It’s New Year’s Eve. That meant another anniversary for Sophia and me. I should be sipping champagne, telling the kids our wedding story, maybe sneaking upstairs with her before midnight. Instead, I was dodging her, keeping myself busy, and wondering how in the world we ended up here. We did everything right. Had all the conversations. Took our time. And yet something still slipped through our defenses.
Logan was up, so I scooped him into my arms and parked us downstairs. He babbled while I whispered to him about the date and how it was special not only for me and his mom but also for the world. My words were gibberish to him, but at least I could cross one item off my anniversary wishlist. He grew restless, kicking and cooing, so I set him down. I couldn’t tell if he was responding to my story or telling me his own, but he was really animated that morning, as if he were trying to teach me a language I’d never learn.
Desiree sauntered in mid-monologue, catching the tail end of his squeals.
“Is he talking??” she asked, eyebrows high.
“Trying to. He said his first word yesterday.”
Her eyes lit up for half a second before she collapsed onto the couch in a full-bodied teenage sigh. She didn’t switch moods often, so I was genuinely concerned.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“This girl in my class! She posted pics of her dress, and it’s the same as mine! Everything is ruined!”
I had to fight a laugh; it threatened to rip out of me, but to her this was life or death.
“Same color and everything?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face.
“Hers is black! She looks like she’s going to a funeral!”
That one almost did me in. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep a straight face.
“You’ll look way better in yours,” I said. “Style is about attitude, not fabric. That girl can’t touch you. You’re the most beautiful girl in school. Nobody’s gonna remember her dress.”
She mulled it over, lips pursed, then her whole face shifted into that sly, self-assured smirk she only pulls out when she knows she’s about to land a punchline.
“You’re right. She’s giving NPC vibes, anyway.”
Finally, I let out the laugh threatening to undo me. That came out of her mouth so sharp and smooth, I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. Sometimes she threw those one-liners like she’d been saving them up just to floor me. And every time, I fell for it. That’s my girl.
“Savage,” I said, shaking my head.
She grinned.
“Can we do a toast since I won’t be here tonight?”
I loved how she skillfully informed me I shouldn’t bother setting a curfew, not that I thought she needed one. I always said she was a smart one. My mind drifted back to her as a little girl, belting out half-remembered words to Froodage Lang Syne while drinking fruit punch from a plastic flute. That night was messy and adorable, pure Desi.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” I said.
I poured two glasses of fruit juice and handed one over. She raised her glass, all confidence and sparkle from sharing the moment with her old favorite, heh. But me? This would be the only toast I’d make that night. No bubbles. No renewed promises with my favorite. Just colored sugar water with my daughter. Sophia walked in just as our glasses clinked. One eyebrow arched high cut through the moment like a blade.
“What in the world is going on here?” she asked.
“It’s just fruit juice, Mommy.”
“It’s not even 10 a.m.,” I said with all the sass of five moody teenage girls.
Sophia’s shoulders dropped, all the air leaving her at once.
“Right.” She turned to me then and gave a smile that was reminiscent of times past. “Happy anniversary, babe.”
“You too.”
She flinched as though I’d smacked her and fought to keep her smile. Her eyes darted everywhere, searching for an anchor, and finally landed on Logan. She scooped him up, pressed her cheek to his, then turned to Desi.
“Let’s go figure out what to do with your hair,” she said too brightly.
I stayed rooted in place, my glass sweating in my hand. When they disappeared upstairs, I slipped out back to the garden, as if the chilly soil could absorb the guilt gnawing at me for hurting her.
After gardening, I went for a run, glad for winter to be almost over. I showered and put on decent clothes since the boy would arrive soon. Later, Desi came downstairs dressed for prom. My heart stopped. She practically floated, twirling, so the fabric shimmered in the light, eyes gleaming with excitement. My hands came together in applause before I even thought about it.
“Stunning! Just stunning.”
She blushed, and I pulled her close, holding her tighter than I probably should’ve.
“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much.”
Her laughter bubbled out as she wriggled free and went to the dogs. I stood there in awe at how my baby girl had somehow turned into this radiant young woman overnight.
Sophia hurried down the stairs then.
“Ohhhhhhh! Look at you, my little sweet potato,” she cooed. “This dress is even more gorgeous with you in it!”
Desi laughed, pulling her mother toward the door. “Come on, we need pictures before Josh gets here!”
And just like that, they vanished outside, leaving me standing in the quiet hum of the house.
To be continued…
