24. Happy Birthday

" Should I be worried? " I asked under my breath as my mother danced around the kitchen, pulling bowls onto the counter― dumping bags of chips and spooning containers of dip into them.

" Honestly? " Jonathan asked from beside me, watching the same spectacle.

" Of course, " I stressed.

" Probably. " His honesty made my stomach churn.

" That's what I thought, " I breathed in defeat.

" Hi, " Sara greeted joyfully as she opened the front door. I turned toward her, covering the worry with a smile.

" Hi, " I responded.

" Sara! " my mother exclaimed, brushing past me to give Sara a hug.

" Happy Birthday, Rachel, " Sara offered, hugging her in return while eyeing me in shock over her shoulder. I shrugged in response.

" I brought you something, " Sara told her upon being released. She opened her bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped package about the size of a deck of cards.

" You're so sweet. " My mother opened it without hesitation and removed a necklace from the box. She held the delicate silver chain in front of her. " It's beautiful. Thank you. "

" You're welcome, " Sara returned, taking off her jacket.

" Sara, you must know how to cook, " my mother insisted, fastening the chain around her neck.

" Not really, " Sara confessed. " My mother's tried to encourage it, but it hasn't taken yet. "

" What's with you guys? " my mother shook her head. She returned to the kitchen where she proceeded to pull ingredients out of the refrigerator. " I'm going to have to give Anna a hard time about this. What are you going to do when you go to college? "

A knock followed at the door. Jonathan went to open it as Sara and I took the bowls of chips into the living room. Jared entered carrying a bottle of wine with a bow around it. I stopped short at the sight of it.

" Well, hello, " my mother greeted with a smile.

" Rachel, this is Jared, " Sara introduced, slipping her arm through his.

" Happy birthday, " he stated, presenting the bottle to my mother.

" My favorite, " she gushed, taking the bottle from him. " Thank you. "

" Where's Evan? " I asked, scanning the driveway. When I didn't see any sign of him, I shut the door.

" He drove separately, " Jared explained, following after my mother and Sara toward the kitchen. " He should be here any second. "

I remained in the foyer, hoping Evan would arrive soon― and not wanting to go anywhere near the kitchen in fear that I'd be recruited to cook something.

" Are you friends with Evan? " my mother questioned, laying tortillas on a griddle.

" He's my brother, " Jared explained, standing in the kitchen doorway.

" I would have never guessed that, " my mother replied, eyeing his broader frame and blond hair, flipped out around his ears. " You look as much alike as Emily and I. " She let out a laugh, making Jared smile. " So you must know how to cook. "

" Not at all, " Jared confessed, glancing at Sara― obviously not sure what to make of my mother. " My brother and I are pretty opposite in just about everything. Is there anything else I can do to help? "

" Do you know how to make margaritas? "

" That I can help with, " Jared replied, continuing into the kitchen.

" Great, " I muttered under my breath.

The door opened with a knock, and Evan entered with the poker table.

" Let me help you with that, " Jonathan offered, appearing from the living room to take the table. Evan followed him with folding chairs in each hand.

" Finally! " my mother exclaimed. " Evan, please come help me cook these quesadillas. You and I appear to be to be the only ones who have any talent in the kitchen. "

" Jared has talent, " Sara defended. " It's just not in the kitchen, that's all. "

" Oh, so what room are we talking about? " my mother smirked. " The bedroom? "

" We did not just go there, " Jared blurted in disbelief, looking from my mother to Sara. Sara started laughing, and I stared, wide-eyed, in shock at my mother's inappropriate candor― wondering if she'd already started drinking.

Evan returned to the kitchen after hanging up his jacket. " Uh, okay. So, what do you want me to do? " he asked, having no idea what he'd just walked in on.

" Flip them when they're ready, " she instructed, handing Evan the spatula. " Want a drink? "

" I think I might need one, " Jared interjected. My mother pulled two glasses from the cabinet, filled them with ice and held them out for Jared to fill with the margarita blend he’d created.

She handed one glass over and held up hers with a smirk, " To being talented. "

Jared raised his eyebrows in shock and clinked against her glass.

" Hey, I want in on this, " Sara insisted, filling another glass to tap with theirs. I tried to keep from having heart failure as I watched my mother quickly drain half of her glass. I realized I had to prepare myself. This was about to happen.

" You okay? " Jonathan asked, passing me as he carried in more folding chairs from the porch and set them around the poker table.

" Not until tomorrow morning, " I muttered, deciding to follow him to help set up the chairs.

" Emily, would you put on some music? " my mother hollered from the kitchen, although there was no need to yell since I could hear every word they were saying.

" Sure, " I replied. I flipped through the CD collection, not finding anything I would deem party-worthy.

" Here, " Jonathan offered, handing me his iPod. " There's a playlist on there for Rachel's party. "

" Thanks, " I accepted, plugging the iPod into the wire attached to the stereo. I scrolled to the Rachel's Party playlist. My mother hollered in excitement from the kitchen when the first song came on.

" Perfect, Emily, " she praised.

I was about to explain that it wasn't my selection, when Jonathan stopped me. " Just let her think it was you. "

" Okay, " I shrugged, not understanding why it mattered.

About half an hour later, the door opened and six people let themselves in, carrying brown bags filled with alcohol and snacks.

" Is this where the party is? " a guy with a tightly trimmed beard asked peeking in the kitchen. He opened his arms when my mother squealed in excitement and rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck while kissing him on the cheek. " Happy birthday, Rach, " he offered, kissing her cheek in return. She hugged each person, directing them to hang up their coats and instructing them to place their beers in the cooler on the porch. She was so excited. I tried to let the worry go and be happy for her. This was her birthday after all.

" We brought the other poker table and chairs, " one of the guys announced, popping open a can of beer after returning from the porch.

We had to introduce ourselves since my mother was too pre-occupied pouring margaritas for the two women she'd dragged into the kitchen.

" Wow, Emily, " a woman named Sharon noted upon meeting me. " I can't believe how much you've grown up. "

" Thanks, " I responded, studying the woman who obviously knew me. Her voice was crackly from too many years of smoking, and her face was etched with lines from a life that didn't care for her. She wore her curly black hair long over her shoulders. Her dark eyes were heavily lined in black and layered with mascara.

" You still look just like your dad, " she continued.

" Right? " my mother chimed in from behind Sharon, holding out a glass for her to take. " I swear she's not mine. " She laughed playfully.

Sharon cackled. " You've been trying to get away with that one for years. But I was the one who drove you to the hospital when you went into labor, remember? "

" I couldn't exactly drive myself, " my mother huffed.

" The bottle of wine may have had something to do with that, " Sharon added, her laugh turning into a cough. I narrowed my eyes and looked from her to my mother.

" Relax, Emily, " my mother chuckled. " She's only joking. " I nodded with an awkward smile. Sharon clamped her mouth shut to keep from laughing, causing her to convulse in a coughing fit.

" Can I smoke? " Sharon asked in a rasp, pulling a pack from her pocket.

" Porch, " my mother instructed. " I'll come out with you. "

My mother and Sharon disappeared out the front door.

Evan finally emerged from the kitchen with several platters of quesadillas. Jared and Jonathan were helping two of the new arrivals move furniture to make room for the additional poker table. Sara and I brought in pitchers of margaritas and set them on the coffee table.

" I know, right? " my mother said to Sharon as they entered from the porch, the smell of cigarettes swirling around them.

" Evan, you can have a beer, " my mother insisted. " It's my birthday. Besides, you're staying over, so you don't have to worry about driving. " She smiled and handed him a freshly opened bottle.

" Thanks. ” He accepted it and placed his hand on my back, probably sensing my uneven breaths. I watched as my mother poured herself another drink. Closing my eyes, I exhaled quickly, trying to remain calm.

" You okay? " Evan bent down to ask in my ear.

I played off my worried expression. " I'm not so sure I know what I'm doing with poker. "

" I'll help you, " he assured me. " I'll give you a cheat sheet so you know what hand beats what. "

" Okay, " I replied, trying to appear relaxed. I met Jonathan’s eyes across the room. He looked from my mother to me and shook his head. He was expecting something to happen, and my gut twisted in a knot, knowing it too. I looked away and tried to shake it off.

" Let's play, " my mother announced, herding everyone into the living room.

As she drank more and more, my mother played less and less. She finally declared that whatever Jonathan earned would be her winnings. She hopped from table to table, initiating conversation; then she’d jump up to select songs on the iPod and dance around with whomever she could pull away from the game.

And I played poker, or at least tried to. I had no idea what I was doing. I kept glancing at Evan's cheat sheet to decide if my hand was worthy of placing a bet. We had to buy chips, so the betting was real― the birthday girl's insistence. This kept a few of the guys a little too serious, considering it was supposed to be fun.

A few margarita pitchers later, my mother was a giggly mess, sitting on Jonathan's lap with her arms draped around his neck.

" Come on, baby. You need to bet big on this hand, " my mother urged, kissing him on the cheek. With that statement, one of the guys folded.

" Thanks, Rachel, " Jonathan replied, placing his bet.

" No, you should bet more than that, " she garbled, pushing a few more chips in. " We're winning this hand. " She stuck her tongue out at Sara and the other guy who hadn't folded. Sara laughed at her, taking a sip of her margarita.

" Sara, I like you, " she spontaneously confessed, the affects of the tequila surfacing.

" Thanks, Rachel, " Sara replied with a smile. " Happy birthday. " She raised her glass for my mother to clumsily tap.

" Come dance with me, " my mother insisted, popping up from Jonathan's lap and grabbing Sara's hand.

" But I'm still playing, " Sara argued feebly. My mother grabbed her hand and pulled her from her chair, making Sara abandon her cards on the table.

My mother twirled herself under Sara's arm as she held her hand above her head.

I watched from the other table as Jared shuffled the deck.

" You don't say much, huh? " the woman with bleach blond hair noted. I thought her name was Sally, but maybe it was Ally.

" Not really, " I replied, keeping my eyes on the cards as Jared placed them on the table in front of me.

" Don't drink either, huh? " she slurred, holding her head up on her hand.

" No, I don't, " I answered.

" You used to make us drinks when you were little, " she shared, making me pause before picking up my cards. " You were so cute, getting us beers. Rachel always had the best parties. "

I studied my cards intently, knowing Evan and Jared were watching me.

" I'll take two cards, " I requested, pretending not to be fazed by the glimpse of my previous life living with my mother.

In truth, it was appearing to be not too much different than it was now― except I didn't take sips from the beer cans anymore. Our life was full of emotional waves, even more so when I was young― laughing one minute, crying and screaming the next. There was always music playing, and there seemed to be a constant flow of people in the house. But despite the bodies, I was very much on my own. That's when my focus became school and sports. Despite my mother's lack of interest in my academics, she always made certain I had soccer and basketball― even if she was incapable of driving me to the practices and games herself.

My mother and Sara's laughter drew our attention. My mother bumped into the side table, knocking over a few pictures. Sharon joined them from her post on the porch, trailing the cigarette fumes in with her.

" What do you do, Ally? " Evan intervened, taking a sip from his beer bottle.

" I'm a bartender, " she offered, directing her attention toward Evan and lingering a little too long. " Can't believe you're still in high school. And wait... " She looked from me to Evan. " You two are dating, right? "

Evan nodded, before requesting two cards from Jared.

" I miss high school, " she sighed, taking a gulp from her glass.

" No you don't, " my mother countered, plopping down in the vacant seat next to Ally. " You hated high school. "

Ally started laughing. " That's true. But we sure did get away with a lot of shit. "

" Definitely, " my mother recollected with giggle.

" Do you remember when you convinced Mr. Hall to let you skip that test because you told him you had wicked bad cramps, and then we went into the woods to get high? "

My mother laughed hard in remembrance, causing her eyes to water.

In between hysterics, Ally added, " And the time you gave Emily that Crown and Coke and then we videoed her bumping into the wall for like an hour. "

My mother held her stomach as she rolled in laughter. The guy next to Ally chuckled, " I remember that. You were hysterical. "

I forced a chuckle, like I remembered it fondly, then folded and made an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom. But when I opened the bathroom door to leave, my mother was waiting to get in.

" Emily! " she declared happily. " Are you having fun? "

" Yeah, it's great, " I told her, trying to smile. " Are you having fun? "

" I'm trying, " she said passing me to go into the bathroom. " It would be better if he would stop staring at you. " And with that, she shut the bathroom door, leaving me outside, stunned. Who was she talking about?

I turned toward the stairs as Jonathan was reaching the top.

" Hey, " he greeted. " Are you in line? "

" No, " I replied heading toward the stairs, still shocked by what my mother had said before shutting the door.

" What's going on? "

" Uh, " I shrugged, completely mystified.

" What? " The door opened behind us and my mother emerged. We both whipped around.

" Aahh, " she said, as if she'd caught us. " And there you two are. You know I know. I mean it's so obvious. But can't you wait at least until you're in California? I mean it's my birthday. You don't have to shove it in my face. "

" Rachel, what are you talking about? " Jonathan laughed uncomfortably.

" Whatever, " she said, dismissing him. " I'm over it. "

I continued to gawk at her. " You can't think there's anything going on between us, " I insisted.

" Maybe, " she shrugged and trod down the stairs, leaving us staring after her. I took a deep breath and followed her as Jonathan went into the bathroom.

The rest of the night, we didn't even look at each other. Or at least I didn't look at him. I refused to fuel my mother's drunken delusions, and I really didn't want her saying anything in front of Evan.

As the money dwindled, so did the participants. Jared and Sara were the first to leave.

" I think I got a little drunk, " Sara laughed in my ear as she clumsily hugged me good-bye.

" It's okay, " I told her, patting her awkwardly on the back as Jared waited to help her put her jacket on. " I'll talk to you tomorrow. "

Not long after, the other poker table and chairs were folded up as one of the car loads decided to head out as well.

" But you can't leave, " my mother begged, hugging Ally.

" Happy Birthday, Rach. "

My mother walked them out to the porch to see them off.

" Who wants a shot? " she announced upon closing the door. It was a question that wasn't expected to be answered as she lined up the shot glasses on the coffee table, filled them with tequila, and began handing them to everyone, including me.

When she set the gold liquid in front of me, I cringed and glanced across the table at Jonathan.

" To being forever young, " she declared, holding her shot glass in the air. " Come on, Evan, pick it up. "

Evan raised his shot along with everyone else, slinging it back with a grimace. I didn't touch mine. Jonathan slid it surreptitiously across the table and took it down before sliding it back in front of me.

" Thatta girl, Emily, " my mother praised, collecting the glasses.

While she was in the kitchen, Evan leaned over and asked, " Want to stay or go? "

I bit my lip in contemplation. Before I could make a decision, the bearded guy folded his hand and declared, " Well, I think I'm broke enough. Sharon, we're going. "

" No, " she mumbled from her slouched position on the couch.

" Yeah, you're about ready to pass out, " he noted, standing from the table.

" Not you too, " my mother sulked when she found him retrieving their coats from the closet.

" Your guy took all my money, " he told her, " so happy birthday. Don't spend it all at once. " She gave him a hug and brief peck on the lips.

With it just being the three of us, and my poker chips down to a handful, Jonathan suggested, " Cash out? "

" Sure, " I answered standing from the table. Evan remained to help Jonathan put the chips back in their silver case. I headed into the kitchen to begin picking up.

My mother came in from the porch shivering. " It's just us, huh? " She observed the guys in the living room and me in the kitchen.

" I did have fun, " she said from behind me.

" Good, " I answered, dumping the half full glasses in the sink.

" I'm sorry about upstairs, you know, with Jonathan. I can be pretty stupid sometimes. "

I could only nod, not knowing how to respond.

Then out of nowhere she asked, " So you don't remember, right? "

I turned around and tightened my eyes in confusion. " What? About your parties when I lived with you? I remember. "

" I was just thinking, " she said, ignoring my answer. She settled down on the kitchen chair― probably because she was having a hard time standing. " I've had to relive that day for all these years, and you don't remember it. " Her face was smooth and emotionless as her eyes lazily flipped up at me.

I opened my mouth to ask her what she was talking about, but then I realized― she was talking about the day he died. I closed my mouth and averted my gaze.

" You always had to wear pink, " she remembered, lost in the past as her eyes glazed over. " He bought you a new pink dress every year. "

I was held hostage by her words, unable to tell her to stop. My heart started to beat faster.

" You were waiting for him by the window, wanting to know why he was late. You kept asking where he was every five minutes. " Sorrow flooded her face. " It's not fair that you don't remember the day I can never forget. When was the last time you celebrated your birthday, Emily? " Her question sliced through me.

My chest froze, and I had to force air into my lungs. All of a sudden, I wasn't in the room anymore. I was in my pink frilly dress, staring out the window.

" He would drive home early from work to hang those stupid colored lanterns in the backyard, " she recalled impassively.

For a second I saw them. They were different shapes and colors, strewn in crisscrossing lines across the backyard. My stomach was swallowed in coldness, and I couldn't move.

" He'd bring home your cake, made from that ridiculously expensive bakery in the city. It always had to be chocolate with raspberry filling. "

" When's daddy going to be home? " I asked, the curtains spread so I could keep watch.

" He shouldn't be long, " was what I was told each time. It wasn't my mother who answered me, but another woman. I looked over my shoulder to see her pulling a pan out of the oven.

" But it's getting dark, and he never comes home in the dark, " I argued, continuing to stare out the window.

" Anything yet? " she asked, concern resonating in her voice as a man entered the room with a phone in his hand.

" No, " he answered. " They said he left the office hours ago. " The man looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.

" Rachel! " he hollered.

" What? " she answered from upstairs.

" I think we need to make the call. "

Before she could answer, the phone rang. She rushed down the stairs as the man answered. " Who is it? " she demanded before he even said hello.

The anxiety in her eyes made me nervous. I kept watching her, unable to look away from her distressed face. It changed from worry to despair when the words spilled from his mouth after he hung up the phone. " There's been an accident. "

" You took him from me, " she murmured, not removing her eyes from mine.

" Rachel? What did you do? " Jonathan's voice sounded like he was talking through a tunnel.

My vision blurred with tears. Her eyes widened in recognition. " Oh, " she breathed, " You remember. "

Pain eased through my body like venom. I opened my mouth to cry out, but nothing happened.

" What did you do? " Jonathan demanded again more urgently. " Emma, are you okay? "

" Emma what's wrong? " Evan's muted voice was etched with concern.

I looked into her eyes again, and swore I saw loathing. I winced.

I couldn't be there any longer. I needed to get out. But I couldn't. My legs refused to cooperate. I choked on the sobs that were suffocating me. My body was on fire, searing in pain. I had to get away from her.

Before I knew what I'd done, I was out the front door― the legs that had failed me moments before were now carrying me in a run down the street. I couldn't run fast enough. But no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't escape the ache that was crushing my chest. I breathed in, but I couldn't get enough air.

I ran down random street after street before collapsing on the damp, muddy ground, gripping my chest. It felt like it was about to burst open. I screamed in pain.

It all came back to me in a rush. The call. My mother yelling out in denial. I watched as if a spectator of a play. I didn't understand, but at the same time, I understood too well. He wasn't coming home. He was never coming home again.

I don't know how long I lay on the cold, wet ground, consumed in grief. I was pulled back to the surface when a warm hand brushed across my cheek. He gently propped my head on his lap as he soothed me with comforting words I couldn't quite make out.

" It's okay, " he whispered.

" It hurts so bad, " I gasped, my body tense. " Please make it stop. " The tears continued down my cheeks.

Evan pulled me off the ground and carried me to the car. He gently set me down on the passenger seat, bending down to kiss my forehead. I curled up in a ball, still clutching my chest― afraid that if I let it go, I would fall apart.

I began to shiver, the cold earth having seeped into my bones. The warmth of the car did little to ease the shaking. Evan draped his jacket over me, and I burrowed my nose into the collar, breathing in his scent.

I fought for each breath, my jaw quivering. I was consumed by the pain, unable to escape it. It was crushing me.

I was trapped in my grief, barely aware of where we were when the car stopped. I think he may have tried to talk to me, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. His voice was muffled and distant. I closed my eyes and pressed my face against his chest when he lifted me from the car.

I remained still as he rested me on his bed. I felt my shoes slide off my feet and my pants glide over my legs. I couldn't focus, but my eyes were open. I could only feel, and I didn't know how to shut it off. I couldn't push it back down to the hidden depths of darkness where I'd been protected from it for so many years. I was losing him all over again.

Warmth pressed against my back and his arms pulled me into him. I gripped his hand, holding it tightly, keeping myself tethered to the present just enough so that I could regain perspective of where I was, lying on Evan's bed.

" I'm here, Emma. I'll never let you go, " he whispered in my ear, holding me tighter.

My frame shook as I cried, releasing the torment that had been trapped since that day, ten years ago. I found reprieve sometime in the early hours of the next day when exhaustion shrouded the pain and I drifted into a sleep filled with vivid images of my father.