Naomi’s fourteenth birthday was the next day. Though she expected it to be different than an ordinary day, she had no way of knowing just how extraordinary it would be.
After dinner, as Naomi and her mom sat at the kitchen table before a birthday paste topped with candles that begged for a wish, her mom lifted a square box tied with a purple braided bow from beneath the table.
She handed the box to Naomi. “Happy birthday.”
Naomi pulled the purple braid from the box and removed the top. Inside was a T-shirt that was purple, Naomi’s favorite color.
“It’s so soft,” said Naomi, feeling the fabric between her thumb and forefinger.
“It’s Joseph’s. I mean, it’s your father’s.” Her mom smiled but there were tears in her eyes. “He was a horse speaker. One of the people that took care of horses. Like a doctor.” Her mom got that distant look, and for a second, Naomi thought she would reveal more. Just a little bit more . . . But instead her mom said, “Blow out the candles so you can make a wish.”
“But mom,” Naomi said, “you told me you would tell me about dad.”
Her mom looked into Naomi’s eyes as if she were searching out Naomi’s wish.
“Okay,” her mom said. “As I told you, your dad was a horse speaker. When you were just a baby all of the horses finally disappeared and your father tried to figure out what happened to them. There were people in town that thought the paste factory had taken them, but most people thought they were taken by other townspeople or, in a lot of cases, by people in Oklahoma.”
“Because of the horse wars?” Naomi asked.
“Yes,” her mom said. “But don’t tell anyone any of this.”
“Why?” Naomi asked.
“You remember Mr. Heller,” said her mom.
Naomi thought of one of her teachers, Mr. Heller. “Yeah,” she said. She had a thousand questions to ask but she only asked, “Why are you telling me this now?”
Her mom said, “Because you are getting to the point where you can make your own decisions and I realize that not telling you about your father would mean you may not make the right decisions. That you might hate me for not telling you. But, look, you have to blow out the candles!”
Naomi blew out the candles.
“Did you make a wish?” her mom asked.
“Yes,” said Naomi.
“Don’t tell me!” her mom said. “Or it won’t come true.”