In the Morning (Story)

He erupted from sleep, like he had every morning for the past week. For a moment he was disoriented but when he saw the dark oak furniture and smelled the mulberry scented air freshener from behind the bookcase, he knew he was home and not at the hospital. The doctor's words came back to him—it was over, she was out of danger. Those were the exact words the doctor had told Dan and Audrey as they sat in his claustrophobic office with their hands clasped together. Dan turned towards the other side of the bed and saw that it had never been slept in. He slowly got up and went downstairs.

When his daughter Laura was a little girl, he had been tucking her in when she looked up at him with her big brown eyes and asked "Daddy, why do you love me?"
The question caught him off guard, "Because you are my little girl and all daddies love their little girls."
"But Daddy," she persisted, "Why do you love me?"
That question was on his mind when he found his daughter and his wife. Laura was awake, with her head nestled in her mother’s lap. He could tell Laura was still in a fair amount of pain from the infection that had ravaged her body, weakened by the stress, skipped meals, and little sleep she had encountered at law school. She smiled sweetly as soon as she saw him.

Audrey lay asleep against the couch, her face showing the agony she had been through. One arm was around Laura while the other hand was clasped on her girl's forearm and could not have been removed with a pair of pliers. The sun shone through the windows, creating a golden trim around them and casting dancing lacy shadows on their faces. Laura gently wrapped her arm around her mother's legs, and the ever-watchful mother, conscious of the smallest movement woke up slightly, looked down and smiled at Laura and then tenderly caressed her hair as she fell back to sleep. The scene brought tears to his eyes and it was then he knew the answer. He loved his daughter because of the dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, for her girlish silliness as well as her deep maturity, her laughter, and the sound of her voice when she sang. It was a million treasured moments over the past twenty-three years that had endeared her to his heart but...it was more than that. He loved her because she was a part of him and a part of the woman he loved. The question of “why” was irrelevant. How could you not love someone you helped create?

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Dan brought the easy chair over to the couch, and leaning over her, tenderly kissed his daughter on the forehead. He put his hand over his wife's, then leaned back and for what seemed like the first time, he slept without the fear of waking up.