A Few Weeks Later
The first week of October was upon us, and my family couldn't stop gushing over my birthday. My sixteenth birthday, to be exact. Mom came home a week ago, and since then, she's been determined to make sure my day was special. "We need cake, flowers, decorations—oh, and balloons—" "Mama!" I interrupt. Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide, almost startled. "I meant it. Just a quiet birthday. No parties, no extravagance. Just us." My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. For a moment, she says nothing. Then, slowly, the soft tap of her cane fills the silence as she moves closer. "But, Audra… it's your sixteenth birthday." Her voice is so small, so hopeful. I shake my head. "I've never been big on birthdays." The moment the words leave my mouth, her face crumbles. Pain flashes across her eyes. "That's not true, baby," she whispers. "You used to love birthdays. The planning, making the invites, picking out your cake…" Her voice wavers, eyes glistening. "You used to love it all. Before—" Her breath hitches as she chokes on her tears. She lowers herself onto the couch, her hand covering her mouth, trembling just slightly. "Mama!" I rush to her side, placing my hand on her shoulder. She shakes her head quickly, forcing a small smile. "I'm alright, baby. I guess… it's just hard to watch you grow up. To see that what you used to love no longer interests you." She brings her hand up to meet mine, our fingers intertwining together. She looks up at me and smiles, patting my hand. Then, despite everything, she pushes herself to stand. Her body wavers slightly, and I reach out, steadying her without thinking. For a second, neither of us says anything. Then she smiles—a sad, knowing kind of smile. "Maybe I just miss the little girl who used to get excited about birthdays." I swallow hard. Because deep down, I missed her too. Dad's head pokes in from the kitchen. "You girls quit with this. Audra, we're doing something, even if it's small, so just suck it up." He narrowed his eyes, playfully yet firmly. I nod. "Ok, but no yellow decorations, or purple or red. Actually, just stick to pink, blue, and green." I huff. Mom smiles slightly. "There she is." Her voice was so soft I barely heard it. "So no unicorn cake then?" Kai chimes in as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, a smirk playing at his lips. "No, Kai. No unicorn anything." I roll my eyes. "Are you sure? I remember little eight-year-old you begging Mom and Dad for one," he teased. I scoff. "That was eight years ago, and if I remember correctly, I got it," I say smugly, placing my hands on my hips. He sticks his tongue out as he leaves the room, entering the kitchen. I smile. Only two days away now.
Tuesday Morning
My eyes fluttered open as the familiar scent of my mom's breakfast hits my nose. My heart starts to thrum against the walls of my ribcage. I found it hard to believe that after six years I would ever wake up to this smell. Mom's famous birthday breakfast. I throw the covers off as I race to put on my robe and slippers. I thud down the hall and nearly trip down the stairs, my robe half falling off. I pull it back up onto my shoulder as I slowly near the kitchen. I push open the swinging door and there she was—leaning against the counter, adding strawberries into the waffle iron, the batter dripping down the sides, adding to an existing puddle. She hummed softly, slowly swaying her hips. Dad sat at the table, sipping on a coffee, and Kai tried sneaking up to reach for a piece of bacon, only for my mom to whack him on the hand with her tongs. "Ah ah, that's for your sister. No one eats until she does." My mom waves him off, and I snicker. She stiffens slightly before turning around, a warm smile on her face. "Happy birthday, baby." She comes over to me slowly, leaning on her cane as she places a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Yeah, happy birthday, sis. I got your first present right here," he says, reaching inside the pantry and pulling out a small unicorn-shaped balloon. I scowl at it. "That's not funny, Kai." He laughs loudly. "It is. It's hilarious." He twirled the balloon's string between his fingers as he glanced over at me. "Every eight years I'm gonna get you one! It's tradition!" He laughs, holding his hands to his sides. "Hey," my dad chided, "that's enough teasing, Kai. It is her birthday." Kai shrinks back slightly, grumbling in defeat. "Yes, Dad," he mumbled, putting the balloon on the table. I giggle. The house radiated with warmth. I sat down at the table, my mom bringing over my plate, as Dad helped with everyone else's. "Alright, we have bacon strips, chicken tenders with maple syrup, and strawberry- and chocolate-drizzled waffles," she says proudly. "Thanks, Mom," I say, smiling as she takes a seat across from me. She leans her elbows against the table, then she rests her head onto her hands as everyone looks at me expectantly. I take the first bite, the chocolate waffles and strawberries melting in my mouth. I nod slightly. "This is delicious, Mom," I say, stuffing another bite into my mouth. "Thanks, baby. Now let's all dig in," she said. We all ate as the quiet chatter of the morning consumed us.
After we finished breakfast, Kai took me out of the house to a shopping plaza. We walked around there for a few hours before returning home. When I stepped in, I immediately noticed the bright confetti and balloons littered across the floor. I smiled softly. Blue, green, and pink pastels. Kai smiled a bit before dragging me into the kitchen where my parents sat at the table adorned with all my favorite foods and a small pile of presents. "Something small, and we still got to decorate," my mom said happily, and I could see it—her eyes were smiling just as brightly as the warmth she radiated. I ran up and hugged them both. "Thank you. It's perfect," I said through tears. "Alright, alright, what do you want to do first—eat or open presents?" my dad asked impatiently. "Hmm…" I tapped a finger to my chin, drawing out the suspense. "Food. Definitely. I'm starved," I say, rubbing my belly. "Of course you pick food first," Kai scoffed, pointing at my protruding stomach. I scowled. "I'll have you know I was sticking it out on purpose." "Sure you were," he said, smirking. "Any sane person would've picked the presents first." He walked into the kitchen, grabbing a plate. "Yeah, yeah, that just means I'm not as materialistic as you," I shot back, following him into the kitchen. Kai huffed dramatically, but I caught the amused glint in his eye. I grabbed my plate, and two more—one each for my parents. We all sat and dug in, engaging in light conversation.
Soon the last crumbs of food were cleaned. I leaned back, patting my now full stomach. "Alrighty, I'm full now, let's do this." I crack my knuckles, wiggling my fingers toward the small pile of presents. "Mine first, as always," my mom said, handing me a small box wrapped in shimmery blue paper. I carefully grab the end of the ribbon and untie it. I tear at the paper to reveal a small blue velvet jewelry box. I pull open the lid to reveal a silver bracelet. In the center, it held a deep blue sapphire. Surrounding it in a flower pattern were small diamonds. "Oh, Mama," I say, pulling my hand to my mouth. "It was your grandmother's. She gave it to me on my sixteenth, and now I get to give it to you," she murmurs. Tears well in my eyes as I give her a small hug from the side. "Thank you, Mama. It's beautiful." She wipes the tears from my cheek. "You're welcome, baby," she whispers.
"Ok, mine next," my dad says eagerly, handing a large square box. I rip away the paper and open the box. Inside is a large watercolor sketchbook, some new paints, and horsehair brushes. I smile softly. "Thanks, Dad. I really needed this," I say. "Yeah, I've seen your book, kiddo. It's almost full, so I thought now would be a good time." I nod and turn to Kai. He wore a mischievous grin. "Here's mine." He thrust an oversized stuffed bag into my arms. I eye him suspiciously. I throw out the multitude of tissue paper and come across a soft, heavily duct-taped object. I shoot him a look, to which he just shrugs off. I roll my eyes, standing up to grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen. I sit back down and carefully cut open the package. Little wisps of white fur peeked through the tape as I cut. Finally, I break through all the tape—and there, staring back at me, was a unicorn plushie. I purse my lips as I stared at it. "Look, I had already wrapped it. So I thought, might as well," he shrugged, pulling out a small box. "Here's your real present. Happy birthday, sis." He took his hand and ruffled my hair. I shoot him an angry look and opened the little box. It was a silver locket. I shakily pinched the clasp open. It was a picture of us. All of us. It was the first picture we took together in our new house—with all of us. In our new home. My face softened. It was an extremely special gift. I only realized I was crying when I felt the wetness roll down my cheek. "Thanks, Kai. This is really nice," I say, wiping my tears away, sniffling.
I helped them clean up, and soon it was close to my bedtime. I sat in bed reading a book my aunt got me when I heard a soft knock on my door. "Come in," I call. The door creaks open, and my mom steps in, holding a small gift box behind her back. "Enjoying your new book?" she asks, leaning her cane against my bed, then situating herself on the edge. I nod. "It's interesting, not something I would've picked," I say. "Oh? What's it about?" she asks curiously. "It's an interspecies love story between a magic user and a dog man. It sounded cheesy, but it's actually pretty good," I say, thrumming my fingers against the cover. She smiles softly. "Sounds interesting." She readjusts herself, pulling the box from behind her. "Actually, I had one more thing to give you today." She gently sets the box in my hands, urging me to open it. I take the box and carefully lift the lid. Inside sat an old, hand-carved wooden box. I pull it out, looking at the intricate details. Waves and swirls were carved into the sides. Little water droplets were etched into the lid in a strange pattern. I pull open the lid, and up pops a wave in a swirling pattern. The soft hum of music starts to play. I recognized this. My mother softly hummed our song, her voice pulling me into a gentle trance. I let the song play through to the end before I closed the lid. Tears fell from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks. My mom reached her hand up and softly brushed them away. "You know… that song. My mother sang it to me when I was little, and her mother too." She picked up the box, tracing the waves with her finger. "I was going to give this to you when you turned eighteen, but now feels like the right time," she whispered, looking at me, tears welling in her eyes. I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Mom? Is something wrong?" I ask, reaching to comfort her. She shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong, baby. I'm just sad to see you grow up," she murmured. I nod and comfort her, rubbing her back soothingly. She wipes her tears away, standing up. "I'm so happy you're growing up into such a wonderful young woman." Her voice wavered slightly, and I could see the depth of emotions in her eyes—love, pride, and something else, something unspoken. She placed the music box gently in my hands, curling my fingers around it. "No matter what happens, Audra, always remember—this song, this melody, it is our family, your home." A lump formed in my throat as I nodded. I threw my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder. "Thank you, Mama," I whispered. She held me for a long moment, pressing a soft kiss to my hair before pulling away. "Get some rest, sweetheart. Tomorrow's a new day." I watched as she picked up her cane and made her way to the door, pausing only to give me one last, lingering look. Then she was gone, leaving me with the quiet hum of my thoughts and the gentle weight of the music box in my hands. I placed it carefully on my nightstand and slipped beneath the covers, letting the lingering melody lull me into sleep.
For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.