Alessia showed up looking beautiful as always. She looked nothing like my mother, but every now and then she’d smile or laugh or tilt her head a certain way and completely throw me off. Less had so much of Mama’s warmth—and sass—in her that sometimes it felt like a tiny piece of her was still hanging around with us.
By then, all of Desi’s friends I’d met—minus Josh—had arrived, so I honestly had no idea who we were still waiting for. Maybe Tami, though she was probably busy wrestling cows or whatever ranch folk do at night. Or maybe she was simply too grown to spend the evening hanging around a bunch of teenagers. Desi caught my eye and gave me a little nod, so I led everyone upstairs.
Once everybody settled in, I realized we should probably handle the cake immediately before the night dissolved into chaos. Desi had plans later, people were already getting loud, and I knew if we waited too long, gathering everyone together again would turn into a full community event. Thankfully, she agreed.
I lit the candles, and that was when the excitement finally hit me properly.
My baby girl was about to age up.
I’d spent so much time emotionally spiraling about this moment that I almost forgot it was supposed to be joyful too. Desi, meanwhile, looked completely unbothered, as one could expect.
She walked up to that cake with all the confidence in the world, gave her wish approximately two seconds of thought, and blew those candles out like they personally offended her. The whole room erupted immediately. Confetti burst through the air. Everybody started cheering.
Then the age-up magic swept over her in a cloud of sparkling light so bright it almost blended into her smile. When everything settled, Desiree Amari Murillo struck a pose like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life. And honestly? She wore young adulthood very well.
