Love Redesigned

Holly was perennially late. She felt like she’d been running behind schedule for the past five years. She’d been late for meetings, late for friends, even late to her own birthday parties. Today was no exception, and—also no exception—the cause of her lateness: Harry.

Harry was the love of her life. He had big blue eyes and a gorgeous mop of chocolatey brown hair, plus a cheeky personality that was both charming and endearing. Holly absolutely adored him with all her heart, but the little blighter couldn’t half try her patience when she was trying to get him up
and
ready
and
off to school. Or off to anywhere for that matter. In fact, little butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth Harry was the premier culprit for Holly’s dreadful habit of running at least ten minutes late for everything. And that was on a good day.

Before Harry had come along, Holly had been the most punctual person she knew. She remembered positively suffering at the mere thought of keeping anybody else waiting on her account. Now, her lack of punctiliousness seemed to be a fixture in her genetic code, and she would be a rich woman indeed if she had a pound for every time she’d uttered the words
Sorry I’m late
over the past five years.

‘Come on, munchkin man. Where are you?’ Holly shouted up the stairs of their little two-bedroom nest. No answer.

‘You can have marshmallows on your cereal if you come down now,’ Holly called out as she stuck her head into the living room, which was devoid of a certain little man, on her way back to the kitchen. Five-year-olds seemed to have an uncanny habit of not being where she expected them to be. Well,
her
five-old did anyway. Since Harry had started at ‘big school’ (a.k.a the local village primary school) a couple of months ago, he had developed a Houdini-esque skill of disappearing out of his bedroom and reappearing unexpectedly in all sorts of places around the house. This was proving to be quite disconcerting for his poor mother’s attempts at being on time for the first time in years. Holly sensed he might be sleepwalking, but whenever she did manage to find him, Harry seemed to be perfectly wide awake—and he thought the whole hide-and-seek, find me in the airing cupboard thing was positively roll-around-on-the-floor hilarious.

‘Please, Harry. We’ll be late again and Mrs Clarke will write your name on the late board,’ Holly shouted, her volume rising as her patience started to diminish and fray.

‘The old cow will no doubt be writing
my
name in the naughty book as well,’ Holly muttered to herself as she haphazardly poured Harry’s favourite cereal of the week into a bowl.

And yet, still no Harry had appeared at the breakfast table. The marshmallows usually did the trick, but obviously not today. Holly sighed as she realised that today was going to be one of those days. She took an intake of breath as she felt herself about to finally snap and
really
shout for her son to appear before her
that instant
. However, she was beaten to her vocal workout by the doorbell chiming.

Holly thundered down her tiny hallway, miffed that the interruption was going to cause yet another delay in her already late schedule. She thrust open the door—and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Standing on her doorstep was her cute little man in his Spongebob Squarepants pajamas, clutching his toy monkey for dear life, wearing the biggest smile Holly had ever seen. Holly automatically returned his smile and felt herself melt as she crouched down to his level and enveloped him in a big hug. It took her a moment to come to her senses and realise that her five-year-old son had been outside at seven-thirty in the morning. All alone.

Holly held Harry a few inches away from her, by his shoulders, and studied his little face carefully.

‘Good morning, my little munchkin man. But what on earth were you doing outside?’ Holly asked firmly, trying to make it clear to Harry that this was a serious matter that his dimples couldn’t get him out of.

‘Nothing,’ Harry answered, giving his mum his best puppy-dog-I’m-just-a-good-boy eyes.

‘Well how did you get outside then?’ Holly asked as she eyed the catch on her front door, confirming to herself that it definitely wasn’t within the reach of such a little person.

‘I climbed out the living room window,’ Harry replied, beaming at his latest escape success.

‘You did what?’ Holly said, clearly alarmed. ‘Tell me this instant, Harry Percival, what were you doing outside in your pajamas?’ she snapped at him.

Harry clamped his mouth shut and looked at his Spongebob slippers. Holly fought the urge to shake the truth out of him, especially as they were still on the doorstep and the neighbours would no doubt see. Instead she lifted his chin up with her forefinger so that he was forced to look her in the eye.

‘I’m waiting,’ Holly said softly but firmly—a tone of voice she was having to use more and more often where Harry was concerned.

‘I was talking,’ Harry eventually replied, sensing that his mother had her really serious face on.

‘To who?’ Holly asked in her quiet, Mummy-means-business tone.

‘To my daddy,’ Harry answered confidently, as though that was the most normal thing in the world for him to say. He shrugged out of his mother’s grasp and headed off in the direction of his cereal.

Feeling more than a little unnerved, Holly slammed the front door shut and hot-footed it after her son with a million and one questions swarming around her mind like fireflies. However, when she got to the kitchen, she found herself tongue-tied and clueless as to how to proceed.

Since Harry had started at primary school, he had been asking more and more questions concerning the whereabouts of his father. Holly had deflected a lot of questions with
I’ll tell you when you’re older
, which, coupled with a sweet distraction, had seemed to do the trick. This, however, was something altogether different. Perhaps he had an imaginary friend, Holly mused to herself as she watched him slop milk all over the table.

Holly forced herself into action and started on the rudimentary task of making a cup of tea. Meanwhile, Harry began shoveling his cereal in the general vicinity of his mouth with not a care in the world. It was as though his previous words hadn’t affected him one jot.

Harry had said he’d been talking to his dad, Holly repeated silently as she watched the kettle start to boil. Harry didn’t even know who his father
was
, so that clearly wasn’t an actual truth. Holly had left the man in question pretty soon after she’d found out she was pregnant with Harry. Her ex-husband had made it abundantly clear that they had absolutely no future together that included the presence of children. Holly’s ex was not someone to be trifled with, and she’d gotten out of that relationship as fast as her legs could carry her.

So, for the entirety of Harry’s life so far, it had just been the two of them. And although she thought the inevitable questions over his father would come, she felt confident that she was all that Harry really needed.

As she poured herself a large mug of tea, Holly felt a pang of doubt enter her mind for the first time.
What if Harry is so desperate for a father figure that he’s started making stuff up? Was he imagining that his dad was really there?

Holly felt a gentle tug on her hand, which distracted her from the tea she’d been stirring for what must have been several minutes. She’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even noticed Harry had completely finished his breakfast.

‘Let’s go, Mum. We’re going to be late if you don’t get a wriggle on,’ Harry said, taking her hand and leading her towards the stairs. Holly still felt in a bit of a daze, but she followed him, trying to force herself back into a sense of urgency. The doorbell chiming again seemed to bring her properly back to Earth and she switched back instantaneously into busy mummy mode, resolving to figure out Harry’s imaginary daddy when she had a bit more time.

‘Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong,’ Harry shouted, mimicking the doorbell as he stomped his way up the stairs in a noisy boy fashion.

‘I’ll just get the door, then I’ll be up and help you do your teeth and get dressed,’ Holly called up after him.

Feeling the frenetic surge reawaken within her after her quiet reflective moment, Holly thrust open the front door, eager to get whoever it was on their way so she could get on with her day. She was already mentally back on track, thinking about her client meeting later that morning and prioritising her to-do list.

Even as she opened the door and saw who was standing there, it still didn’t fully register. But when it did, Holly immediately closed the door and cupped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from screaming out loud. She stood like that, behind the door for what must have been only a few seconds—but for Holly it felt a lot longer. Maybe he would just go away if she stood there long enough, wishing it.

Rather than the doorbell ringing again, this time there was a firm double knock that made Holly jump. So—he wasn’t going away then. Holly forced herself to take a few deep breaths, which did nothing to calm the thumping of her heart, and opened the door again.

Standing in front of her was Daniel. Daniel Madison. Harry’s father. The one and only. He was wearing his patented smirk, the familiar one she knew from years ago. The look that said he’d won. Simple as that. Daniel never lost, so Holly remembered that look plastered all over his face as something of a regular occurrence.

‘So, this is where you’ve been hiding all these years,’ he said, his voice dripping with confidence and self-assurance, as his gaze wandered past Holly into the interior of her home. Holly felt her inner lioness rear her head as she stood up just that little bit straighter, preparing herself to protect her family and home from Daniel’s prying eyes and words.

‘I haven’t been hiding, Daniel,’ she said firmly, surprising herself with the steadiness of her voice. He looked at her more closely then, giving her a full visual once-over as though he were appraising a piece of his much-loved art collection. Even though she was well and truly over him, he still had the power to make her feel uncomfortable, and she suddenly became all too aware that she was only half dressed herself. Some women might have felt comfortable enough in their skinny jeans and white tank, but Holly had always felt self-conscious about her body. Especially since she’d had Harry, she’d never felt quite dressed if she had too much skin exposed. She automatically crossed her arms, subconsciously trying to obscure her figure. However, this only served to draw attention to her elevated chest, and she clocked Daniel’s gaze drop from her face to her décolletage. Suddenly aware of her mistake, Holly stood frozen, not sure how to stand or what else to say.

‘I think we have things to talk about,’ Daniel said, filling the silence and taking a step forward as though to enter the house. Holly’s feet resembled lead at that precise moment and she was rooted to the spot, unable to move even if she’d wanted to. The net result was that Daniel stepped right into her personal space and she was powerless to do anything about it. Judging by his expression, he seemed just as surprised as she was that she hadn’t flinched or given up any ground. So there they stood, practically inhaling each other for an awkward moment, until Holly’s innate politeness took over and she reluctantly stepped aside to let him pass. Daniel rewarded her with another smirk. Yet another victory for him, Holly chided herself.

Holly closed the door and flattened herself against it as she surveyed the sight before her. Seeing the rich and successful Daniel Madison standing in her tiny hallway, with his intimidating height and broad muscular build, made the space seem twice as small. She felt the urge to grab her car keys and make a mad dash for it, but of course she couldn’t. Harry was counting on her. Harry. He’d been telling the truth. He
had
been talking to his father.

‘What can I do for you, Daniel?’ Holly asked, trying her best to sound calm.

‘Straight down to business, eh? No pleasantries, then. I’m doing fine, since you ask. Five years with no word from you after you run off with my son,’ Daniel said, the underlying venom clearly audible. Holly flattened herself even more to the door, feeling totally overwhelmed by the recent turn of events. She gave herself the luxury of taking another deep breath before she summoned her inner lioness to make another appearance.

‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that. I told you. I sent you several letters telling you about Harry and where we were. I said you were welcome to play a part in your son’s life, but I heard nothing from you. Nothing. Your silence made it blatantly obvious that you weren’t interested in being a husband to me or a father to Harry, so don’t speak to me like
I’ve
done something wrong. I’ve never once asked you for anything, so I don’t appreciate you turning up here unannounced first thing in the morning. What the bloody hell do you want?’ Holly fumed at him, giving him her best evil eye.

‘Mum, that’s naughty words,’ Harry scolded as he started to clump his way down the stairs. ‘Hi Daddy,’ Harry added, as though he’d been saying that greeting his whole life.