“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!”
I woke to the sound of my son’s shout and opened my eyes just in time to see a forty-pound bundle of energy flying toward me. “Whoa!” I cried as Mason landed on the foot of my bed. “Well, good morning, buddy!”
“Morning, Dad!” Mason crawled across the comforter covering my legs and climbed on top of me, bouncing up and down in his excitement.
“Careful, Mason,” Dawn warned, frowning as she followed him in with a breakfast tray. “You’re getting awfully big to be doing that. Just because your dad can’t feel it doesn’t mean you can’t hurt him.”
“Aw, he’s fine.” I shot Mason a reassuring smile, then looked to my left. The other side of the bed was empty, but I saw the faint impression of a sleeping body in the rumpled sheets. “Where’s Natalie?” I wondered.
“Right here!” Natalie walked into the room, wearing a radiant smile with the hot pink pajamas I’d helped her take off the night before. She was carrying a big, round birthday cake on Kristin’s crystal cake stand. “Happy birthday!”
“Wow! What is all this?” I reached for the remote to my bed and raised the head so I could sit upright. Remembering I was still naked underneath the covers, I hitched the comforter up higher to make sure it hid the bottom half of my body. I wasn’t worried about the women, but my son was old enough now that I was starting to feel a little weird about letting him see me in my birthday suit, even on my birthday.
“Natalie said we could have cake for breakfast!” Mason exclaimed, leaping off the bed and running a lap around the room. He was still in his Star Wars pajamas, his blond hair sticking straight up in the back.
“Before school?” I raised my eyebrows, looking from Natalie to Dawn. “How much sugar has he already had this morning?”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Dawn replied, raising her hands in defense. “This was all your girlfriend’s doing.”
Natalie flashed me a sheepish grin. “It’s a special day! Everyone deserves cake for breakfast on their birthday. But first, we have to sing.” She took a deep breath, then began in a high, clear voice, “Happy birthday to you…”
Dawn and Mason quickly joined in the singing, the latter adding a “Cha cha cha!” during the pause after each line – something he must have picked up at school, I assumed.
“Happy birthday to you…” Natalie brought the cake over to my bedside. I could see colorful letter candles blazing on top, spelling out the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY. “Happy birthday, dear Kevin… Happy birthday to you!”
Dawn and Mason clapped as Natalie held the cake out in front of me. “Make a wish!”
When I’d turned thirty-seven, my first birthday after the accident, a part of me had still wished I would have died in the car with Kristin. But I didn’t feel that way anymore. Now, at forty-one, I closed my eyes and wished for peace, love, and happiness in my personal life and career. When I opened my eyes and saw three of my favorite people in the world watching me, I was reminded of how blessed I was to be alive.
“Hurry and blow out the candles,” Natalie urged me. “This cake is getting heavy.”
I chuckled. “I’m gonna need some help from my little buddy. C’mere, Mason.”
I hadn’t been able to blow out my own birthday candles since before I got hurt. Thankfully, Mason was always happy to help. He climbed eagerly back onto the bed beside me and blew them all out in one big breath.
Natalie looked impressed. “He’s got a good set of lungs on him!”
“That’s my boy,” I said with a grin, giving Mason a fist bump. “Thanks, bud.”
Natalie set the cake stand down on my dresser next to the tray Dawn had brought in, which contained a carafe of coffee along with cups, plates, forks, and a large knife. While Natalie cut the cake, Dawn poured the coffee. Watching them work in tandem, I felt another wave of gratitude wash over me.
“Wow… talk about service,” I said, smiling at Dawn as she placed my spill-proof travel mug in my hands. “Thanks for goin’ to all this trouble, ladies. I haven’t had breakfast in bed like this in… god, forever.”
Five years. I knew exactly how long it had been since I’d last been served breakfast in bed as a luxury, not a necessity. (Being spoon-fed hospital food didn’t count.) It was on my thirty-sixth birthday, the last one I’d celebrated with Kristin. She was a new mom, still waking up in the middle of the night to nurse our three-month-old baby, but somehow, she’d managed to fix me bacon, eggs, and French toast for my birthday breakfast that morning. “You’re amazing,” I’d told her, tilting my chin up to kiss her as she set the tray of food on my lap. “Thanks, babe.”
I cleared my throat, forcing my thoughts back to the present and the people in front of me. “So, who baked this beautiful cake?” I asked as Natalie brought me a big slice. It was nothing fancy, just a simple two-layer yellow cake with chocolate icing, but I could tell it had been baked with love.
She smiled. “It was a team effort. Dawn baked the cake last night after we went to bed. I got up early and made the icing this morning, and Mason helped me decorate it.”
“Well, y’all did a great job. This looks delicious. I dunno how I’m gonna eat it in bed without making a huge mess, though.”
“No worries.” Natalie perched on the edge of the bed, holding the plate in her lap as she turned her body toward me. “I’ve got you, babe.” She sank a fork into the cake, cutting off a small piece, and brought it to my lips.
I felt my face flush as I realized she intended to feed me. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and let her put the fork inside. “Mmm…” I forced myself to smile as I swallowed. “That’s really good.” The cake was moist and flavorful, but the thought of her continuing to feed it to me bite by bite made me cringe. “You don’t have to feed me, though; I can do that myself if you bring me my fork and plate guard – and maybe Mason’s lap tray?” I looked up at Dawn, picturing the little plastic tray we let Mason sit on the floor with to eat in front of the TV from time to time.
“I don’t mind!” Natalie insisted. “It’s your birthday, baby! You deserve to be treated like a king all day long.”
I realized that, to her, feeding me probably seemed cute and romantic. She couldn’t have known how humiliating I found it or how much it reminded me of the hospital.
Except I told her one time, I thought, remembering our first real date at the Italian restaurant in London, where we had discussed the topic of being fed by other people. Clearly, Natalie had either forgotten about that conversation or was pretending not to remember it in order to satisfy her own desire to coddle me. I could have brought it up, but I decided not to. I didn’t want to ruin the morning when she, Dawn, and Mason had tried so hard to make it special for me.
“Whaddya say we finish our cake in the kitchen so we don’t get crumbs all over Daddy’s room?” Dawn suggested to Mason. “Come on. It’s almost time for you to get dressed for school, anyway.” She ushered him out of the room, turning to wink at us over the top of his head. “Just holler when you’re ready for me to start your program,” she told me in an undertone before she left, closing the bedroom door behind her.
I let out a sigh as I looked down at the lumpy chocolate icing, longing for the carefree days when I could spend a lazy morning in bed without having to worry about morning routines and bowel programs.
Natalie must have heard me sigh. “You okay?” she asked, looking at me with concern as she raised another bite of cake to my lips.
I hesitated, teetering on the edge of telling her to put the damn fork in my hand so I could feed myself. But, instead, I said, “Yeah. The cake is just really rich. I don’t think I can eat much more of it this early in the morning.”
“Oh! Well, that’s all right,” she replied, smiling. “We’ll just save the rest for tonight.” She set the plate down on my bedside table and brushed the cake crumbs off my bare chest. “You’ve got a little chocolate on your lip,” she said suddenly, leaning in to kiss me. “There… that’s better.”
I smiled and licked my lips, still tasting the sweetness on my tongue. “Thanks, babe.”
***
“Happy birthday, Kev!”
I smiled as Nick and Howie’s faces appeared, squeezed into the same frame on my phone screen. “Hey, fellas! Thanks for calling.”
“Anytime, dude,” said Nick. “How’s your day going?”
“Pretty damn good so far. I had birthday cake for breakfast – in bed – and I’ve got my girl here…” I turned my phone so they could see Natalie sitting next to me in the front seat of my truck. “…so I can’t complain. Forty-one and feelin’ fine.”
“And yet, you don’t look a day over twenty-nine.” Howie winked.
“Ha! Says the guy who’s somehow aging in reverse.”
“That’s ‘cause I got my mama’s Puerto Rican skin. Brown don’t frown, baby.” He tapped his smooth forehead, earning a giggle from Natalie. “So, where are you two headed?”
“Physical therapy. I thought I’d bring along a cheerleader today.”
“Oh, well, don’t let us keep you if you’ve got somewhere to be,” said Nick. “We don’t wanna make you late.”
“It’s okay; I’ve got a couple minutes to talk,” I said, glancing at the dashboard clock. “We just pulled into the parking lot. I always try to leave early and give myself plenty of time to get anywhere nowadays ‘cause everything takes me so much longer than it used to.” I cleared my throat. “But enough about me. How’s it goin’ for you guys? Still in the studio, I see.” I could see the soundboard behind them.
They both nodded. “It’s been another productive week so far.” Howie glanced at Nick, who nodded in agreement. “We can’t wait for you to hear this new Christmas song we’ve been working on. It’s coming along really well!”
“It’s catchy as shit, dawg,” Nick added with a grin. “Disney’s gonna love it.”
“I’m sure they will, as long as you don’t describe it that way to them,” I said, shaking my head in amusement. Catchy as shit…
While I was working in L.A. the previous week, we’d met with our management team to go over our schedule for the remainder of the year. In addition to recording sessions, promotional obligations for the upcoming cruise pre-sale, and a hometown road trip that would be filmed for the documentary, we had been invited to perform at the Disney Parks Christmas Day Parade, which would be filmed at Disneyland in early November. Disney had given us the option to sing our only original Christmas song, “Christmas Time,” or cover a classic. None of us had felt excited about performing a corny old song we’d recorded sixteen years ago, so Howie had offered to stay in L.A. longer and help Nick write a new Christmas single.
I was curious to hear what they had come up with, but that would have to wait for another time. “It sounds great, guys, but I’d probably better get going now. Don’t wanna keep Corey waiting,” I said. “I’ll catch y’all later. Thanks again for calling!”
“No problem. Have a great rest of your birthday!” Howie replied.
“Love you, bro!” Nick added before we hung up.
“That was sweet of them,” said Natalie, opening her door as I closed the FaceTime app on my phone. She climbed out of the truck and came around to meet me on my side, continuing the conversation as she waited for the lift to lower me to the ground. “I love the relationship y’all have. You really do love each other like brothers, don’t you?”
“Yup,” I replied, nodding. “I wouldn’t have gone back to the group if we didn’t. It sounds weird, but everything that happened during my time away seems to have brought us even closer together. We’re tighter now than we’ve ever been.”
Natalie smiled. “That makes me happy to hear,” she said as we headed into the rehab hospital where I did my outpatient therapy.
“Ah, so you’re Natalie,” said my therapist, Corey, when I introduced her to him. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Natalie beamed as she shook his hand. “Only good things, I hope!”
“Nothing but the best,” he assured her. “I can tell Kevin cares a lot about you.”
“Well, I care a lot about him, too,” she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “If there’s anything I can do to assist with his therapy, I’m happy to help. I didn’t just come here to watch; I want to be as involved as I can.”
“Of course! We can put you to work – if that’s okay with you, Kevin?” Corey turned to me, raising his eyebrows.
“Fine by me,” I confirmed with a nod, smiling at Natalie. “Dawn taught her how to do my stretches at home, so she already has some idea of what she’s doing.”
“Great! Well, let’s get started then,” said Corey, clapping his hands together. He helped me transfer to the therapy table to warm up with some stretches and passive range of motion exercises. He let Natalie assist him with these, showing her how to hold my legs in various positions, bending and rotating my joints to activate the muscles I could no longer move on my own.
“Have you ever seen a quadriplegic with Kevin’s level of injury learn to walk again?” Natalie asked Corey off-handedly as they were working on my feet, flexing and extending my toes.
Oh god, here we go again, I thought with a sinking feeling, remembering Natalie telling me that I shouldn’t give up hope of ever walking again. I thought she had accepted my explanation of why that wasn’t a realistic goal for me, but apparently not. I tried to catch Corey’s eye, but he was too focused on Natalie to notice.
Corey’s forehead creased as he frowned. “Well… it’s not so much the level of injury that affects a person’s likelihood of recovering function,” he began slowly. “It’s the ASIA grade.”
“The ASIA grade,” she repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Remind me what that means again?”
I could have told her myself, but I lay back and let Corey do it, figuring it would sound better coming from a professional.
“ASIA stands for the American Spinal Injury Association’s Impairment Scale. It’s an assessment that’s used to classify a spinal cord injury,” Corey explained. “It’s how doctors determine the neurological level of injury and whether the injury is complete or incomplete. So, for example, if I remember correctly, Kevin’s injury is classified as C5-C6 complete.” He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded. “That means his spinal cord was damaged between the C5 and C6 cervical vertebrae, which are right here.” He rubbed the back of his neck to show her. “A ‘complete’ injury gets a grade of ‘A’ on the ASIA exam, which, unfortunately, means the opposite of the grades you get in school. From a recovery standpoint, ‘A’ is the worst grade to receive. It means the spinal cord was severed or fully compressed to the point that no nerve signals can pass through, and the paralysis is permanent.”
“In other words, I didn’t actually ace the ASIA exam – I flunked it,” I added, flashing Natalie a wry smile. It didn’t bother me to hear Corey lay the facts out on the table for her. I had heard them all before and long since accepted my prognosis.
But Natalie didn’t smile back. “So, you’ve never known anyone who got an A and learned to walk again?” she asked Corey. I could tell she was desperately clinging to the hope that he could cite a case of someone who had beaten the odds.
“Not after this long, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Sometimes, the grade gets changed in the weeks and months after an injury as the swelling goes down and the period of spinal shock ends. I’ve known patients whose injuries were initially considered complete, only to be reclassified as incomplete weeks later. Some of them still have little sensation or function below their level of injury, but a few went on to make a full recovery. Most of those gains happen in the first six months, though. After that point, recovery tends to plateau. We don’t tend to see much improvement after the first year or two, let alone four or five.”
“Well, what about technology?” Natalie persisted. “Do you know of any new assistive devices or anything coming down the pipeline that could help Kevin?”
“Actually, I have heard of a few different companies that are in the process of developing robotic exoskeletons that could potentially help people with spinal cord injuries walk again,” Corey said, nodding. “None of them are FDA-approved yet, but that may become another mobility option down the road. That’s one reason we work on maintaining the bone density and muscle tone in Kevin’s legs. You never know what the future will bring.”
Natalie’s brown eyes brightened. “See, babe?” she said, turning back to me. “You never know! Maybe you’ll be like Iron Man someday!”
I chuckled. “Maybe.”
Corey caught my eye and smiled. “Sounds like you’re dating an optimist,” he said. “It’s good to surround yourself with positive people.”
“She’s no Debbie Downer; that’s for sure,” I replied, returning his smile.
We worked on my upper body next, doing a series of exercises that were meant to strengthen my core and improve my balance and coordination. I sat on the edge of the therapy table and tried to stay balanced without using my arms for support while Corey stood nearby, ready to catch me if I tipped over. In honor of my birthday, he blew up a balloon and had Natalie toss it for me to catch and throw back to her. It was a simple game, but we both had fun batting the balloon back and forth.
To finish the session, Corey strapped me into a standing frame. “Standing up has so many health benefits,” he explained to Natalie as he tightened the pads that locked my knees in place. “It increases blood flow and gives the internal organs more room to expand, leading to better circulation, respiration, and digestion. Weight-bearing exercises help strengthen the leg bones and give the sitting bones a break, which reduces the risk of pressure injuries, blood clots, muscle contractures, and osteoporosis.”
“You don’t have to tell her,” I said. “She’s a flight attendant, so she’s on her feet all the time – in heels, no less.”
Natalie nodded. “I do spend a lot of time standing and walking up and down airplane aisles,” she said, smiling.
“Well, have you ever stood face to face with your boyfriend?” Corey asked her.
“Not for more than a few seconds at a time when we transfer,” she replied. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“He can usually make it about fifteen to twenty minutes before his blood pressure drops, so get ready.” Corey grinned. “You can stand right here,” he said, pointing to a spot in front of me, “and I’ll bring him to you.” He went behind the standing frame and pumped the handles to slowly push me into an upright position.
It was hard to believe it had been almost five years since I’d stood unsupported. The sensation of standing without feeling my legs or feet under me was still a strange one, but I liked being at my full height. For once, I found myself looking down at Natalie instead of up, which felt even stranger. “Hey, babe,” I said with a smile.
She beamed back. “Hey, babe!” Standing on her tiptoes, she leaned across the tray on the front of the frame to kiss my lips. “Sometimes, I forget how tall you actually are,” she said, taking my face between her hands. “Tall, dark, and handsome.”
Corey chuckled. “Why don’t I give you two a few minutes to yourselves? I’ll be right over there if you need anything. Just holler if he starts to feel light-headed,” he told Natalie before walking across the room to talk to one of the other therapists.
I had only been standing for five minutes when I heard my phone ring. “Can you grab my phone for me?” I asked Natalie. She pulled it out of the pouch on the side of my wheelchair and put it in my hand. I expected to see the name of someone else I knew – friends, family, and colleagues had been calling and texting all day to wish me a happy birthday – but there was no name accompanying the unfamiliar number that was flashing on the screen. Recognizing the Lexington area code, however, I hurriedly swiped to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Hi, am I speaking to Mr. Richardson?” a friendly female voice asked.
“Yes, you are,” I replied. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Miss Milam, the nurse at Deep Springs Elementary. I’ve got Mason here in my office. His teacher sent him down because he got sick in the classroom. He’s gonna need someone to come and pick him up.”
“Oh, no…” My mind raced, wondering if I could transfer from the standing frame back to my chair, wheel myself out to my truck, strap myself into the driver’s seat, and make it to the school in less time than it would take Dawn to hop in her car and drive there from the house. I knew she would drop whatever she was doing and hurry to get Mason, but I was already in town, albeit on the wrong side of the city.
“What?” Natalie mouthed, staring at me with wide eyes.
“I’m on my way,” I told the nurse. “It’ll probably take me about twenty minutes.”
“No problem,” she said kindly. “We’ll see you when you get here.”
I ended the call. “Mason got sick at school,” I said to Natalie. “We need to go pick him up now. Can you wave Corey over to get me out of this thing?”
“Of course! Poor Mason…”
Half an hour later, we were pulling up in front of the school.
“Want me to just run in and get him while you wait here?” Natalie asked while I parked the truck. “It would be quicker that way.”
I shook my head. “They probably won’t release him to you; I didn’t put your name on the emergency contact list. Sorry,” I added, hoping she wouldn’t be offended by that.
“That’s okay. Why would you? I don’t even live in Lexington,” she replied with a shrug.
I waited impatiently for the lift to lower me to the ground, wishing it moved a little faster. I hated how everything took me at least twice as long as it had before I got hurt. Finally, I heard the platform hit the pavement and pressed the button to unlock my chair from the peg that held it in place.
Natalie walked ahead of me to hold the door open as I hurriedly wheeled myself into the school. We found Mason waiting for us in the main office. He was hunched forward in a chair with his head hanging over a wastepaper basket someone had tucked between his knees.
“What happened, buddy?” I asked as I rolled over to him, resting my hand lightly on his back.
He looked up, his white face brightening a little when he saw me. “I puked,” he said in a low voice. “All over the floor.”
“Aww… well, that’s okay. I’m sure you’re not the first kid to do that.”
“No, he’s definitely not,” said the secretary with a sympathetic smile. “There must be a stomach bug going around; we’ve sent several other students home with tummy troubles this week.”
“See? You’re not the only one,” I heard Natalie say to Mason while I signed him out. “It happens.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure eating birthday cake for breakfast didn’t help,” I muttered as we made our way out of the office.
Natalie’s face turned bright red. “You’re not really going to blame me for this, are you?” she hissed, rounding on me in the empty hallway. “You heard what she said – there’s a stomach virus going around!”
I hadn’t expected her to react so defensively. “I didn’t say it was your fault, but we don’t normally start the day with dessert – especially not on a school day. Dawn should have known better, even if you didn’t.”
“Well, forgive us for wanting to make your birthday morning fun for everyone,” she said huffily, hitting the handicapped button on the wall beside the front door so it would stay open for me without her having to hold it this time.
I heaved a sigh as I followed her out to the truck. Mason trudged alongside me, dragging his bookbag behind him.
The drive home was uncomfortably quiet. “You doing okay back there, bud?” I kept asking to break the silence as I glanced into the rearview mirror. Mason nodded in the back seat. Next to me, Natalie stared out the window and said nothing.
When we got back to the house, Natalie headed straight for the front porch, insisting that she “needed some fresh air.”
“Suit yourself,” I said with a shrug as I followed Mason inside, deciding I wasn’t going to feed into her dramatics. My son needed my attention more than she did at that moment.
Dawn was surprised to see Mason with me. “What are you doing home so early?” she asked as we came into the kitchen, where she was wiping down the countertops. She took one look at Mason’s face, and it seemed to click. “Are you sick?”
“The school called me to come get him,” I said as Mason nodded miserably. “He threw up in the classroom.”
“Oh boy.” Her eyes dropped to the front of his t-shirt, which was covered with flecks of dried vomit. “Well, c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to do that, Dawn; I can take care of him,” I said, but Dawn waved me off with her other hand.
“No, don’t you worry about it, Birthday Boy. I’ve got it covered. Go spend time with your girlfriend while she’s here. Where is Natalie, anyway?” She looked around, as if suddenly realizing Natalie wasn’t with us.
“Pouting on the front porch,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
Dawn raised her eyebrows. “Dare I ask why?”
“‘Cause Daddy said she shouldn’t have let me have cake for breakfast,” Mason spoke up helpfully.
“Well, we all let you have cake for breakfast, so if that’s what caused your tummyache, that’s as much my fault as it is hers. If I made a bad call this morning, I apologize,” she said, her eyes shifting from Mason to me.
I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t do anything wrong, Dawn, and neither did Natalie. The school secretary said there’s a stomach bug going around.”
“Then maybe you should tell Natalie that,” she said as she turned to walk upstairs with Mason, giving me a meaningful look over her shoulder.
With a sigh, I wheeled myself out to the front porch, where I found Natalie curled up in one of the wicker chairs, hugging her knees to her chest. She stared straight ahead and hardly looked at me as I rolled over to her. “You all right?” I asked.
She gave a single nod. “Fine.”
“Really? ‘Cause you don’t seem ‘fine.’” I waited for her to respond. When she said nothing, I went on, “Look, I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t trying to blame you for Mason getting sick. I shouldn’t have said that about the birthday cake. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“It hurt my feelings,” she admitted, finally making eye contact with me. “When I was growing up, we always got cake for breakfast on our birthdays. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, and neither did Dawn – I mean, it’s only one day. But, in hindsight, we probably should have checked with you first before we brought the cake up. You’re the parent here. I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re right; it’s not that big of a deal. I never would have said anything about it if he hadn’t thrown up, but it sounds like that had nothing to do with the cake. Even if it did, it’s not worth fighting about. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said, offering me a tiny smile. “I didn’t mean to cause drama on your birthday.”
“Why don’t you come inside with me then? I wanna check on Mason.”
“You go ahead. He needs his dad, not me. I’ll be in in a few minutes.”
“All right.”
I rolled back inside and took the elevator upstairs. Dawn had already run a warm bath for Mason and was kneeling next to the tub with a washcloth in her hand, rubbing his back in slow circles. “There, I bet that feels better, doesn’t it?” I heard her say softly as I watched from the doorway. Mason nodded.
I cleared my throat, not wanting to startle them. “How’s my boy?” I asked as I wheeled myself into the bathroom.
Mason shrugged. “My tummy still hurts,” he said in a small voice, trawling one finger slowly through the water in front of him.
Dawn glanced back at me over her shoulder. “He’s got a low-grade fever. 100.2.
“Aww, buddy… that’s no fun.” I frowned. “Looks like we better put my birthday dinner plans on hold for now.”
“You and Natalie can still go out and celebrate,” Dawn said. “I don’t mind staying here with him.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want you two to miss out. We’ll go another time. Let’s just order pizza and take it easy tonight.”
Dawn shrugged. “Whatever you wanna do. It’s your birthday.”
But the rest of my birthday didn’t go at all the way I wanted it to.
After Mason’s bath, we went back downstairs so he could watch me open presents before he went to bed. He lay on the couch looking pitiful, curled up in a blanket with a puke bowl perched on the coffee table beside him just in case, while Natalie sat in a chair next to me to help as needed.
“Hm… which one do you want your dad to open first?” she asked Mason after lining up my presents in front of the fireplace.
“That one!” He pointed to a bright green gift bag.
Natalie promptly picked it up. “Are you sure there’s actually something in this one?” she asked, shaking the bag a little before she put it on my lap. “It feels awfully light.”
Mason nodded adamantly. “There is! Open it, Dad!”
“It does feel light,” I observed, slipping my arm through the handles to lift the bag. “I wonder what could be in here.” I clumsily peeled back the layers of tissue paper to find a thin, cardboard package. Holding it between the heels of my hands, I pulled it out of the bag. “Star Wars Family Car Decals?” I laughed, looking at the picture on the front of the package in delight.
Dawn smiled. “That’s from Mason. We thought you could use them to pimp out your ride.”
“That’s such a cool idea. I love them. Thank you!” Of course, I had noticed cars with similar stick figure family decals in the drop-off line at Mason’s school – it seemed like the new, trendy thing for soccer moms to put on the back of their minivans – but I’d never seen a Star Wars set before. I smiled as I studied the package. “We’ll have to figure out which characters everybody’s gonna be.”
“Mason and I have already had multiple discussions about this,” Dawn said with a wink. “We decided it would make the most sense for you to be Darth Vader and him to be the kid Luke Skywalker. Father and son.”
“You don’t think I should be R2-D2?” I joked. “He’s the only one with wheels.”
“No, Darth Vader!” Mason whined. “And Mom can be Padme. ‘Cause she died, too.”
The last part seemed to come out of nowhere, knocking the wind out of me like a sucker punch to the gut. I felt my throat tighten, and for a few seconds, I literally couldn’t breathe, let alone respond. Of course, Mason had no idea how much his words, spoken with the innocence of a child who had no conscious memory of the trauma our family had gone through when he was a baby, would trigger my grief and survivor’s guilt.
But Dawn and Natalie knew. I saw them exchange glances, their eyes wide.
Dawn cleared her throat. “Actually,” she said gently, catching my eye, “I suggested maybe we could save Padme to put on for Natalie if she comes to live with us someday.”
“That would be nice,” Natalie said with a close-lipped smile, looking awkward. “I mean, of course, I’d love to be included, but only if it’s okay with Mason. I know we’ve only known each other for a few months.”
I finally managed to take a breath using one of the techniques I’d been taught in therapy, inhaling through my nose and holding the air in my lungs for a few seconds before I let it out slowly. It helped to relieve my anxiety, although the tension in the room was still as thick as the cake we’d had for breakfast.
I tried to come up with a way to lighten the mood. “How about this, Mason? We make Mom Padme, and Natalie can be one of the other characters. Like…” I looked down at the package in my lap again, scanning the different options. “Slave Leia?”
“Really? Slave Leia?” Natalie rolled her eyes as she looked over at the bikini-clad decal. “Isn’t Leia Darth Vader’s daughter? Don’t be a dirty old man,” she said, smacking me playfully on the arm.
“Well, there’s only two female characters to choose from!” I replied with a shrug. “Who are you going to be, Dawn?”
“Your faithful servant, C-3PO! I am fluent in over six million forms of communication,” Dawn quoted in a British accent, doing robot arms.
I chuckled. “Nice. You sure you don’t want me to be R2, Mason? Or how about Han Solo? Then Natalie as Princess Leia would make more sense.”
He shook his head solemnly.
“Well, we don’t have to decide right now. Here, open mine next,” said Dawn, handing me a blue bag. I was glad she had changed the subject.
Her gift turned out to be a t-shirt that said Musical Chairs Champion next to a handicapped symbol whose hands were raised over his head in triumph. It made me laugh.
“Mason helped me pick this one out, too,” she said, smiling.
“That’s hilarious. Thanks!”
The last present I opened was from Natalie. “This is sort of a birthday-slash-housewarming gift,” she said as she set the red bag in my lap.
Inside it, I found a folded piece of nylon fabric. Natalie helped me unfold it and held it up to reveal a large flag with the words HOUSE DIVIDED across the middle. Half of the flag had a blue background with the Kentucky Wildcats logo on it. The other half was red with the Georgia Bulldogs logo. “Cats and Dogs,” I said, smiling as I realized it represented each of our home states and favorite college teams. I looked at Natalie with raised eyebrows. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Returning my smile, she nodded. “If your offer still stands, I’d like to give L.A. a chance. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and… even with both of our crazy work schedules, I’m sure we could find some way to make it work.”
Her words were like music to my ears. I felt warmth flowing through my body as my smile spread across my face. “Of course, we can!” I replied eagerly, forgetting all about our earlier spat.
“Well, isn’t that cute! Here, hold it up so I can take a picture,” said Dawn, pulling out her phone.
Forcing my thumb through a grommet, I held onto one side of the flag while Natalie held the other. Dawn knelt down in front of us to snap the photo.
“You just won the award for best birthday present,” I whispered in Natalie’s ear as I leaned over to kiss her. “Thanks, babe.”
She beamed. “You’re welcome, babe.”
***