Birthdays are awkward but Brianna’s is worse. We are here by the pool. One, I have never used the pool. Two, no one is talking. Music booms from the box speakers on the short tiled stairs leading to our table, the only source of noise in this odd silence.
Joshua, the talkative is quiet. Bren might as well be absent. She hasn’t breathed a word to anyone. Wyn talks but just enough to not get Bren mad. I adjust the cone cap on my head, everyone on the table is wearing one but Brianna’s has birthday girl written on it. That and her sash. This feels like a terrible idea.
The flame of her birthday candle flickers, Mother cups her hand around it to protect it from dying. She slides the cake to Brianna and inserts a table knife. Brianna knows her as her grandmother. That’s right. As in Joshua’s case as the uncle. I’m the only one being wrongly addressed. I’ll probably keep it that way.
Joshua knocks the table twice, all eyes turn to him. “We have to sing for the birthday girl.”
Ah, yes. They sing at birthdays. Joshua starts the chorus and we join in. I groan when he rises to his feet, forcing all of us except Brianna to do the same. We are only eight, we don’t need to observe protocols.
“How old are you now?” Joshua says in a singsong voice. Brianna giggles as the chorus comes to an end. It takes some seconds for her to raise her hands, showing one finger on one hand and five on the other. “Fifteen?” His excitement is contagious. Wyn giggles beside me. Brianna’s grin widens. “You’re a big girl.”
“I’m a big girl too,” Wyn interjects.
We all laugh. I ruffle her hair and she sneers.
“Yes, Wyn,” Joshua murmurs, taking the attention off me. “You are also a big girl.”
Bren scoffs. No one pays her mind and we settle back to our seats. I feel eyes on me and lift my head in Mother’s direction. Her smile grows bigger when she realises I caught her staring and I smile in return.
“Do you want to make a wish?” Mother asks. She’s the closest adult to Brianna. Cara is a few inches behind her. The girls and I are on one side of the table while Mother and Joshua occupy the other.
She nods. The table is quiet as she stares at her yellow cake with Happy Birthday Brianna written in a darker coloured icing. She claps and a smile flies to my lips when she blows her candle. I wonder briefly what she might have wished for. If it’s for something I can’t provide her like a faster use of her limbs.
The thought disappears as soon as Lydia comes over to carry the cake. Mother holds a hand to stop her and Lydia moves behind Brianna’s seat. With Mother’s assistance, Brianna cuts her first slice of cake.
“Who do you want to give your first slice?” Mother asks. Joshua and I share a glance.
Does it matter?
“Daddy,” Brianna replies in a squeaky voice.
Unlike kids her age, her voice is tinier, almost child-like and slurry. She’s always excited. Warmth spreads through my chest. It does matter. Mother chuckles when I take a bite of the cake, I lick my lips and wink at my princess. She doesn’t have to be mine for me to love her one hundred percent with all my heart.
Lydia returns to carry the cake, Wyn shoves a finger into it, creating a dent on the side.
I glare at her and she mutters, “Sorry.”
Bren mimics her sister, gaze set on me as she wipes her finger clean of the icing. No apologies. Joshua snickers. But I don’t find her behaviour amusing. It’s one thing to be mad at me, it’s another to ruin her sister’s birthday cake. It’s her first ever celebration since coma. It’s her first ever celebration with me.
We engage in a stare-off, when her apology is not forthcoming, I cross my arms on the table. With this attitude, I am willing to dump them with their mother. “Brenwyn Elna Stark, what do you have to say?”
She shrugs. “I don’t even want to be here.”
A sharp intake of breath echoes around us. I don’t care to identify the source. My hand goes around Wyn’s seat, I put her on the empty seat by my right and occupy hers so I’m closer to this mischief maker.
“What did you say?” I ask.
Bren jumps to her feet, curving her hands around her mouth, she yells, “I don’t want to be here. I hate all of you.” She slams her hands on the table. “I hate this house. I hate this place. I hate everybody.”
Her outburst renders us speechless. Lydia carries the cake and makes an escape from the awkwardness. A gentle breeze blows over us, if only it could blow away the events of the last few minutes. Bren slumps to her seat and crosses her arms on her chest. I die on the inside when I catch Brianna’s sad expression.
Tears shimmer in Brianna’s eyes. “Even me?”
“I hate you too.” The words are not directed to me but my heart cracks into a thousand and one pieces. I pluck her out of her seat before she can do more verbal damage. “I only like my mummy and my sister.”
Counting under my breath to calm myself, I drag her from the table. She tries to pry my hand from her wrist but my hold tightens. This mini terrorist is not allowed anywhere my Brianna until she apologises.
“It’s not a big deal,” Joshua calls but I don’t give a shit what he has to say. We raised her better than this.
“It’s a big deal,” I reply without a backward glance at him. To Bren, I say, “I’m disappointed in you.”
All she does is flash her teeth as if to say given the chance she will do it again. As stubborn as her mother or worse.
We stop far from the table. Their heads whips to us and I move in front of Bren to block her view of them. Bren makes a sound between a whimper and a cry. Her eyes gleam with unshed tears that soon roll down her cheeks. My gaze turns sterner. She’s not bribing her way out of this with her tears.
One hand clenched in my pocket, I hook the other one under her jaw so our gazes meet.
“Are you going to apologise to your sister?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not sorry.”
The harshness of her voice is almost believable but I identify the double meaning behind her words. She’s sorry but she won’t admit it. I squat and take her hands. “Bren, you hurt your sister’s feelings.”
“You hurt my mummy’s feelings too.” Some of the fight leaves her body, she leans on me for support. “I just want my mummy,” she says, “Everybody in school has a mummy and daddy and they live together.”
Words flee my mind. I allow her sob into my shoulders. She doesn’t resist when I hoist her up, her legs lock around my waist and she tucks her head into the crook of my neck. Her sobs eventually reduce to hiccups. Her words float in my head and a heavy sigh leaves my lips. My princess is not usually like this.
I palm her back, eyes on the sky. It’s so hard being a father sometimes. I don’t trust El with them. It will take a while for me to fully trust her. I might be paranoid but it is what it is. Bren sneezes. I sigh again.
My fingers weave into her hair, she makes a soft sound and her arms wrap around my neck. A fuzzy feeling warms my insides. It has been so long since she hugged me. I push her hair out of her face, her teary gaze meets mine and she offers me a contrite smile. There’s no use trying, I can’t be mad at her.
“Do you want to go stay with Mummy for a few days?” The pad of my thumb brushes her cheek.
A moment of silence passes, she pecks me. “I want to stay with you and Mummy.”
Oh. That’s impossible. I muster a smile and set her to her feet. “You have to apologise to everybody.”
“Everybody?” Her eyes widen. She stalks to the row of flowers on the other side and pulls out a stick.
“Yes, everybody.” I accept the flower she offers me. She sits on the pavement, no care for her new gown as she shifts to create space for me. Our arms touch. “Joshua. Grandma. Lydia. Cara. Bri. Your sister.”
“My sister?” I nod. She owes everyone at the table an apology, especially Brianna. I am not sure what goes on in her head yet and I don’t want Bren to ruin her first family experience. I don’t want her to think for one moment that she’s not welcomed here. I love her just as much. “That’s a lot of apology.”
“Yeah?” She pouts. “That’s what you get for trying to ruin your sister’s birthday.”
Her lips pucker into a frown, I throw an arm over her shoulders and kick my legs out. Bren relaxes her weight on me and a part of me wishes I am sharing this moment with El. I think I miss her. I push those silly thoughts aside. Because I haven’t called the mediator doesn’t mean I want us to get back together.
Who am I kidding? She plagues my dreams. Every dark-skinned woman I see looks like El. I want her.
“You have to make Bri happy.” If I had put my brother’s happiness before mine, I might not have hated him so much. “She’s your sister too. You have to love her like you love Wyn. She has had a tough time.”
“Okay.”
Her head is no longer resting on my arm but our fingers are connected. She frowns. Hidden from the view of the birthday table, we stare straight ahead at the other rows of flowers lining the tall fence.
“When you say mean things, it can affect people. It can make them very sad or angry.”
And they start to doubt or think the worse of themselves. It’s worse when the person who says the vile stuff is your wife, right after she claims to love you or promises to spend the rest of her life with you.
Shit.
I am thinking of her again. I don’t want to think of her. I don’t want to remember her. I want to switch off my feelings for her and move on as fast as she seems to do with T.
How’s she doing?
Does she miss me like I miss her?
For my sanity, I didn’t stalk her but everyone is forbidden from mentioning her name.
“Did I make you angry?” Bren places a hand on my knee. I shake my head. El makes me angry, even in her absence. Angry, hurt and sad. It almost feels like I can’t do without her in my life. I hate it. “Sad?”
“Very.” I look down and her eyes so similar to her mother’s crinkles at the sides. “Brianna too.”
“I didn’t mean it.” Her line sounds so much like El. She says things she doesn’t mean but they both need to learn that once the words are out, it can’t be taken back. “I was not happy. I just want my mummy.”
“I know.” I squeeze her hand and press a kiss to her temple. “But you have to apologise to her and you can’t say that to anyone again. Promise?” Her eyes flicker to my face. “I know you were angry, Princess. But if you keep saying mean things to people when you are angry, you won’t have any friends again.”
Her lips move into the form of an O, she tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Sorry, Daddy. Don’t be sad again.”
I wish it worked like that. This ache, this sadness, only El can take it away.