Happy Birthday

"So it talks?" The weight of the massive bird cage pulls my arm downward. "Woah easy." The delivery man takes a step higher up on my stoop to help me support the bottom. "Woah easy! Woah easy!" The bird chatters and disgruntledly rearranges its feathers. "That's unsettling," I say. The man smirks, "This wasn't on your Christmas list? Birds are in high demand this time of year. Just listen to the '12 Days of Christmas' song." I laugh dryly, "Just expected Mom to leave behind a little more than her pet in the will." He looks at me, alarmed. "It's okay," I backtrack, "We weren't that close." The man looks the winged creature up and down. "No one wants to be alone for the holidays. Maybe this is her way of still trying to keep you company." Maybe I think. "Pets are some peoples' prized possessions...and," he continues, "there is more." He turns to retrieve the unknown item from his truck while I struggle to lift the animal habitat onto my dining room table. "This is part two," he calls from the doorway. I turn to see him holding a metal, army green box. It's held shut by a combination lock. "A safe?" I ask. "Something like that," he shrugs, "You don't recognize it?" I shake my head and take it into my hands. I immediately place it on the table and start fumbling with the numbers. He clears his throat after several seconds of me being completely entranced by the lock. "I'll leave you to it then." "Be careful on the ice!" I call out. "Merry Christmas!" He yells back. "Happy birthday!" The bird squawks. "It's Christmas, not a birthday." I correct as I close and lock the front door. Well, Jesus' birthday I guess. "Happy Birthday Shelby!" It jabbers. "Wh-what did you just say?" It ignores me and begins grooming itself. "You know my name?" I start to wonder what else it knows. I hold the box up into its direct line of sight. "Do you know what this is? Do you know the code? The combination?" It continues poking at its feathers with its beak. I sit at the table and hold my face in my hands. "I've lost it." I mutter, "I'm talking to a stupid bird." It squawks again, "Pretty bird. Pretty bird. Darling gets a nana." I perk up, "Darling? Your name is Darling?" It marches in place, excitedly, "Pretty girl Darling. Darling gets a nana." I don't understand her. "What is nana?" She repeats it again, "a nana." I clap my hands, "a nana. You want a banana!" I snatch one from the fruit basket and peel it frantically. I snap a piece off and hold it out for her. She nips it from my fingers through the cage. "Okay Darling, you got a nana, now tell me what you know." She's silent. I ask her slower, "You know that I'm Shelby. Do you know my Mom? Do you know Gwen?" Her wings flap, "Gwen go bye-bye soon. Go live with Shelby." I nod, "Yes. Good Darling. I'm Shelby." I hold out another piece of banana for her. "What do you know about Gwen?" I ready another piece for her in my hand. "Gwen loves Shelby." I roll my eyes, "Well if Gwen felt that way, she could have visited or called any time." Darling continues, "Doesn't look good Gwen." My heart drops. "What's that supposed to mean?" I bribe her again with another bite of fruit. "Call home Gwen. Gwen miss Shelby." My eyes start to well with tears. "What doesn't look good Darling?" I try to hold them back. "Darling go see Shelby. Gwen too sick." I start to cry out of frustration. "If she got too sick to travel, she should have just told me! She never gave me a reason! She said that?" Darling squawks, "Gwen loves Shelby." I wince, "Why couldn't she just call? Why did she have to send a messenger?" Now I've really lost it. I'm not only talking to a bird, but yelling at it too. I rummage through my kitchen drawer in a rage and find pliers. "I would've visited if it got that bad. She didn't tell me how bad it was." I start attacking the metal box with the tool. I don't know if it's to get whatever is inside the box out, or to get the anger out of me. "I thought she didn't want to see me. What was I supposed to think? And now she dies and all she leaves me is a box I can't open and her stupid bird!" Darling starts shuffling loudly and squawking in her cage. "I would've figured out how to come see her. I would've let the past go. It's Christmas!" The pliers slip from my grip and I cut my left hand. I hold the nearest rag over the wound and apply pressure. "I don't know how to do this." I say out loud. It applies to more than just taking care of my hurt hand, or even the bird. I might have just poisoned it for all I know. I didn't even stop to think that I should look up whether or not to feed it a banana. More than that though, I don't know how to live without a Mom. She'd always tease me about having grandkids. I told her I'm just not the type. It feels like she's trying to prove me wrong from the afterlife by having me care for Darling now. We didn't agree on a lot. She didn't see me often. Whether that's her fault or mine, she didn't know me that well. So, how can she even say Gwen loves Shelby? How can she know that for sure if she doesn't know me? How am I supposed to believe that she really cares about me after her keeping all these secrets from me? "Happy birthday Shelby!" I sigh, "Darling, I told you it's not my-" I enter the month, date, and year of my birth date into the lock. It opens.