Rapidly again I shake my head in utter disgust. I feel horrible. My dad eyes off Harry and vice versa.

I see my dad growing even more frustrated. This has not been easy on him either. I am an only child and he is my rock, my hero, my reason for existence. My mother left when I was first diagnosed which was six weeks old. So pretty much it's been dad and I sine the beginning.


"You have not even tried."

I look down to the eggs Benedict, and they look horrible, good choice Harry.

"Come on, one bite." Harry nudges me. Great more pity,

"Don't make me feed you." My dad challenges. "You wouldn't." I protest.

He raises his eyes. Shit his serious. I pick up my fork and cut a bit of the poached egg, add some sauce and pop it in my mouth. I munch slowly and the slimy texture agitates me but I proceed. I munch more and to much surprise it's ok. I pick up the knife and cut the bread, add some egg, ham and some more sauce and eat some more.

A wave of relief washes over my dad and I can feel Harry's smile burn.


"So whats on for the day?" He sweetly asks, I wait till I finish my mouth of food and answer.

"Well we just got here, so after breakfast we need to cure the jet lag with some sleep and then we will figure out the rest from there." I say and eat some more.

"How long you here for?"

"La, one week, followed by a week in New York and last leg will be five days in Hawaii." I conclude.



"Amazing." He smiles.

---

"I am so full." I am proud of myself I managed to eat more than half of my breakfast with sheer enjoyment and no side effects threatened.

"hearing you say that is like music to my ears Di." My dad smiles.

"Well I'm exhausted. I may go lay down." I stand up and reveal my four foot nine self to Harry.

"I'll be up in a minute."

"Take your time dad. It was nice meeting you Harry." I shake his hand.


I make my way to the elevator and press number five. I get to our room and collapse on the bed and in seconds I am asleep.


Harry's POV:

Definiton of a hero. Dianna's father has just informed me of their life, although some could debate would life? What kind of life is in and out of hospital, needles, tests, surgeries, medications, the uncertainty everyday may bring. I can't help but feel guilty here I am a year older than her and I have lived and dreamed so much and all of them came true.

"So do you have any potential live donors on your family?" I ask curiously.

He shakes my head. "No so she will need to go back on a machine until a match becomes available."

"How long will that be?"

"Hard to say, can be two, five years. Or potentially more." My heart sinks.

To be connect on a machine for that amount time must be excruciating and frustrating.

"So what about your wife, surely she'd be a match?" I start to get nosy.

"Actually she left when Dianna was a baby. So"

Fuck how much more can these people take, why is life so easy for some and a constant battle for some? Speaking of battles. I think I have an idea to brighten up Dianna's night.

"Do you mind if I take her out tonight?" I realise I am overstepping hugely. "Just want to make this trip as memorable it can be.

"Well it depends where you taking on my little girl, and how long and what your intentions are?"

I oddly appreciate his macho front.

"Ok I understand your worries. But trust me I would never ever do anything that would compromise anything. I have a movie premier tonight and like to take her as my da--- guest."

He cocks his eyebrows, takes a deep breath. Why am I nervous all of a sudden?

"What time will she be home."

"Before midnight." I assure him.

He debates. "She can get all dresses up, meet a few people and my arm won't leave hers the entire time respectfully.

I smile.


"Please be careful with my daughter Harry."

Notes