jumping on me, getting her face in mine. We sure don’t need a pet dog with her around. Julie, my blonde, very-well-endowed-and-looks-like-a-model-and-has- had-her-period-for-months best friend is grinning.
I take my time picking off the tape on the four edges of the box. It’s not that I’m not interested in getting this present, it’s just that what I really, really want doesn’t come in a box.
Finally I lift off the lid. Julie oohs and ahs at the pierced earrings. Maia grabs the next present. So much for a five-year-old’s attention span.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I say. I go around the table and give him a big hug.
Tears are there, glimmering behind his glasses. “Me thinks our little lady hath grown up,” he says in a choked voice. Sounds like he has a lisp to me, but I don’t ruin the moment with a sarcastic crack.
“Our little lady,” he repeats, shaking his head.
I’m not supposed to say hate, but I really do despise it when he says our. There is no more our. Half of the our died three years ago. Why can’t he accept that, change his lingo, and move on? Like I have. I don’t say my parents any more; I say my father.
I give my father a kiss on his scratchy cheek and he wraps an arm around me for a quick squeeze.
I return to my seat, still admiring the earrings. For an old guy, he did a pretty good job picking out the perfect pair, and finally I’ll have pierced ears like all the other girls at school.
Now I open Julie’s gift to me. “It’s totally awesome,” I say when I get the lid off the large box. I shake out the purple suede jacket.
“Try it on,” Julie says.
Giggling, I shove my arms through the satin-lined sleeves. It fits perfectly, just like when I tried it on at the store. I whirl in a circle. My straight-asa-stick black hair whips around and half of it ends up in my mouth when I stop, dizzy.
“That’s a very generous gift,” Daddy says, frowning a bit.
“She’s my best friend,” Julie says. They eye each other. Julie’s almost as tall as Daddy, even when they’re sitting down, and I guess she wins the staring contest ‘cause Daddy looks away first.
“Check out the pockets,” Julie hints.
I do and I find a pair of black suede gloves. “Wow,” I gasp. “They’re awesome, too.” I pull them on. I hold out my hands, admiring the fancy stitching on the backs and up each finger. I run around the table and give her a big hug.
“I want to open!” Maia shrieks. Both hands on another package, she rips the wrapping practically to shreds before anyone can stop her.
I take a flying lunge at the card as it sails by me. I miss. When I pick the envelope up off the floor, I recognize Grandma Milly’s spidery handwriting. I open it.
Wishing you a day of happiness. May all your wishes come true. [Amen, I add silently.] Love, Grandma Milly and Grandpa Dick
Daddy’s parents. They live a whole fifteen minutes away. Too far to actually be here for my birthday party.
Maia almost has the present completely unwrapped. I grab it out of her hands and she squeals.
Julie rolls her eyes. She doesn’t have a younger sister, just an older brother. Much older. Her parents are almost as old as my grandparents. Needless to say, she doesn’t get this sibling stuff.
I finish tearing off the paper and find a picture frame made out of wood with painted pink roses all around it, but no picture inside. As pretty as it is, I know it’ll sit empty on my wide windowsill just like all the others—all blank, looking at me, waiting for me to make a decision and give them faces.
One last envelope. It’s come in the mail from Florida, so I know it’s from Grandma Ann. Mom’s mom.
The card is an embarrassment with bears tumbling across the front of it. I think they’re Care Bears. Does she think I’m turning three or thirteen? Inside she’s written me a note, which I read out loud.
Dearest Lauren, I have a present for you, but I want to give it to you in person. I’m arriving on Sunday for a weeklong visit. Can’t wait to see you. With love, Grandma Ann
I glance up at Daddy. He’s looking a bit sick, but he’s trying hard to smile.
“You know she’s coming?” I say.
He nods. “Uh, yes. It’ll be the greatest pleasure having her here.”
Looks more like greatest illness to me, but I keep my mouth shut. Grandma Ann hasn’t been for a visit since Mom’s funeral. I picture a tall woman dressed in black. I think she always wore black, or dark blue anyway, like she was just waiting for someone to die.
“Is this a good thing?” Julie asks me.
“Is what a good thing?”
“Your grandmother’s visit.”
I shrug. “Sure,” I say. “She’s bringing a present, right? Heck, Jack the Ripper can come visit if he brings a present.” I laugh a little to show how funny I am, then I cut the cake. Cake-in-mouth is a good way to stop all awkward conversation.
After my dad, Maia, and I pig out (Julie is on diet number 363, so she only has a bite), we all clear the table. Daddy offers to do the dishes, an added present for my birthday, and sends me off to walk Julie home.
Julie really doesn’t need to be walked home. She only lives on the other side of our lawn, but I appreciate the chance to breathe some fresh air and look for a star. It’s still early, but I manage to find one just barely bright enough to overcome the light of the setting sun. I make my wish. The thing about wishing for the same thing over and over again is that I know all the wishing words by heart.
We walk across the grass. Julie’s house, or mansion, I should say, was the main house on an estate. We live in what used to be the servants’ quarters. So once we walk across my lawn in like fifteen steps, Julie still has another thousand to go to get to her house. But we have a ritual. We only walk each other to the property line. Obviously Julie always has a longer walk than I do, but I tell her it’s fair on account of her way-longer legs. One step for her is like three for me. Even so, it’s still unfair, but I just tell her she could always have her chauffeur come pick her up. She usually shuts up after that. She says she hates being rich. Poor thing.
At the property line, we hug.
“I love my new coat,” I say. I’m actually wearing it even though it’s warm out.
“Nothing’s too good for my best friend,” she says back.
I watch her walk a little way, then she turns and waves before heading home at a jog. That’s another thing she’s good at. Exercise. Sometimes we stay after school and go to the gym together, when I’m in the mood for torture and shame. I’m not usually into those two things, so I mostly stay away.
I turn and walk back, my eyes lifted to the sky. More stars are out, but that first one I saw is still burning
