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Then Zoe caught sight of him and scrambled to sit up, a look of pure amazement breaking into a smile of absolute delight. “You came again!”
The tension he had carried into this room instantly slipped away. Deep pleasure in the artless welcome from his daughter warmed his own smile. “And I brought you a present.”
He handed her the boutique bag and sat on the bed beside her, happy to watch her surprise, her eager anticipation as she removed the tissue-wrapped glass butterfly, her look of awe when the gift was revealed.
“A Ulysses!” she cried. “How did you know I wanted this one, Daddy?”
“I didn’t know.” He was amazed she knew the name of the butterfly. “I just noticed last night that you didn’t have one on your tree.”
“I saw them on TV and I asked Mummy could I have one and she said I had to wait for a special occasion.”
“Well, this is a very special occasion,” Quin assured her.
“Yes, it is!” Zoe clapped her hands with glee. “My first day with my daddy!”
Something curled around Quin’s heart and squeezed it tight.
How many first days had there been?
The day she was born…he didn’t even know her birthday!
Her first word…
Her first step…
“Do all the butterflies on your tree mark special occasions, Zoe?” he asked, working hard at keeping his tone light and interested, belying the clawing sense of loss at having been eliminated from every significant signpost in her life.
“Mmm…” She cocked her head, considering her answer. “Most of them I got when I was sick. That was when Mummy started the tree.”
Quin frowned over this information. “Were you very sick?”
“Very, very, very sick,” she replied, nodding gravely. “I had to be in the hospital ’cause I got…” She hesitated, frowning over the name given to her malady. “Mingitis,” came the triumphant recollection.
A chill ran down Quin’s spine. “Do you mean…meningitis, Zoe?”
“Yes. That’s it!” She looked pleased with his knowledge and repeated the word with careful precision. “Men-in-gitis.”
Horror struck hard. Zoe could have died. It was probably a miracle she had survived the deadly illness. He might never have known this beautiful child had ever existed. His child…lost before he had found her.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make you feel better,” he said, heaving a sigh to ease the ache in his chest.
“You were in your other world?”
“Yes.” He was intensely grateful for her simple acceptance of what he’d said last night. “I didn’t know what was happening to you. I wish I had known.”
“That’s all right, Daddy. You couldn’t help it.”
He would certainly help it from now on, Quin fiercely resolved.
“I was too sick to get out of bed when I was in the hospital,” Zoe went on. “Mummy said I was like a little caterpillar in a cocoon and I had to wait there until I was strong enough to be a butterfly, free to dance in the open air and feel beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.”
Her eyes shone with happiness. He wanted to pick her up and hug her tight but caution insisted not yet. It might be too soon for her to feel comfortable with it. He was still virtually a stranger to her, despite their blood relationship.
“Let’s find a place for the Ulysses on the tree,” she cried excitedly, throwing off the bedcovers and jumping onto the floor. With the glass butterfly being carefully carried in her little hands, she was halfway to the bay w
indow when she stopped, glancing back at him.
