Just a Flutter

Hannah knew that everyone thought she was crazy. They didn’t tell her to her face, of course, but she could tell. It was in their eyes, their tone, the little frown at the corners of their mouths they kept trying to hide – she could see it plain as day. That was okay, though. It didn’t matter what they thought. All that mattered was today was going to be perfect.

And then everything would be okay.

“So far, so good,” Hannah said to herself as she tied the last balloon.

She took a step back and surveyed her work with a satisfied smile. The exceptionally spacious dining parlor had transformed from dainty posh elegance to a merry pink celebration in just a matter of hours. She had packed up her delicate china and decor, and had her brother-in-law move them, the china cabinets, dining table, and chairs out into the garage yesterday. She brought in rented plastic tables and chairs that were quickly covered in pink and white paper covers. Next, she’d hung pink and cream accented streamers all over the ceiling from corner to corner. On the walls were the same theme colored string lights with the cutest plastic flowers and butterflies she’d happened to find at a garage sale. The whole room was littered in glittering confetti that sparkled in the brightness of the string lights, and every single chair had a neon pink balloon. In the center of each table was a white vase bursting with pink silk roses.

It was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Almost.

The doorbell rang, startling her slightly. Hannah stifled the thought and plastered her smile back on. She knew before she looked through the peephole it would be the cake. It was exactly 1:00 p.m. and Dahlia Cakes was never late with their deliveries, no matter what it was or who it was for. Dahlia Burnham, her friend since childhood, would have a delivery person’s head for it.

She swung the large, ornate door open to see a short, young looking man with sandy brown hair and a slightly rounded figure with a name tag that read “Tony.” He was holding a telltale white pastry box that was branded with only a simple, but recognizable D.

“Hello!” she beamed. “You’re right on time!”

 “That’s the goal, miss!” he answered in a surprisingly deep voice for the youth in his blue eyes. “Hannah Merlot, I take it?”

She nodded her confirmation and went to take the box, but he held it back.

“It’s really heavy, miss. I don’t mind bringin’ it in for ya. Boss lady was very serious about not wanting anythin’ to happen to this one.” A look of consideration passed over his rounded features. “Well, more serious, I should say. She’s always serious,” he added with a chortle.

Hannah had started biting the inside of her lip the moment he suggested bringing it in for her, but gave him a small, knowing smile at the joke. She was hesitant to agree. Tony seemed nice enough, but… she knew what would happen if he came in. Right now, she was still just a stranger, a customer. Once he stepped inside, he would recognize her. Then, would come the look. She was so sick of that look.

Still… the cake… What if she dropped it? Everything was supposed to be perfect today. It wasn’t worth the risk. The party was more important. This party was going to fix everything.

Tony was looking at her questioningly, waiting for an answer. She gave him a courteous smile and moved aside to hold the door open for him. “Come on in,” she said, gesturing to the inside of her foyer.

He nodded and came in. She shut the door behind him and indicated for him to follow her. She avoided looking at him while they walked through her sprawling home. She knew he’d be looking the pictures hung on every wall, knew he would be putting the pieces together. She didn’t want to see his face yet.

In reality, they got to the dining parlor quickly, but to Hannah, it felt like it took hours. She gestured from the entryway to the table at the back of the room and kept her gaze firmly fixed on it as he moved past her to place the cake. She’d decorated the table with pink paper covering along with silk rose petals and the confetti, but had left a single spot clear for where the cake would sit in the center. Despite the awkward tension, Hannah felt a joyful thrill at seeing how wonderful the extravagant 3-tiered princess themed confection looked amidst all the other decorations.

It distracted her enough that she accidentally met Tony’s eyes. Ah, there it is, she sighed internally. The look. It was unmistakable. He’d definitely seen the news stories and realized who she was, and likely figured out who this party was for.

She clenched her hands behind her back and forced a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll walk you out.”

They made the same long, silent walk back and as they approached the door, Hannah could tell Tony was working himself up to say something to her. The tension had gotten worse and he kept making different clearing noises in his throat. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it.

“Miss –” he began.

But she cut him off, turning toward him with a stilted cheerfulness. “Well, this is it!” She opened the door and held it for him. “I appreciate your service! I’ll make sure Dahlia knows how helpful you were when I see her next!”

He opened his mouth like he might say something, but seemed to reconsider. He nodded and thanked her while wishing her a good day, then went on his way. She moved fast to close and lock the door again. When the door’s lock clicked back in place, it was like the barrier between her and the outside world had come back up. She let out a deep exhale of relief. Living was so much easier now as long as she stayed behind these locked doors.

When I see Dahlia next, hm. That would be today, or it was supposed to be anyway. She knew Dahlia had gotten the invitation, just like everyone else. Though plenty of gifts had been mailed or dropped off in advance, no one had rsvp’d – in person or otherwise. She had expected that, of course. No one knew how to respond. She didn’t blame them. If the roles were reversed, would she know how to respond? She doubted it.

God, how I wish the roles were reversed.

She shook her head and banished the notion. There was no more time to stand here lost in her mind! She had a lot more to do. Not to mention, she still needed to call the facility and confirm the transportation team’s arrival time. If they were late, everything would be in ruins.

With renewed determination, she set off to accomplish her tasks. The phone call was her first priority and she received the great news that they were ahead of schedule and would be here right on time. Next were the gifts, which were soon organized in a creatively haphazard pile and the party favors laid out in neat symmetric rows on their own respective tables across the room from each other. Setting up the food took the most time, but she didn’t rush all the same. She laid out serving platters of everything that had been prepared on the rest of the tables meant for guests. She made sure each table was set exactly the same and each one had an equal amount of everything. By the time the last dish was placed, it was a little past 3:00 p.m. and nearly time for everyone to start arriving.

The guest of honor needed to come down the hall first, however, and the door bell signaled it was time. She rushed to greet the nurses and let them in, making sure they knew there was plenty of food and party favors for them as well. After all, they’d be here for the whole party too. The nurses were the only ones who never gave her the look and they returned her words with sincere gratitude and smiles.

She forced herself to stay down the hall out of the way while they did their job. She couldn’t help and she didn’t want to delay them. She distracted herself mulling over her mental checklist, which seemed essentially complete. If there had been a way, Hannah would have liked to have the birthday girl dressed in a pink party dress just as decadent as her cake. She hated the drab hospital gown she was constantly confined in. It only made her look paler and thinner. Maybe a change of clothes would put the color back in her cheeks that Hannah so desperately ached to see.

But that was the reason for the party, wasn’t it? This party was going to do what none of the doctors or specialists could do. She had dreamed it, for days, weeks on end. This party was going to fix everything.

Hannah was brought out of her reverie by the nurses kindly telling her that she was set up. At the same time, the doorbell rang again. It was time to get the party started. She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she made her way to the door. She was ready. She had prepared herself for this. It was time.

She kept herself steady as she greeted each guest. It was less than she had hoped for, but far more than she had suspected. She only slipped in composure once, at the end, when she was greeting Dahlia whose eyes immediately gave away her feelings. She was pained for Hannah. They all were, but seeing it in her closest friend’s eyes pierced the mental shield she had worked so hard to create.

It was Ariana they should be pained for, though. Ariana was the one suffering. Hannah seemed to be the only one who cared anymore.

She sucked in a breath and plastered on a smile so she could go back to the party. She gave a small speech thanking them for attending, refusing to look any of them in the eye anymore. Her gaze was magnetized toward Ariana, waiting for her dream to come true. She was slightly propped up in her mobile bed at the head of the room so that she could face everything, and Hannah could keep her eyes on her no matter where she stood. If she looked in the eyes of her guests, she would relive it all over again.

In a town as close-knit as this one, any accident makes waves through the community. But when Hannah and Ariana had been hit by a drunken out-of-towner on their way to the food bank they had volunteered to help in, it was all anyone talked about for months. From the time that Ariana was very little, she was always volunteering to help in every fundraiser, festival, or charity event that she could from running stalls to ringing a bell collecting money or reading to children during the summer. She was often called “the little philanthropist” by everyone who knew her and that’s the nickname all the news stations continued to use every time they ran the story. The phrase made Hannah sick now. She kept all the t.v.s unplugged since the last “special” they ran a couple weeks prior.

“Little Philanthropist Struck on Her Way to Food Bank.”

“Our own teenage humanitarian run down by a drunk driver while heading to –”

“Sources close to the family say the little philanthropist remains in her coma – brain functioning but asleep –”

“Three months since tragedy struck and while the teenage philanthropist is being moved home, her doctors don’t expect her to open her eyes ever again.”

“Six months have passed, and tonight we’ll relive the night our little philanthropist went to sleep and hope for the day she wakes up.”

Hope, Hannah grimaced, yeah, right. At first, everyone around her had been just as hopeful as she was. With the more time that passed, however, the less hope she saw in their faces. Before long, they all had the same look on their face: that look that screamed concern and shame.

Shame for Hannah, because she refused to believe her daughter was gone. Not while her heart was still beating and her lungs breathed on their own and even her brain showed the tiniest sparks of Ariana still being at home. Her daughter was not dead. Her daughter wasn’t gone. She was just lost and this neon pink party was going to be the light that brought her home.

Speaking of light, it was time. She ignored the awkward coughs and the bodies shifting uncomfortably as she lit the candles.

“Alright, everyone!” she called. “On the count of three. 1 – 2 –”

The lighter in her hand clattered to the floor. Everything was suddenly very still and very quiet. It was like everyone in the room forgot to breathe. Hannah knew she had.

Because she had seen it, just like her dream.

Ariana’s eyes were fluttering open.