All characters belong to Eve Titus and the Walt Disney Corporation. Any OCs belong to me.
As a young boy, I was told that once I too had a child of my own it would be the greatest change of my life. Of course my mother would continue to tell me this until I too was old enough to marry. In fact, up until that precise point in my life, she always dropped a hint or two hoping that I would be the one to continue the family name since my brother, William, seemed to have already been a lost cause. Now I must admit, he did court a young lady or two, but the moment marriage slipped from their lips, he rejected the idea and moved on, leaving their poor hearts broken.
The very thought of marriage and raising a family of his own never once occurred to him. Why populate the city more, he questioned once. Mother told me that his way of thinking, he got from our father. However, unlike William, my mother was able to steal his heart and made him think twice. My mother was only sixteen when she married my father while he was almost twenty-five years of age. What I never knew was that they married in secret for her parents thought that he would not be able to give her a stable life. She did not care obviously.
We lived comfortably, not the expected wealthy lifestyle my grandparents hoped for their only daughter. My father held a position of Inspector at the Yard, which paid him well for my brother and me to receive the best education money could buy. Not only that, but allow me to follow in my father's musical footsteps and learn the violin.
This however, would soon be the turning point in my life for my violin teacher had a daughter around my age by the name of Rebecca. She was just as adventurous as I was and we became close friends from there. It was not until we reached our teenage years that a light of infatuation ignited, at least for her at first. It wasn't until I was almost fifteen when her feelings for me were reciprocated. Both her parents and mine were highly aware of our love for one another, but while mine encouraged it, her mother and father tolerated it. We were soon warned that what we felt could not continue once Rebecca became of age to marry for it seemed that her background and my own clashed. If our relationship continued and I married her, she would be disowned and cut off from any future inheritance she would receive.
I did not worry, for I knew she did not care what her parents thought. Without anyone knowing, when alone, we would talk about leaving England for America; never to return. For hours we spoke about finding work in New York City long enough to save our earnings and live somewhere further north where there was nothing but countryside. We spoke about raising our family and who they would take after. They would have her beauty and my intelligence she would tell me. It almost seemed that our future was set in stone. I at least thought so.
Then came the dreadful day that even now, I would never forget when after spending most of my money I earned on an exquisite engagement ring. It was around early summer and I seventeen when I planned to ask Rebecca for her hand in marriage. I was cut short when she told me with painful eyes that she was already engaged to be married to a wealthy mouse of which I had no knowledge of. Any future between us was shot and I was left was nothing but a nearly empty purse and a painful memory of a broken heart. Since then, my parents and my own dreams of love were no longer existent.
I became quite used to my life as a bachelor. In fact, for a while, I can say I rather enjoyed it. Throughout those years, I soon became rather content, especially after I maintained residents at 221 ½ Baker Street. At that point my unofficial career as a private consulting detective was all I needed to keep myself from boredom. At least, I hoped it did. With my high of intelligence, I was brought simple cases that even Yard officials could solve them blindfolded.
As most are familiar with, it was not until my friend and associate, Dr. David Q. Dawson, came into my life that more troubled mice from all over England made their way to my door with more challenging cases. Still, there were those dozen or so that did not catch my interest. However, one in particular not only sparked my interest, but my heart. Since Paula entered my life, I was never again the same mouse I once was before her. She was my strength and my guide to all the greater chapters we have yet to face. One chapter in particular was our daughter, Sara.
I still remember that first year was nothing but sleepless nights for the both of us as our newborn cried at all hours of the night. When she was first born, I would bring her to our bedroom since Paula was still too weak to walk about. As she sat against the pillows with our little girl against her chest while she fed, I could not help but smile at the pure connection between them. Still, it was her that had to constantly remind me that these days, weeks, and months of little to no sleep would change. Consider it a phase, she told me.
A phase it did seem to be. Still, there are times even now that I wake to my four-year-old daughter crawling her way onto our bed with her doll in hand wanting protection from the monsters in her dreams. I smile that tired smile and hold her close as she drifted off to sleep with her hand as far around me as it could.
How did I help create something so beautiful, I would always ask myself while I looked down at the innocent face of my daughter? All I know is that my mother was right when she told me those many times how much a child could change you. I don't know how my life would have turned out had it not been for Sara…or Paula for that matter. It seems that they are the only two things that keep me sane from everything else in my life.
The one thing that my mother never told me however was the fear of thinking about the future. I look back at how fast time has passed since Sara came into our lives, thinking about how much of an impact she has had on us. It makes me worry. If four years could just fly on by in a blink of an eye, would I even want to think about the next four years or more? As she lies there beside me, gripping onto her doll, I suddenly had the image of her as a young teenager. Would she be like me, full of enthusiasm and rebellious; or like her mother, easy to deal with and never willing to take a risk for she knew the consequences behind any negative choice she would make? Seeing she is a spitting image of me, I would have a feeling that she would have my personality as well.
Now I cannot say that I was a troublesome teenager, but there were countless times that I went against my parents and was properly punished when I was caught. What would be the worst she could possibly do when the time comes? Would I be able to put my foot down and take what ever blow she would throw at me? Would I be able to handle hearing the words 'I hate you father' slip from her lips? So many horrid thoughts came to me.
I could then imagine her standing beside me in her white wedding dress as I walked her down the aisle where her husband-to-be stood proud, smiling brightly at his bride. In her eyes as she looked up at me, I could see nothing but pure love while I lifted her veil and kissed her tenderly on her rose coloured cheek before offering her hand to his. After their vows and 'I do's, it would hit me at that moment, watching her along side him that she was no longer a little girl. She was a bright, beautiful young woman ready to take on her new life with her husband.
Would I be ready for all that? Right now, the best I can do is block all of those fears from my mind and focus on this precise moment. I might not be ready for what will soon come our way when they happen, but mentally, I will be. I know, even now, that I cannot be that overbearing father that I want to be for what good will that do? At times I know I will have to back away and allow her to fall and get those few bumps and bruises. And like now, I will have to fight my urge to run to her as she cries herself to sleep.
After a while, the cries soon died down and that told me she was finally calmed down or had drifted off into a deep slumber. Knowing I shouldn't, I walked up the stairs to her bedroom and quietly walked in to see my little girl curled up in her small bed with her doll in one arm and her blanket in the other as she sucked silently on her thumb. Smiling softly, I kneeled down by her bedside, brushed her dirty blond hair from her face, and placed a kiss on her forehead. It broke my heart knowing that precious moments such as these would not last forever and for now I need to make them last. I sighed quietly before I rose back to my feet to head to my own bedroom, but as I did, I was soon stopped in my tracks.
"I love you, Daddy," I heard Sara say as clear as day. Turning back, sitting up in her bed, her doll and blanket still in her arms, I saw my daughter looking at me with those bright jade eyes and that warm smile that could melt even the most frozen heart.
"I love you too, sweetheart," I told her before walking back to her as she held out her arms wanting me to hug her. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she crawled onto my lap, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck as she gave me a kiss on my cheek.
"Go to sleep," I told her before getting a nod and her nuzzling herself against me. I knew that I was trapped. I could not leave until she was finally asleep. Of course I didn't mind, but I knew that I would get a light lecture from Paula once I finally made it to my own room. I chuckled softly as she yawned. Resting her head against my chest, she relaxed while I brushed my fingers through her hair. This always soothed her and helped put her to sleep. Of course, it didn't take long before I heard her soft snores, but I didn't wish to move her. Not being given much of a choice, I carefully began to move myself off the bed before laying her back onto the mattress and covering her with the blanket. Kissing her head one final time, I was able to make it out of her room and into my own with complete success.
As I lay in bed by my sleeping wife, I couldn't help my thinking of the first four years having Sara here. I could still remember the night she was born. She and Paula might have had that strong connection because she had carried her within her for nine months, but she and I shared our own connection of sharing the same date of birth. She was Paula's gift to me, a gift that I will always treasure and hold close to me. I remember her first smile, her first laugh, first time crawling, standing, and walking. Those moments in her life were so quick that it made me wonder what would have happened had I missed them. For moments like those do not last for long. This is why I am to be sure that I will forever be there to capture them.