Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your support is lovely and encourages me to carry on. Decided to add this footnote to the Olive drama, I hope you enjoy it. Also thanks to the new follows and favs and to everyone who's reading this fic.
Teresa switches off the water feeling relaxed and very happy. Her shower has been long and hot, she's luxuriated in the peace and calm of standing still under the rainwater option and letting it fall on her. This is the first time since Olive became ill. For so many days, if she got a shower at all, it was in the meagre offerings at the hospital, taken quickly to get back to her daughter. But she's spent her first night at home, it hasn't been an easy night, she's had a hard time settling back into her own cot, but Patrick, despite her protests, insisted on answering her cries, so she could sleep, he would catch up in the morning. She suspects he didn't get a lot during the night and knows that he doesn't mind one bit.
She wraps her hair in the towel and steps into the bedroom.
"Woman cover yourself up, we have a guest."
Teresa smiles as she finds her delicious husband sprawled across the bed, he's put on a pair of boxers after their 'sleep sex' before getting out of bed. Laying on his side, he's propping his head up with his arm, while nestled up against him is their beautiful, healthy daughter, matching her husband wearing only her diaper, her legs are stuck up in the air, her arms outstretched as she tries to reach them. Patrick has her feet in his other hand trying to help the process.
Olive had only just discovered her feet a few days before getting ill, tears jump to her eyes as an image of Olive in the incubator, on a respirator, sedated and unable to acknowledge their presence, sweeps across her mind. She thrusts it aside and moves towards the bed.
"Hi Sweetheart."
Olive turns her head towards her mother's voice and her beautiful smile takes over her face, finishing Teresa off, a tear bubbles over. She lays down on the bed mirroring Patrick's pose. She feels his hand float gently up her arm and he cups her face, his thumb wiping away the tear. She looks at him and knows he's feeling the same way. He coughs as he tries to speak, the emotion catching in his throat.
"My two favourite girls, my favourite place to be."
She kisses him softly on the lips.
"You're suppose to be sleeping."
He shrugs and looks down at Olive.
"Someone had other ideas."
There's no hint of regret in his voice.
A gurgle captures their attention, Olive's legs are stretched up once more, and she's moving her head from side to side, looking at her parents. They each instinctively take a foot and gently stroke it with a thumb. The stay there for a while, lying close together, surrounding their daughter in love and safety, listening to her chatter away in an indecipherable language meant only for them.
