Happy Birthday

CW: kidnapping, drugs, sex, etc

“Hey, Girl,” Maya answered her phone breathlessly while negotiating her wallet back into her purse and pushing past the crowds of people entering the party store as she attempted to exit.

“Wow! You sound stressed. You doing ok?” asked Phoebe. She seemed calm, cool, and collected as usual.

“Cara! Come here! You have a treat already! Walk away from the candy,” said Maya.

Phoebe took a breath and said, “Almost all the cupcakes are done. I have one more batch to frost for our birthday girl. All pink frosting, I promise.”

As Maya finally stepped onto the sidewalk, Cara in one hand, phone in the other, she uttered a quick “thank you,” and then ended the call. She clutched her daughter’s sweaty, sticky palm as if her life depended on it. Heat waves poured onto the sidewalk shore from the freshly paved lot. The bag holding the party favors slipped from Maya’s shoulder, but not onto the ground so she soldiered on as a flurry of pink and gold balloons blustered about her. The party was in T-minus 3 hours. 

When they got to the car, a beat up Volkswagen with too many miles on it, Cara obediently opened her door and got buckled in. Then, with grubby hands and a gleeful smile, she insisted on holding her party balloons, despite her mother’s warning that they would be given to her friends before they departed. “But I get to keep the big one, right, Mommy?” insisted Cara. Maya paused at the word, gave her daughter a forehead kiss, and nodded. She very quickly shut the door, tossed the bags of party supplies in the passenger seat, and zipped out of the parking lot. She knew all too well the dangers of being a single mother with a daughter in a parking lot. That’s how people end up kidnapped, you know. 

“I had that dream again, Mommy,” said Cara quietly. It was clear she was admitting a secret.

“What happened this time?” asked Maya, tightening her grip on the steering wheel, shielding her heart from her daughter’s response.

“Nothing,” she replied, shrugging little shoulders in a unicorn tank top. Then, she explained, “Same old, same old. The lady with the red hair was singing. We were dancing. And I hugged her.” 

“Does it scare you? The dream?” asked Maya. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“No. I’m always happy,” said Cara. 

“That’s good,” said Maya.

“Yeah,” agreed Cara and the subject was dropped. Damn you, Gigi. Damn you, cursed Maya in her mind. She glanced into the rearview mirror at her precious little girl with deep green eyes. She loved that child more than anything else in the world.

Their red door swung open, wafting a gust of A/C outside as they navigated into the home. Cara, high on sugar already, skipped merrily to her Montessori kitchen set where she washed her hands before setting tea up for her stuffed animals. Nine is a good age, thought Maya; she’s wasn’t old enough to think playing is beyond her. She smiled as she unloaded the supplies and then set to work. The banner needed to be hung, the party favors needed to be stuffed, and the house needed a good clean up. Cara was happy to help, knowing each task she ticked off led her one step closer to party time. They wiped down the kitchen table, put away the toys, and Cara went to have a shower while her mother mopped and vacuumed.

Cara wanted to pick out her own outfit, which Maya happily obliged if she got to help her with her hair. Cara had a quick shower and then met her daughter, wearing a bright red tutu and equally red shirt, in her bathroom. Teeth were brushed, hair was braided, and then Maya held out Cara’s first gift of the day. It was a little, pink, tube of lipgloss which she helped her apply. 

“You’ve grown up so fast, my girl,” cooed Maya. Cara nodded triumphantly and spun around, asking as she did each year what she was like when she was an infant. This question pained Maya. “You know I didn’t really know you until you were a toddler,” said Maya. She held her own gaze in the mirror, not blinking or pausing, lest the memories come trickling in as they did every year. Cara tilted her head back, leaning up so she could see her mother as she blinked slowly. Maya saw Cara in her toddler clothes, grabbing at plastic cups, jamming shapes into incorrect holes. She heard her soft voice, babbling and singing to herself. It was on that Tuesday afternoon seven years ago that she knew Cara was her daughter-her soulmate. How could she not be?

Maya gave Cara a shoulder squeeze when the doorbell rang. Cara raced down and exclaimed with glee at the sight of Auntie Phoebe. Maya took a shuddering breath, practiced a smile in the mirror, and headed downstairs. 

“Phoebe!” said Maya, arms outstretched for a hug. Little Pat came running up for a hug instead. After a big squeeze, Cara came rushing in, taking the little boy by the hand and leading the six year old to the living room to play. The feeling Maya had when she hugged her friend was indescribable. Phoebe, despite the fact that they only really met a few years ago, somehow felt like home. She smelled faintly of clove and carried herself like a woodland fairy-merely a guest on this green planet’s surface. Her dreadlocks had been off putting to Cara when she first saw them at the neighborhood pool, but the way that Phoebe cheered on Pat as he learned to backfloat for the first time solidified her as “good people” to both Cara and Maya. 

Cara, for her part, adored playing big sister to Pat. She was always very careful, walking on the side with the pool’s ledge, when open swim started. Playdates were scheduled, popsicles were eaten, and a couple glasses of wine were enjoyed long after the kids went to bed. “The big one-oh,” said Phoebe when Maya pulled away from the hug. “Can you believe she’s grown up so fast,” she said. Those words echoed in Maya’s mind, so fast. So fast.

“I can’t,” she said and then offered to take the cupcakes from Phoebe who had begun yammering about which ones were gluten free, sugar free, etc. They were placed on the counter and the two women took their seat, waiting for other classmates from swim school to arrive.

Even as Maya fell into the rhythm of gossip with her friend, answering the door, and caring for Cara, she still saw all of her memories in the back of her eyelids. There was the way Gigi gave her a hug when they first met. She had smelled of booze and sweat. Her green eyes were always bloodshot. Stepping into that foyer had been a dream come true for Maya at the ripe age of 18. Her footsteps echoed on wood floors as she uttered accolade after accolade. Gigi stumbled up the stairs and Maya followed, her heart racing the moment that the playroom door opened. A beautiful, babbling toddler with her mother’s flaming red hair sat happily in the center, singing a little song to herself. 

Phoebe waved a hand in her friend’s face saying, “Maya? Maya? Earth to Maya?” She laughed when Maya visibly shook herself out of her memory. She then looked expectantly at Phoebe who explained, “We were just commenting on Cara’s hair. It looks so beautiful! Where did she get that color from?” Maya fingered her own mossy brown locks and shrugged. Phoebe nodded knowingly saying, “Right! Adopted. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” said Maya, “Adopted. No need to apologize.” 

“Adopted all on your own?” asked Bridget, one of the moms who was always late to swim. She wore her blonde curls, once the talk of the town, now limp with sweat and exhaustion, in a messy bun. “I can’t imagine choosing to be a single mother,” she said, turning her head so she faced Phoebe.

Maya cleared her throat to add levity to her rebuttal, “What can I say? I was called to motherhood and a man wasn’t coming around any time soon. Besides, the moment I met Cara I just knew she was my girl.”

Phoebe swept in, seeing Maya’s flushed cheeks. She wrapped one arm around her friend and asked, knowing the story by heart, “Will you tell us that story again?” Cara’s ears must have been burning as she rushed onto her mother’s lap. All the mothers moved their chairs so they could face Maya. Maya the storyteller, she thought. 

She took a deep breath and then smiled as she launched into her tale, “It was June, a few weeks before Cara’s birthday. I had been invited over…by the agency…to come for a playdate. There was a woman there, Gigi, who was, like, the nanny. She made sure nothing bad would happen to Cara. Ridiculous, I know, but protocol is protocol.” She turned to face her daughter, “Cara, I just knew you were my girl. Your smile was my smile. Your laugh was my laugh. And you gave the best hugs. Still do.” She wrapped her arms around her baby and then looked to the adults, “We met again a few more times and then I signed all the paperwork. I took her home and the first few nights were rough. She kept calling out for Gigi.”

Bridget interjected, “That’s to be expected though.” She raised a finger knowingly. As if she knew anything about Gigi. Maya closed her eyes. She saw Gigi sprawled out in bed, the room a hazy, smoky hell hole. A mysterious man whose eyes seemed to linger on Cara always seemed to be lurking in the shadows. Gigi’s husband was always away on business. That was the precise reason why they needed a nanny. 

Maya pressed her lips together, choosing her words carefully, “Yes. To be expected. But Cara adjusted and so did I.”

“Did you ever consider open adoption?” asked Bridget. Her fake lashes batted like a brand new butterfly’s wings.

Maya cleared her throat, sat up a little straighter, and wrapped her arms around her precious baby girl answering with a shaking voice, “No, no. The father wasn’t involved and the mother…she really couldn’t handle it. This is the family we built. That’s the one that matters.”

“Such a beautiful family,” added Phoebe. She stood and dusted her hands of imaginary dirt asking the room, “Now, who’s ready for lunch?” The kids boisterously jumped up and ran to the table, now laden with frozen pizzas. Phoebe began cutting everything up as Maya poured the drinks. Bridget distributed napkins and whispered a scolding to her daughter when she reached for a second slice. What a shame she can’t love the child for who she is. Doesn’t she know how lucky she is? Maya thought to herself while shaking her head.

She didn’t notice when Bridget stepped up close to her asking, “So you think you’ll adopt again?”

“I doubt they’d let me,” replied Maya. Then, seeing Bridget’s expression, she covered up the words that spilled too many secrets saying, “Oh. I just mean, you know, it’s a lot of work. And stuff…and I’d have to get another lawyer, sit for the interviews again…and that’s a lot for a single mom.”

Bridget’s barely there blonde eyebrows returned to their original places as she said, “Oh. But such a shame to not let Cara have a sibling.” The two women watched as Cara pulled little bites of pizza off the slice and handed them to Pat who held his mouth open like a baby bird. Maya excused herself and began offering the kids refills. Then, the party moved to the backyard where squirt guns and huge buckets of water lay in wait. They ran about the yard, screaming with glee. 

The image brought the memory of summertime routine to Maya’s mind. She had spent hours outside, coloring with chalk as Cara played in her baby pool. Maya had rushed to Cara’s side when the man from Gigi’s bed came sauntering up the steps to the house. His eyes lingered on Cara. Maya wrapped a towel around the babe and protectively shielded her from his gaze, even as she cried out, wanting to play more. The man took out a key and let himself inside. Maya didn’t follow, but heard a heated argument over money. The man needed more, Gigi didn’t have it. Then, she heard the woman’s pleas that she needed the man. She needed what he had. Gigi promised her husband would be back from business in two weeks, then he could have all the money he wanted. Until then, the bedroom would have to suffice. 

Apparently it did because the foul stench that Maya now knew so well filled the air. She decided at that moment, it all needed to be done. She dressed Cara, packed a small suitcase, and promised “an adventure.” Then, she approached Gigi’s door. She knocked a few times and said, “Gigi, we need some groceries. Can I get some cash from the safe?”

Gigi flew to the door, throwing it open as she demanded, “You know the code?”

Maya nodded cautiously, her eyes stinging from the dragon’s breath den they had created,“Yeah. Your husband gave me it when I first started? Remember?”

“Can you get me some money?” asked Gigi.

Maya nodded and glanced back, only to confirm that Gigi wasn’t following her as she rushed into the master bedroom, an area that Gigi never set foot in. Their closet had once been beautiful, filled with luxurious dresses and business suits. Now, it held empty hangers on his side, but the dresses remained on hers. Gigi hadn’t managed to fit into any of them in a long time. Maya approached the safe, typed in Gigi’s anniversary date, and smiled when the light burst green. She saw before her a few jewelry boxes, a couple credit cards, and the cash. There was also a large manilla envelope which she opened. Maya snagged Cara’s birth certificate and social security card before sealing it and placing it back. She tucked the jewelry and cards into her purse, she grabbed a few hundred dollars off the top of the cash, and then she stashed the rest in her bag. She stood, closed the safe, and gazed at the room one last time. 

The bay windows allowed plenty of light. There was a stone fireplace and a single photo from their wedding day. Maya walked over, undid the back of the frame, and placed the photo of the stunningly gorgeous redhead with the James Dean type groom in her purse as well. Cara may want it, one day. As she walked out of the room, she lingered by Cara’s playroom. Maya’s new apartment may pale in comparison to this place in luxury, but she knew she’d be a better mother than Gigi, who lingered, watching her intently. Maya waved the cash at her and Gigi’s face lit up. She rushed over, accepted what she could, and ran back into her room. “Yippee-ki-yay!” exclaimed the man. “We are gonna get so fucked up,” he promised Gigi. 

Maya ran. She grabbed Cara from her seat in the living room and made a beeline for the garage. She grabbed the keys to the little Volkswagen that her father gave her as a graduation gift and drove to the grocery store. She waited for Gigi to call. She lingered in the produce aisle. She let Cara try out as many toys as possible. Maya even used the stolen credit card to pay for the groceries, knowing the cash would be more valuable in the long term. She unloaded the groceries into the new apartment, three towns over from Gigi’s McMansion. Then, they explored the local park. All the while, Maya waited for the phone call. A call that never came. As the sun set on the first day, Maya let out a sigh of relief. 

Time moved on, slowly at first, then quickly. After about two weeks, the credit cards stopped working, but Maya had expected that since Gigi’s husband was likely back in town. She still had the cash and more importantly, the documents, proving that Cara belonged to her. Maya hadn’t lied when she told the ladies how hard those first few nights were. But they faded from memory as each one was replaced with laughter, joy, and love. Christmas came and left. Summer returned as it always did. Still, Maya feared the phone call or the knock on the door from the police. 

That knock didn’t come until Cara’s tenth birthday. And it wasn’t the police standing at Maya’s door. It was Gigi. Gigi with her hair full of life. Gigi with some color in her cheeks. Gigi with a sobriety chip and a single statement, “Give me my daughter back.”

The party was over quickly. Maya insisted that all the guests leave. She poured Gigi a cup of coffee and listened to her story. She and Blackbeard had gone on a two week bender. The cash Maya gave her, combined by her willingness to have sex, gave them plenty of fuel for their drug addiction. But Michael returned home all too soon. He cut off the money when he found his daughter no longer resided at the home. Cara had been the mistake he hadn’t intended to make a second time. He divorced Gigi, not like she was sober enough to show up at court to protest. They were homeless for about a year before Blackbeard abandoned his uptown girl-traded her in for a newer model who was barely seventeen. 

She floated around the streets of a town she didn’t choose before ODing. Michael had rescued her from country roads where everyday felt like a repetition of the one before. When she awoke, she found herself in the care of a kind nurse who took a shot on her. And her happy ending was written. Now, all she needed was her daughter back. 

Maya stood, smiling and pulling Gigi close. She followed the woman’s eyes up the stairs to where Maya’s daughter lay napping after her big day. With her hands on her hips, Maya promised that she would speak with Cara to explain the situation and be in touch soon. She opened her door, letting her walk in front of her. Charmingly, without missing a beat she answered Gigi’s original demand, “Make me.” And slammed the door. “Come on, Cara. We’re going on an adventure!” she called.