn’t hear him but he didn’t care. He carried on talking to her.

“I’m so sorry I left you with her, I swear to god Frankie, I’ll never leave you again, I promise.” Oliver whispers, a croak in his throat.

“I love you, so much and no matter how much I get angry, I always love you.” Oliver says, his nose stinging and a lump forming in his throat.

“I’m so-” Oliver stops, as tears drop from his eyes. The even thought of his little girl to have died sent him enough to tears. Oliver was a tough guy but in reality, Francesca was his weakness, his huge, weakness.

“Sorry.” Oliver says finally and that’s when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, as he allowed the tears to fall, he allowed himself to cry, of relief that his daughter was alive.

“My little princess.” Oliver whispers, sniffling lightly. He stroked her head again, feeling the warm, tender touch of her skin. He traced his thumb over her cheek, listened to her breathing.

Guilt swamped Oliver as he watched her, his tears drying on his cheeks, his eyes itchy from tears.

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May. I guess you’d say ‘what can make me feel this way?’ My girl, my girl, my girl, talking about my girl. I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.” Oliver sings in a whisper, so softly.

He sings it again and again, wishing to see his daughter’s eyes again. He sighs softly, leaning back in his chair, keeping her hand on top of his.

“I love you, my girl.” Oliver whispers, leaning back and allowed the exhaustion to take over.

---

“Oliver! Ollie, wake up!” Oliver was shaken and his eyes were blurry until they finally focussed on the familiar face of Jamie, his best friend.

“Jay?” he yawns, confused.

“What the hell happened?” Jamie whispers, and Oliver’s eyes recollects last night. He immediately shoots up, seeing Francesca, turned on her side, sucking her thumb and sleeping peacefully.

“Outside.” Oliver mouths and the two men quickly leave the room, just outside where the corridor was busy, it was day time again.

“Where’s Eva?” Oliver immediately asks.

“She’s at the flat, she’s picking up some stuff for you and Frankie, Isabella is with her. Now tell me, what happened?” Jamie says.

“Isabella was an irresponsible-” Oliver was about to rant.

“Francesca? Is she okay?” Jamie demands, he loved Francesca too.

“Yeah, she’ll be okay. It was a severe allergy. Pistachio nuts.” Oliver briefly says. Jamie nods, understanding.

“Oh my god, I just heard. I came round the flat this morning, none of you were in. Eva was coming up the stairs and so was Izzy. They told me some of what happened. I got here as fast as I could.” Jamie says quickly. Oliver pats his shoulder.

“Thanks man.” he whispers faintly, and glances into the room. She was still asleep.

“You okay?” Jamie asks, and Oliver shrugs.

“Jamie?” Oliver asks, and his best friends now, looking him the eyes. Oliver sighs tiredly.

“I’ve just been through hell, my daughter almost died yesterday. I’ve been through hell okay? So please, make sure…no one else asks me if I’m okay. Please.” Oliver asks coldly, and Jamie nods, giving an apologetic smile.

“Sorry.” he adds and Oliver nods.

“I’m going back in, mind getting me some water or something?” Oliver asks and Jamie nods, already stepping away to get the beverage. Oliver goes back into Francesca’s room and takes his seat again, holding her hand and watches her for a while, it was grey and wet outside and it reflected into the room. It was plain and bland, which made Oliver’s emotions feel worse.

“Please, Frankie. Wake up.” Oliver begs faintly, and looks at her, wishing that she would open her eyes. Oliver leans forward, and plants a soft kiss on her head.

“In the fairytales Frankie, doesn’t the princess wake up when her Prince kisses her?” Oliver asks, remembering a particular story of Francesca’s bedtime story collection.

Oliver sighs and turns his head and looks out the window, bleak and miserable, exactly how Oliver felt.

“It worked, Daddy.” a croaky, tired little girl’s voice says. Oliver looks back at her in shock, staring at her. His eyes wide, his mouth dropped.

“Frankie?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“Daddy.” Francesca replies and Oliver immediately stands up and kisses her.

“Oh Frankie.” he whispers with relief, hugging his daughter, who clung to him. Francesca breathed in her father’s scent and suddenly in tears. She was scared and didn’t know what was going on. Oliver sat at the side of the bed, and held his crying daughter, reassuring her that’s its okay.

“Daddy.” she cries softly, and Oliver had never been so relieved, so happy to hear that magic word.

His daughter was alive, and he thanked god continuously.