Jett
I use the wall to balance myself as I climb down the stepladder on one foot. It’s much harder than it seems, but I can’t put any weight on my broken foot at all. I think it’s probably healed for the most part, but stepping on it would break the cast and get me in hot water with my doctor, and probably with Keanna.
When I get to the floor, my broken leg bent at the knee, I hop over to my crutches.
“Jett Adams!” My mom’s shrill voice scares the shit out of me, making me jump. I lean against the wall as my crutches fall to the floor.
“Jesus, Mom,” I say, turning to look at her. She’s got a stack of DVDs in one hand and the other is on her hip. Her eyes narrow at me, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” She looks from me to the step ladder, then to the window which I’ve covered with a blackout curtain. She heaves a sigh. “Son, I can do this for you.”
“I got it,” I say. I bend down and pick up my crutches, then I hobble over to her. She runs her hand down the creases in the brand new curtains, probably wishing I had ironed them first.
Not gonna happen. I wouldn’t even know where to find the iron.
“I’ll do the rest,” she says. “You can’t use a step ladder with a cast on one of your feet.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” I say, throwing my arm around her shoulders. She’s so much shorter than I am, it’s kind of funny, even though she’s still glaring at me. “My cast comes off soon, so my leg is already healed by now. They always leave it on way too long anyhow.”
She snorts. “Right, okay. I forgot you went to medical school and you know more than your doctors.” She rolls her eyes. “Just let me handle the rest of these. You can do something less dangerous.”
Tomorrow is Keanna’s nineteenth birthday. Since my awesome county fair idea was dead on arrival, thanks to my broken leg, I’ve taken her movie idea and turned it into something awesome. If all she wants to do is sit at home and watch movies, I can still make it special.
Upstairs in my house, we have a game room, that’s basically just a big open room with a pool table and a TV and some leather recliners for watching movies. The TV is mounted to the wall and it’s only forty-seven inches big, so It’s not nearly big enough for what I want to do.
I’m buying a projector and a screen and Dad is helping me install them. I pick up the DVDs Mom set on the couch and go through them. She was in charge of finding eighties romantic comedies that she thinks Keanna would like, and judging by all the girly images on the covers, I think she probably nailed it. As soon as Dad gets back from Best Buy, we’re going to set up the projector screen which will make a ninety inch theater screen on our wall. It’s going to be amazing.
I also bought four blackout curtains to replace the existing girly ones with black and white baroque patterns on them that my mom picked out a long time ago. These are solid black and have a reflector type of material on the back and they promise to block out all sunlight.
I’ve rented a popcorn machine from a local party rental place, and bought a ton of candy and drinks, which Mom is helping me set up on a table as if it were a concession stand.
The best part? My parents and Keanna’s parents will be hanging out at Keanna’s house all day tomorrow, that way the little kids won’t be loud and mess up our day. As soon as Keanna comes over, we’re go into have a dark movie theater and a stack of movies. I can’t think of anything more relaxing, and I really hope she’ll love it. The best part, is that it doesn’t require any walking, so my stupid broken leg won’t ruin the evening.
“What will you be having for dinner?” Mom asks after she’s hung up the other three curtains. The old ones are draped over her shoulder.
“I was thinking some kind of takeout,” I say. “Whatever Keanna wants, and we’ll get it delivered.”
Mom nods. “I’m baking her that chocolate cake she loves. Should be done soon if you want to come eat the leftover icing.”
“You know I do,” I say, rubbing my stomach.
She laughs. “Do you like the movies I picked out?”
“Hell if I know,” I say, casting a glance back at them. “It’s not about me liking them, it’s about her liking them.”
“I’ve raised you right,” Mom says before she heads back downstairs.
When Dad gets back from the store, we set up the projector screen. He thought my movie projector idea was so badass that he wanted to buy it himself, to add an extra level of awesome to the game room. I had planned on buying the projector since it was my idea, but I don’t complain. Dad and I hang it from the ceiling and run the wires through the attic. He has to do that part, since I’m stuck with my leg.
We screw the retracting screen from the ceiling and pull it down to cover the existing TV on the wall. Our new massive movie screen looks amazing.
“We can watch the dirt bike races on this thing,” Dad says as we sit back and admire our handiwork. Right now it’s just playing the DVD loading screen for The Breakfast Club but it still looks amazing.
He claps me on the back. “I can’t wait until you’re back out there racing.”
“Me too, Dad.” I cast a scornful look at my leg. “Me too.”
***
I overheard Becca telling my mom that she was planning a fancy birthday breakfast for Keanna, so I decide to let her have some family time on the morning of her birthday. She texts me asking if I want to come over, but I know I’ll have her the rest of the day, and I think it’s so important for her to be with the people who love her the way she never had when she was growing up, so I tell her to come to my house when she’s done. Sometimes it sickens me when I remember that her own mother dumped her off with strangers and never came back. How could anyone do that to their own child? I can understand it happening when the child is an infant and the parent is too unfit to raise them. That’s the only thing that makes sense…giving up a child you can’t take care of for the greater good. But Keanna was practically a legal adult by the time her mom left her. They’d already spent a lifetime together. That’s just cold and unforgiveable.
Mom’s beautiful chocolate cake rests on the dining table, on a fancy crystal cake stand. My baby sister is now seven months old, so Mom lets her lick some icing off her finger. She doesn’t seem to like it, which was kind of hilarious because Mom’s homemade from scratch chocolate icing is literally the best thing in the world.
I help Mom decorate the table, but she quickly shoos me away, saying I’m not good at sprinkling confetti, whatever that means. It’s just confetti!
But somehow, Mom’s right. The table looks amazing when she’s done with it. A silver tablecloth sparkles under the chandelier and pink and purple confetti is sprinkled perfectly down the center of the table. My parents’ presents for Keanna are wrapped much nicer than how I wrapped mine, and they’re sitting next to the cake.
Keanna comes over around eleven, once her family breakfast is done. I meet her at the backdoor with a kiss and a birthday hug. “Do you feel older and more mature?” I ask her with a grin.
She grins back. “Older, yes. Mature? Never.”
I’d told her to dress comfortably for our day of movie watching, so she’s wearing pink and black striped leggings that do wonders to the curve of her ass, as well as a long sleeved Ivory Ella shirt with a cute cartoon image of an elephant on it. It’s Keanna’s new favorite clothing brand, because the company donates money to saving elephants. She only has one of their shirts right now because she discovered the company a month ago, but she’ll have more when she opens my presents.
“So what movies did you get?” she asks as we walk from my back door toward the dining room.
“Mom picked them out, so don’t worry,” I say with a chuckle. “I think they’ll be perfectly girly and romantic enough for you.”
She gives me this bashful smile. “You’ll like them too, Jett. Everyone loves romance.”
I pretend to gag, just to keep up my manliness. She punches me in the stomach.
We find my family in the kitchen. “There’s the birthday girl!” my mom says to Brooke in her baby voice. “Can you give Keanna a big birthday smile?”
Brooke grins easily, especially when you talk to her in a high pitched voice. Keanna gushes at the baby smile and she bends down and kisses Brooke’s fat baby cheek. “Thank you, Brookie!” she says.
“What is she wearing?” I ask as I make baby faces at my little sister. Mom’s dressed her in the fluffiest outfit on earth. A pink T-shirt with sparkles all over it, and pink leggings and this pink sparkly tutu thing around her waist. She’s wearing socks that have both sparkles and like mini tutus around the ankles. Brooke’s hair is covered in a sparkly headband with a flower and rhinestones on it.
Basically, my baby sister has been dunked in a bucket of pink sparkle.
“She’s adorable,” Mom says. “It’s her party outfit.”
“I love it,” Keanna says. “You’re the prettiest baby in the world!” Brooke squeals and holds Keanna’s hand in her little baby fist.
“She can probably be seen from space,” I say. “That’s more sparkle than a craft store.”
Dad laughs from the other side of the room, where he’s setting out tiny plates and forks. “Your mother never got to dress you up because boy clothes don’t sparkle,” he explains. “She’s making up for that now.”
“Damn right I am,” Mom says. Brooke flails toward Keanna so Mom hands her over. “Jett’s clothes were so boring when he was a baby. Oh my God. Monster trucks, monkeys, and alligators and stuff. No sparkle at all.”
Keanna’s smile is never as big as when she’s holding her brother or my sister. Watching her play with the baby gives me all kinds of feelings that, as a guy, I usually try to ignore.
Like how one day if we have kids, she’ll be that happy playing with them. I try to imaging being a parent. Taking care of a baby that’s actually mine and not just my little sister. Raising a kid to know right from wrong, teaching them how to tie their shoes and cleaning up puke when they’re sick. All the things my parents have done over the years.
It’s a ton of work. I only like playing with Brooke when my parents are there to make sure I don’t screw up. I can’t even imagine doing it all alone, and that’s exactly what my mom and dad did when they had me. They’re my heroes. Someday, I hope Keanna and I will be half the parents they are.
My mom lights the candles on Keanna’s cake and we sing her happy birthday. She looks so beautiful sitting in front of the candles, her face glowing from the flames. I kind of wish everyone else would leave so I could be alone with her.
Brooke seems to love all of it, from the singing to the candles to the sound the wrapping paper makes as Keanna tears it off her gifts. My dad gives her a yearly membership to the local car wash place that Keanna loves. They wash your car as much as you want if you’re a member. He also gets her one of those hard shell suitcases for when we travel to races together. She’d been borrowing an old suitcase of mine before, but snow she has her own. She likes it so much, I worry she won’t like my gift nearly as much as this one.
Mom gives her lots of clothes, all of which are things Keanna beams at and squeals over. While Mom and her are gushing over the clothes, which are apparently exactly what Keanna wanted, Dad and I exchange bored looks. He winks at me. “Get used to it, son. Your mom knows your girlfriend better than we do.”
I laugh. “She hasn’t seen my gift yet,” I say, giving her a wink. “But you have to wait until we get upstairs to get it.”
She grins at me.
We finish our cake and then my parents wish her happy birthday one last time before leaving to go next door. Keanna knows I’ve planned a movie day for us, but she doesn’t know that I’ve transformed the game room into our own personal theater.
“Close your eyes,” I say when we reach the top of the stairs. “And prepare to be amazed.”