Five Empty Piñatas

Rachel stepped back to take a look at her work and nearly gagged. There was nothing in the world she could do to make the carnation-encrusted unicorn look any less pathetic. It didn’t exactly look like a unicorn, more like a depressed beagle with a single, crooked antenna. Rachel sighed and set it down next to the other four unicorns Mrs. Wagner had commissioned for her daughter’s ninth birthday party.

With a knot in her stomach, Rachel cautiously loaded the five ugly carnation creatures into the back of her van and drove to the site of the party. It was a thirty-minute drive and she couldn’t stop herself from straining her neck at every stoplight to ensure the unicorns didn’t get too bruised. It wasn’t her best work but the last thing she wanted was to disappoint a child on their birthday.

The Wagners lived three towns away from Rachel’s shop in a wealthy suburb where their mansion was the smallest on the street: a neo-colonial behemoth dressed up for the occasion in pink streamers and balloons. Mrs. Wagner stood outside attempting to affix a plastic tablecloth to a folding table with packing tape. Rachel parked in front of the house and opened the door of the van.

“You can park in the driveway!” Mrs. Wagner shouted anxiously. Rachel moved the van to the driveway and approached Mrs. Wagner.

“Need any help with the tablecloths?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Mrs. Wagner replied, wrestling with the tablecloth as it fluttered rebelliously in the springtime breeze. “You can start setting up the unicorns. I pictured one on the front steps, three surrounding the table, and one by the mailbox.”

Rachel nodded and began removing the unicorns from the back of the van. Mrs. Wagner stared at them with thin lips and an unreadable expression.

“Do they look okay?” Rachel inquired, dreading the answer.

Mrs. Wagner nodded. “Yes,” she said quietly. Rachel, despite her best effort, could not tell if Mrs. Wagner meant it or not. She set up the unicorns around the yard as directed. One of them had a bruise on its left hindquarter where it had fallen during a sharp turn, so she placed that one by the door with its behind hidden by a conveniently located pillar.

***

As a thank you for Mrs. Wagner’s large and expensive order, Rachel had made a few bonus centerpieces for the tables with some leftover carnations and lilies. When she was finished placing these, the guests had begun to arrive. Rachel realized too late that the first two families to pull their SUVs into the driveway had accidentally boxed her in.

Mrs. Wagner was preoccupied with greeting people and grabbing presents, so Rachel sat patiently at a table next to one of her unicorns. Avery Wagner, the birthday girl, had finally come out of hiding and was running around the yard with a Nerf gun. She pulled up beside Rachel and held the Nerf gun to Rachel’s head. Rachel put her hands up.

“Who are you and what are you doing at my birthday party?” Avery asked.

“I’m the florist.” Rachel had worn her “fun” work top with a pattern of little blue cats so she would seem approachable and lighthearted, but clearly this approach had backfired. Rachel genuinely did not know how to connect with children and was struggling to figure out how to play along.

“Are those piñatas?” Avery inquired, gesturing at the nearest unicorn.

“Yes.”

The unicorns were not piñatas. It occurred to Rachel a second later that in not wanting to disappoint the kid, she would be disappointing her even more when ultimately the unicorns were discovered to be candy-less. Oops.

“Can I shoot you in the head?” Avery asked.

“Yes.” A Nerf dart hit Rachel in the side of the head and Avery ran away to go play with the other kids.

***

Mrs. Wagner went to the backyard for a moment and Rachel followed her to the backyard gate to ask about moving the SUVs so she could leave in her van.

“Oh no,” Mrs. Wagner said. “I want you here the whole time so you can take the unicorns when the party's over.”

“Okay,” Rachel replied. “Can I have some pizza?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Wagner nodded. “Cake will be out in a few minutes.”

Rachel sat next to a grandmother and made polite conversation as she ate her pizza.

“Are you Wendell’s mother?” The grandmother asked.

“No,” Rachel replied. “I’m the florist.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You look just like Wendell. Beautiful piñatas,” the grandmother remarked.

“Thank you.”

***

It was time for cake.

Mrs. Wagner opened the gate to the backyard and held it open while Mr. Wagner, a handsome but nondescript corporate type, wheeled out The Cake. Rachel had a better view than anyone else, since she had snuck off to sit in her van for a few minutes to escape more grandmotherly conversation.

The Cake was shaped like a unicorn.

The two most notable things about The Cake were that it had been crafted by a professional baker and that it looked much, much worse than any of the five unicorns Rachel had made. Rachel felt an enormous weight off her shoulders as all nine of the candles blew out before The Cake even reached the front yard. The Cake’s left eye slid down a few inches when Mr. Wagner wheeled the cart over a bump in the lawn.

One or two children screamed when they saw The Cake, but Rachel, lacking an understanding of children, had no idea whether this was from joy or terror. She exited the van and quietly took her place next to the grandmother to ensure proper observance of the spectacle.

Mr. Wagner began to relight the candles with a barbeque lighter.

Three candles had been lit when the side of The Cake exploded onto Mr. Wagner’s polo shirt, covering him with a delicate spray of pink and white frosting.

Avery smirked and lowered her Nerf gun.

“Sorry, Dad.”

A vein popped out of Mr. Wagner’s neon red forehead and he stomped inside, completely silent. Everyone else remained silent too. Avery’s expression turned from one of smug victory to a somber and lonely pout. Rachel could see the regretful tears begin to surface in the kid’s eyes. She could not just sit there and watch this child ruin her own birthday party.

A voice rose up from within Rachel, one that she hadn’t used in years. It cracked as she let out the familiar opening notes,

“H-happy birthday to you,” she sang. Her voice wavered, but she knew she had to continue.

“Happy birthday to you,” the grandmother next to her joined in.

“Happy birthday dear Avery,” more people sang. The Cake’s left eye fell onto the lawn.

“Happy birthday to…” What remained of The Cake collapsed.

The Cake tasted much better than it looked. After everyone else had grabbed their cake, Mr. Wagner came outside, served himself a heaping plate of frosting, and marched into the backyard, fuming.

***

One of Avery’s birthday presents was a softball bat, which she immediately put to good use. She lined up all five unicorns as though they were to be executed by firing squad, but instead of shooting at them with her Nerf gun, Avery and her friends took turns hitting them with the softball bat. Carnation petals flew in all directions, leaving a pastel mess on the front lawn. Rachel pitied the person who would have to clean up the carnage. That person would probably be Rachel.

Gradually, the children grew more and more disappointed with the outcome of their actions. One unicorn was found to be empty, then the next three. The last unicorn, the one with the bruised buttock, stood headless and stubborn, mocking Avery. She ventured a look inside its neck, then shrieked.

“It’s EMPTY!” Avery ran up to Rachel with her Nerf gun and once again placed it against Rachel’s temple. “You said these were piñatas but they’re EMPTY!”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel replied sincerely. Earlier, she had asked the grandmother sitting next to her if there was a corner store nearby that sold candy, to which the grandmother replied that there was not, but she did have a bag of Werther’s Originals sitting in her trunk. Rachel decided against this approach, as there were five beagle-sized unicorns to fill and not enough caramels, not to mention that someone might notice her hauling around a bag of disappointing candy.

“Why are they empty?” Avery asked, more dejected now than angry.

“Well...why did you shoot The Cake with your Nerf gun?”

The kid thought for a moment. “It was ugly. And I hate unicorns. I wanted a gun party.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Rachel lamented. “When I was your age, I wanted an IPod for my birthday but my parents got me a USB MP3 player that only played songs downloaded from a Rolling Stones CD.”

Avery stared at her blankly. Rachel had never thought of herself as old until now.

“What I mean is that you can’t always get what you want. Did you tell your parents you wanted a gun party?”

“No,” Avery said sheepishly.

“Why not?”

“My mom wanted a unicorn party and I didn’t want to tell her because she might be mad at me. She likes unicorns and she was really excited.”

“Oh." Rachel had been expecting a different answer. "I’m sorry I ruined your birthday with the piñatas.”

“It’s okay. Can I shoot you in the head with my Nerf gun?”

“Sure.”

***

“If anyone other than a nine-year old girl answers the door, don’t give them the box,” Rachel informed Emilio, her part-time assistant, handing him a beagle-sized box wrapped in camouflage-patterned paper.

“Okay,” Emilio replied, taking the box and heading toward the door. “I wish we did stuff like this more often.”

“Me too,” Rachel smiled. She sighed at the leftover silk flowers strewn across her work counter and the reference pictures she had printed and hung up on her wall. Normally she worked only in real flowers but she wanted to give the kid something she could keep around for years. She even included a duster in the package because the inevitable gunk buildup around artificial flowers disgusted her.

Rachel may not have been able to give the kid the party she wanted, but a toy gun made of flowers? Rachel could do that.