Chapter 19 - NOAH'S SECOND BIRTHDAY
Noah insisted his birthday had been “ruined,” so Daniel gave him a second one.
Not another year.
Another party.
We kept it small.
Pizza.
Balloons.
Six classmates.
Aunt Carol.
Uncle Mike.
A few relatives who had actually apologized for staying silent.
And one enormous cake.
Noah chose chocolate.
“No pink frosting,” he announced.
Daniel looked at me.
“Too soon?”
“Definitely.”
Noah pointed a plastic cake knife at everyone.
“Rule number one.”
Nobody pushes anybody.
“Rule number two.”
Nobody yells.
“Rule number three.”
If somebody is upset, they tell Dad.
Daniel laughed.
“Why am I responsible for everything?”
“Because it’s your house.”
I raised a hand.
“Technically half mine.”
Noah considered that.
“Then Aunt Emily too.”
“Wonderful.”
The party was held at our childhood house.
We had repainted the kitchen and repaired the porch.
The study remained almost exactly as Mom left it.
Daniel had moved into the house temporarily while sorting out the next stage of his life.
Rachel attended Noah’s second birthday for one supervised hour.
That had been Daniel’s decision with guidance from the family advocate.
I was nervous.
So was she.
When she entered, the room became quiet.
Noah ran to her anyway.
“Mom.”
Rachel knelt and hugged him.
She cried.
He did too.
Nobody pretended everything was fixed.
That would have been another kind of lie.
Rachel gave Noah a small gift.
A model airplane.
Then she approached me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She glanced at my leg.
The crutch was gone.
I had graduated to a cane and was expected to stop using that soon too.
“You look better.”
“I am.”
She nodded.
“I’m glad.”
There was an awkward silence.
Then Rachel looked toward the cake.
“I owe you an apology for that too.”
I almost smiled.
“The cake?”
“Noah’s first party.”
“I think the cake was the least important thing that happened.”
“I know.”
She looked embarrassed.
“I’m trying.”
“I can see that.”
It was not forgiveness.
Not completely.
But it was true.
When her visit ended, Noah walked her to the door.
Rachel hugged him again.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She looked toward Daniel.
“Thank you.”
Daniel nodded.
After she left, Noah remained quiet for several minutes.
Then one of his friends yelled from the dining room.
“CAKE!”
Noah immediately ran back.
Daniel lit the candles.
Everyone sang.
Noah closed his eyes and made a wish.
He blew out all ten candles in one breath.
I looked at Daniel.
“Ten?”
He grinned.
“One candle for surviving the original party.”
Noah heard him.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
Everyone laughed.
Daniel handed me the cake knife.
I handed it to Noah.
“You do the honors.”
He cut the first piece.
Then he looked around suspiciously.
“No pushing.”
We all raised our hands.
“No pushing.”
The cake stayed on the table.
May you like
It seemed ridiculous that such a small thing could feel like victory.
But it did.
