Chapter Seven – NOW

 

My eyes crack open to the dull, early morning light peeking through the gap in my curtains.  Matilda’s excited cheers fill the hall as she sings.

“It’s my birthday.  It’s my birthday.  Wake up, Momma.”

I can’t stop the smile stretching my lips, even if I tried.  Pushing the covers back, I swing my legs over the side and wait for her to appear.  She bounds through the door and launches into my arms seconds later.  I kiss her, hugging her tight.

“Happy birthday, beautiful girl.”

“I’m five!”  Her excitement is contagious. 

I widen my eyes in disbelief.  “No way,” I gasp.  “My baby can’t be five.  I’m pretty sure you’re only one.  You’re still in diapers, right?” I joke with her.

“No, Momma,” she replies with a giggles.  “I’m a big girl. I’m five!”  Her rosy pink lips stretch with excitement.  Her blue eyes twinkle with delight.

“Well, I guess if you’re five today, you should get a present.”

“Yes!” she claps her hands and bounces in my lap, making her soft blonde curls jump up and down.  I put her down and reach under my bed to pull out her gifts.  I set them on the bed and watch as her sparkling blue eyes flit between the two wrapped boxes.  One small, one big.  Which one will she open first?  I laugh at her innocence and indecision.

“Go ahead. Open one.”

She hesitantly reaches for the smaller box with her eyes still on the larger one.

“I don’t know which one to open first,” she tells me, her whole body vibrating with joy.

When she finally reveals the first gift, her mouth drops open, her cupid’s bow lips forming a perfect oval.

“Momma,” she breathes.  “It’s so pretty.”  She reaches out to stroke the fine silver chain.

“Look,” I say, opening the small locket to reveal a photograph of her father.

“Thanks, Mommy.  Can you put it on me?”

“Sure, sweetie.”  I secure the clasp around her neck and she smiles up at me.

“Now my daddy will be with me all the time. Right near my heart, ‘cause he lives there anyway, doesn’t he, Mom?” she states. 

I’ve always told her that her father went to heaven before she was born, but he will always be near, because he lives on in her heart.  A simple, but effective explanation, appropriate for her age.  When she gets older, I expect she will have questions and will need a more in-depth discussion about death and her dad.  But for now, she’s content knowing Brant is in her heart.

She opens the second box to reveal a playset including a horse and carriage, with a Barbie doll.  I assemble the toys for her so she can play with them right away, and then I move to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.  While it’s brewing, I start on Matilda’s breakfast pancakes.  Then I guess I better start preparing for the arrival of the twelve five-year-olds that will soon be here for Matilda’s party.

 

I yawn as I admire my handiwork.  Pink and purple decorations adorn our smaller than average-sized backyard.  A trestle table off to the left is covered in a princess themed plastic sheet, and topped with treats I both made and purchased from the local bakery.  Cupcakes, candy, chips, chocolate, and of course a bowl of fruit, so at least I’m feeding the kids something healthy. 

“Where’s the birthday girl?”  I turn at the sound of Celia’s cheery voice.

“Aunt Silly!” Matilda shrieks, using the nickname both her father and uncle gave Celia when they were younger.

They hug and Celia hands Matilda a gift, which she opens carefully, revealing a pretty outfit complete with plastic heeled shoes and some costume jewelry. 

“I put the cake on the counter,” Celia tells me, when Matilda races off to greet her guests, who are just arriving.

“Oh, thank you.  I’m excited to see it.”  Celia always does a fabulous job making birthday cakes for everyone in the family.  She’s a very talented baker.

Shrieks and laughter fill the yard as the kids race around playing chase and imaginary games.  I chat with some of the parents who stick around, and ensure the drink cooler is kept topped up. 

“Kyle mentioned he’d stop by later,” Celia says as I grab some more bags of chips from the pantry.

“Oh?  Okay.  I’m sure Matilda will love to see him.”  I smile at her, ignoring the way my heart stutters in my chest at the simple mention of his name.

“I’m sure she’s not the only one,” Celia mutters.  The woman is far too intuitive for her own good.  I swear she sees right through me.  The knowing smile on her face tells me she just loves to see me squirm from just hearing his name.  “You’ve been alone so long, Liv.  You should start dating again,” she says gently.  An opinion she has shared many times over the past six years. 

“One day, Cel.  Right now, I’m just happy with Matilda.”  It’s the honest truth, but deep down in my gut, I can’t deny the twist of longing I feel.  I push it aside and concentrate on refilling the party food.