Sophie- Past

I smooth down the last piece of tape on the gift, turn over the box in my hands, checking for any missed parts that still need to be taped down. The starfish wrapping paper that covers her present is pretty and attractive, highlighting starfish and shells in a pattern of shapes and colors. Knowing Katie, she’d try to open the gift without tearing any piece of the paper. She was like that, careful, despite the fact that it will be recycled. Just to bug her, I’ve thoroughly taped down every corner, coating any piece she could possibly carefully pull up. I can’t wait to see how long it will take her to become fed up and just rip it open. I kneel down and slide the gift under my bed. The party and her birthday may be tomorrow, but I’ve gotten into a little tradition of hiding her gift and making her look for it. I’ll hide it properly tomorrow morning before she wakes up.

Closing my door behind me, I wander down the hall for a last minute check on everything. The cake is stored in the back of the fridge, hidden behind two jars of pickled beets, something I know she’ll stay away from. I’m quite proud of the cake, actually. It’s a caramel cake layered in coconut flavored icing, and topped with salted pecans and candied pineapple pieces. I think it’s going to be pretty good.

Party hats, napkins, plates, two bottles of sparkling lemonade and a bottle of root beer, little ‘thank you’ bags, balloons, and the scavenger hunt maps are all ready and accounted for. A scavenger hunt was a cool idea. Some may think it a little childish, considering that she’s twelve now, but we’ve made it pretty complex for them and it’s around the entire park, so it should be fun. I bought all the supplies to make a big breakfast in the morning and then she and I are going to pick a movie and sit and share a tub of ice cream before the party starts at two tomorrow.

I glance at the clock. Nine. Time to say goodnight to her and make sure she goes to bed so that she’s not tired in the morning. I tap softly on her door before pushing it open. “Katie?” I peer around the room, but don’t see her. Then I hear some shuffling and a sniff, suppressed sob. I bend around the wardrobe, find her tucked between it and the bed. Her eyes are puffy and her nose is red. “Katie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“She’s not coming.” Katie doesn’t need to specify, I know who she’s talking about. “Is she?”

I sigh and shake my head. “No. She’s not.”

Katie nods, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “She never comes,” she mutters. I sit down on the floor, my back against the bed.

“Come here,” I request, pull her into my lap and hug her when she moves within reach. “You know that Roxanne is a complicated person…” I trail off, not really sure how to word it.

“She isn't coming back is she? Ever. You said she had to go away for a while, but a while is forever isn't it?” Katie demands. I hesitate, reluctant to tell her. My silence gives her the answer. Her shoulders slump and she sniffs, wiping at her nose. “She doesn’t love me. Doesn’t want me.”

“Honey, I-”

“Why do you?” Katie demands, spinning to look me in the eye. “She’s my mother, but she doesn’t love me or take care of me or want me around. Why do you bother? I’m not your kid, I’ve never been. So why do you hug me, make me breakfast, buy my things, and throw me parties? Why do you put up with me when my own mother won't?”

I squeeze her against me tightly, feel my own chest tighten. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. First of all, I do not ‘put up with you’, I love you and I love having you around. It’s true that we are not related in blood or anything like that and that I did not give birth to you, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ll tell you why I hug you and feed you and throw you parties. Because I love you and I cannot stress that enough. I love you Katie, that’s why.”

“But, why? I don’t understand. Why do you love me? You don’t have to.”

“Exactly,” I say. “I don’t have to love you. I choose to. And that in itself is better than anything, do you know why?”

Katie shakes her head, glances up at me expectantly.

I stroke her hair. “I don’t have any siblings, but if I did, I would have to love them, even if I didn’t particularly like them, because they’d be my family, my flesh and blood. It would be my responsibility to love and support them. But I don’t have to love or support you, that isn’t a responsibility, it’s a choice. You are my family, but not because you have to be, but because I choose to have you as my daughter, just as I hope that you choose to be here too. You and I are family, Katie, that’s never going to change. You are the family I made for myself. The family I choose to love. You understand?”

She nods, even though her tears still run down her cheeks in steady tracts. She warps her arms around my and sobs into my shoulder. “I love you too Sophie. I'm sorry.”

I rub her back and hush her. “Don’t be sorry for being sad or for missing her; don’t you ever be sorry for something like that.”

I groan softly and lift my head from the edge of the bed, a thin trail of saliva running down my chin. I wipe it away as I sit up and glance around, still groggy. I’m still sitting on the floor against the bed. Katie is passed out in my lap. Her legs stretched out over the floor, her cheek pressed against my knee. One of her hands is draped over my wrist and it tightens in her sleep as I move. I glance over at her bedside clock. Five thirty in the morning. One hour before I planned to get up and start making her breakfast. I gently shake her shoulder. “Katie,” I whisper her name softly as I stand and pull her to her feet.

“Uh?” she groans incoherently.

“Come on, sweetie, time to get into your bed,” I say. I pull her covers back and sit her down on the bed. “Lie down, now.” She does, her face hitting the pillow and her eyes closing again. I pull the blanket back up to cover her and she snuggles down into them.

“I love you, mommy,” the words ghost out in her still mostly asleep state of mind and I feel my heart clench even as joy blooms inside of me. I bend down and kiss her forehead.

“I love you too,” I say. I click her light off and ease her door closed as I leave and begin my preparations.

The room is filled with laughter as everyone settles in on the floor for presents. Katie sits in the middle, a party hat sitting crookedly on her head. Her two best friends sit next to her, Hannah on the left and Abby on the right. Lewis’s niece and nephew, Lily and Connor, sit side by side, cross-legged on the floor, and then there’s Danny, a seven-year-old boy that Katie has been babysitting for two years now. His mother works down in the entrance booth at the front gate and Katie often plays with Danny in the summers while his mother works. She wanted him to come today.

The scavenger hunt was a big hit, there were two teams of three and the first one’s finished got a prize. Katie, Abby, and Danny had beaten the other team by about thirty seconds. I glance at Abby now. She’s a sweet girl, I couldn’t ask for better best friends for Katie than her and Hannah, but I know that her inability to hear is tough for her and she often struggles to enjoy herself as fully as the other girls do. There’s a bright smile on her face today though and she seems very happy as she pushes her present towards Katie.

Katie takes her time opening it, carefully tugging each corner free to open the present. Katie lifts a picture frame from the wrappings. The sandy brown wood of the frame is decorated with small seashells and dolphin beads. The picture inside is of Katie, Hannah, and Abby laughing together, though I’m not certain of where the picture was taken. Katie smiles as her stares at the picture, and then hugs it to her chest. “Thank you, Abby,” she says, turning to her friend and repeating the phrase in sign language. “It’s beautiful.”

Abby smiles and nods her head.

“Do ours next,” Lily exclaims, pushing a long box over to Katie.

Again, Katie takes her time opening the gift. She removes the wrapping paper to discover the box for a camera stand. “Cool, thanks guys,” she states, smiling up at them. “I’ve been wanting one of these.”

“Looks like the right size too,” I comment. “To fit your camera. Move it off to the side so that it doesn’t get broken.”

She lifts the box and places it against the wall, and then sets the picture frame down on top of it. Danny gives her a necklace of shells, beads, and colored macaroni, which she drapes over her neck and wears happily. Hannah gives her a friendship charm bracelet and a conch shell.

“For your collection,” she states, pointing to the shell. I let them laugh and talk about the gifts for a few moments before I stand up and join them on the floor. I hand Katie a folded piece of paper. The clue to the final part of her scavenger hunt. She smiles at me and flips it open, her eyes scanning the page. Then she stands up and hurries away.

“Bring it back before you open it,” I call. “And whatever you do, don’t shake it.”

About two minutes later, she returns cradling the box in her arms. She kneels down and begins to struggle with the tape. “You are evil,” she states, fixing me with a false glare. I chuckle.

“Just rip it. Hurry up already, your friends are waiting.”

She finally does simply tear the wrapping off the little brown box. It’s an old shipment box for a watch that I’ve used to hold her gift. She pulls up the flap of the box and pulls out the object wrapped in tissue paper. Gently removing the white paper, she holds up the gift. The glass dolphin shines in the light, the purple stained glass causing purple dots to dance on the wall. The dolphin is in a leaping position and the area where the underbelly should be is open and hollow. “Wow,” Katie gasps. “It’s so pretty.”

“Do you know what it is?” I ask her.

She shakes her head and I laugh a little.

“It’s for your camera. The open part is so it will attach to your flash. See the little purple square piece under the chin? That pulls down over the flash if you want and it will stain the images with a purple hue. I was told that the purple works best for night skies and very late sunsets. It’s an interchangeable piece and the other available colors are in the box. You’ll have to test them to see what types of pictures work best with each color and you don’t have to stain pictures if the dolphin is on your camera, the piece pulls up and down easily. But be careful with it, it is glass and it will break,” I warn. Katie nods eagerly.

“Thank you Sophie, this is so cool.”

She stands up and runs over to hug me. I hug her back and then instruct her to put it away somewhere safe for now. As she runs off, I get the rest of the crew together at the table for cake.

“So how come you wanted me to come out here?” Katie asks as she sits down next to me on the stairs of the staff apartment’s entrance. Night has fallen and she’s dressed her pajamas.

“I have a surprise for you, come on.” I lead her away from the staff center and along one of the pathways.

“I don’t understand,” Katie says as she follows me along the path. “You already gave me my birthday gift.”

“This is just a little something extra,” I reply. I lead her out to the grassy picnic area of the park. A small children’s park and a few picnic tables are in the area, along with some vendors, all closed now. In the middle, I’ve laid out an old comforter and a box of chocolate pecan cookies, her favorite. Set up in the grass beside the blanket is a telescope. I know that Katie used to love stargazing with her father on clear weekend nights and after last night, I figured it might be a nice way to end her birthday. I sit down on the corner of the blanket and cross my legs, patting the spot beside me. “Well? Are you coming or are you just going to stand there?” I tease. A huge smile spreads across her face and seconds later I find myself in a death grip of a hug.

“Thank you, Sophie,” she murmurs.

“You're welcome. Now come on, the stars are supposed to be exceptionally bright tonight, take a look.”

Katie shifts over to peer into the telescope. “Wow.”