My mom finally forced me off of the couch at five o’clock and told me to go and take a shower before Brian arrived to pick us up. She also told me that we’d be dining at Luigi’s. Did we really need to go there, I wondered? Why not just rub salt in my wounds while you’re at it, I wanted to scream.
Just when I was about to kindly protest, I realized that Luigi’s was the only Italian restaurant on the island and it was my favorite kind of food. But, despite the fact that they had the best calamari around, I wasn’t too sure I’d be eating much of anything at all that night.
I was surprised my mom didn’t offer to take us out to dinner at a restaurant on the mainland since it seemed to be Brian’s favorite thing to do lately; hop on the ferry and spend the day in and around Portland, even in the freezing temperatures, while I sat home with my burden of a brother.
I finished getting ready and went downstairs to wait for our ride. I wished my mother would have driven the three of us and that we could have met Brian there instead.
I decided to go outside to get the mail, hoping to get a birthday card from my grandmother. She always made sure to send me a card right on time, so that it would arrive at my house on the exact day of the anniversary of my birth. If it fell on a Sunday, she would send the card on Saturday and I’d have to promise not to open it until the next day.
That’s what my grandmother would always say to me about birthdays. “You only had one birthday, Willow. The rest are the anniversaries of that very special day on which you were born.”
I loved my grandma and wished we could have lived closer to her and my grandpa, even though his health wasn’t too good lately. She was always loving and attentive with James and me and I missed her more recently, now that my mother’s affection seemed to be aimed elsewhere.
I shivered against the cold and saw that the mailbox was empty. Either the mailman hadn’t come yet or my mom had already gotten it. I’d have to ask her later.
As I opened the front door to go back inside, the glare of a pair of headlights shone and settled on our blacktop. Rather quickly, the lights turned off along with the car’s engine.
I closed the door behind me, grabbed my heaviest winter coat and yelled upstairs to my mom, “Mr. Brian Roberts is here!”
• • •
My mother took forever to get ready, forcing me to make painful small talk with her boyfriend. James, as usual, was entranced in his own video world.
“Happy Birthday, Willow!” Brian bellowed as soon as he ducked and entered the family room.
“Thanks,” I said and wished I could have been struck with some sort of stomach virus at that very moment. Then I would have had no choice but to run upstairs, throw up, climb into bed and proclaim that I needed to stay in for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky.
Ironically, my stomach rumbled loudly and Brian pointed to it and grinned.
“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” he said proudly, as if he were a brilliant gastroenterologist who had just made a life-saving diagnosis.
I forced a smile, turned away and rolled my eyes, knowing that Dr. Roberts was actually right. The growling and churning were due to the fact that I hadn’t eaten a thing all day, except for the lone Devil Dog I wolfed down right before my shower.
Finally my mother slowly, and with great care, descended the narrow old stairs, head held high, as if she were royalty.
I had never seen a grown man gush so much. “Laura, my dearest, you look absolutely divine.”
My mother blushed. “Why, thank you, Brian. You look very handsome yourself.”
At that very moment, I wanted to throw up, with or without the stomach bug.
• • •
We finally climbed into Brian’s car and headed over to the restaurant. I assumed it was really crowded inside because we couldn’t find a parking spot anywhere close to the front entrance.
“Can’t you drop us off at the door?” James whined.
My mother snapped her head, as well as her words, at my brother. “No! Not tonight!”
Brian parked at the out-of-business gas station next door and we all headed toward Luigi’s. I walked a few yards ahead of them. I wanted to get in and out of there as soon as possible and, in between, try to force some kind of food down my throat.
Brian and his humungous hand stopped me before I could open the front door.
“Here, birthday girl. Let me get that for you.”
I walked in and Brian gave our name to the young hostess. She smiled warmly up at him. I assumed she knew him, along with everybody else on the island. Apparently, Mr. Brian Roberts was the most sought after fifth grade teach over at Orchard Elementary School and, for the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why.
My mother and brother quickly scrambled inside behind us before being ushered toward a small, private room in the back of the restaurant. The lighting inside the main dining room was very dim, so we had to maneuver carefully past the overflowing tables. I couldn’t figure out how we jumped ahead of all the other people who were anxiously waiting to be seated. I was just so thankful not to be one of them.
The four of us stood outside the little room in back and waited while our hostess knocked on its closed door. Why would she be knocking, I wondered? Did it mean that other diners were in there and we’d have to be jammed together with them?
The hostess finally opened the door and stepped aside so we could enter. My mother gently pushed me forward so that I stood beyond the threshold alone. The room was pitch black. All of a sudden, bright lights burst on and I was temporarily blinded as a choir of unexpected voices shouted out, “Surprise!”
I stood there, stunned, and was overcome with joy as my teary eyes feasted upon a room full of friends and streamers, sweet sixteen signs and dozens of pink balloons, all in honor of me and the sixteenth anniversary of the very special day on which I was born.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN