the door.
“Take two steps back, okay?”
I do, and I hear his footfalls as he steps into the house.
Without my eyes to rely on, I’m forced to use the senses I take most for granted, smell and sound.
“Come, on,” his deep voice resonates he takes my hand and leads me forward. I inhale and breathe in the familiar scent of him, but pick up the smell of something sweet. As we walk, there’s the whisper of sound that I can’t identify. I can feel the change in the light as we walk into the piano room, the wall of windows that overlook the side garden make the room warmer and brighter than the rest of the house.
He brings us to a stop. He lets go of my hand and I can hear him doing something. Impatience prickles and I shift from leg to leg.
“Can I open my eyes?” I ask when what feels like minutes go by without any word from him.
“Count to ten and then I’ll be ready.”
I count down and when I get to one, for some reason I hesitate, and my heart skips a few beats.
“Come on. I promise you’ll like it,” he coaxes in the voice that is the most beautiful part of him. I’m safe. It’s Carter.
I open my eyes and gasp in delight. He’s standing by the piano next to a cake that’s alight with dozens of candles. There are balloons, green and dark blue ones shaped like clovers floating the air around the piano.
I can’t stop my jaw from dropping.
“Carter, what are you doing?” I demand as I approach the piano. I stare at the cake. It’s in the shape of a clover too. “Happy Birthday Lucky Queen Beth” is scrawled in gold frosting on top. I’m speechless and overwhelmed. And confused. I turn to look up at him, he’s smiling so big, so bright. “It’s not my birthday.” I say, shaking my head.
He slings an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug and I let my head fall against his shoulder. It feels so good to be with him like this.
“Whatever else happened that day, it’s also the day you were born. But, I understand that day not feeling like one you can celebrate. So, I figured we could just pick a new one A day that’s yours alone. What do you think?” He turns us so we’re facing each other.
I gaze up at his perfect face, my throat tightens at the naked hope and happiness in his eyes.
I want to launch myself into his arms. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful for me.
Inside, happiness is starting to rise and reach for parts of me it ceded ground to last year.
“So, I should just pick a date?” I glance at the cake, the candles melting and dropping wax on it.
“Choose a date that means something. Whatever makes sense to you…and start over.”
Start over…. What an exciting prospect. One that I want, suddenly more than anything.
“Today.”
He laughs. “It doesn’t have to be. I’m just kicking it off. Think about it and pick something with a memory that makes you feel good.”
I smile and nod in agreement.
But I already know that what’s happening right now, will be that memory.
“Let’s call this year 1. Shall we?”
And then, he belts out the most beautiful rendition of happy birthday ever.
I needed this. A chance to focus on something other than tragedy.
I make a wish – the same one I always do. For my one remaining sibling, Phil, to find his way home.
Then, he pulls out a package from his pocket, it’s the shape of spaghetti box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with gold string.
“For you.” He hands it over and I my hands tremble as I take it from him. I lay it on the piano and open it carefully so I don’t tear the wrapping. I’m going to keep it forever. I want to never forget this day.
I open the cardboard box find beneath the wrapping and tears spring to my eyes. Inside, there’s a beautiful set of paint brushes, all gleaming handles and perfect brushes the color of sun bleached wheat.
Each of them is embossed with a four leaf clover and the letters QB. I think my heart is going to explode.
“Oh my God, Carter.”
“Do you love them?”
I look over at him, he looks so pleased with himself.
“I love them so much.” I say and finger the handles lovingly. “Thank you for this. This is amazing.” I wave at