Forty-Seven
forty-seven
NEVER GROW UP - TAYLOR SWIFT
CALLIE - OCTOBER 27, 2014
T he sound of packing tape tearing fills the living room, punctuated by the occasional thud of a box being set down. The little house feels emptier already, though we haven’t even moved half of our things.
I sit on the floor, sorting through a stack of books that somehow made their way to the corner of the room, and glance around at the bare walls. The nail holes where family photos used to hang stare back at me, and I feel a tug in my chest I can’t ignore.
“You okay?” Taylor’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s crouched nearby, carefully wrapping picture frames in sheets of newspaper.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling faintly. “It’s just… harder than I thought it would be.”
Brooke looks up from the stack of boxes she’s taping shut, her brow furrowed. “You’re allowed to feel that way. This is the house where so much happened for you guys, where you and Owen became a family.”
I nod, letting out a slow breath. “Exactly. This was the first home where everything finally started to feel right. It’s where Ruby took her first steps. Where Sara first called Owen ‘Dada.’” My voice catches, and I shake my head, laughing softly. “And now we’re leaving it behind.”
Taylor scoots closer, resting a hand on my arm. “You’re not leaving it behind. You’re taking all those memories with you. Darling Ridge is going to be amazing.”
“She’s right,” Brooke adds. “That farmhouse has so much space. Ruby and Sara are going to love the backyard and Barrett will have even more room to play when he visits. And we will get to see him so much more often.”
I smile, imagining the kids running around on the big lawn, Ruby’s laughter echoing through the trees. “I know it’s the right move,” I say. “It’s just… bittersweet.”
“We’ll help you make new memories there,” Taylor says brightly, grabbing another stack of newspapers. “And we’ll help you get through the sentimental part now.”
Brooke grins, grabbing a box of wine glasses. “Exactly. Now, where’s the wine? Packing goes faster with wine.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I push myself up to grab a bottle from the kitchen. As much as I’ll miss this house, having them here makes it easier. We’ll pack up the memories, too, and take them with us to Darling Ridge.
The backyard is alive with laughter, the sounds of kids playing blending with the cheerful chatter of family and friends. The princess and superhero theme is in full swing, costumes bringing bursts of color to the crisp fall afternoon.
Ruby sits in her high chair near the picnic table, looking every bit the little Snow White in her blue-and-yellow dress, complete with a red bow perched perfectly on her head. Across the yard, Sara twirls in her Sofia the First gown, the purple skirt flaring as she spins in circles. Barrett, dressed as Batman, dramatically flaps his cape as he announces himself the “protector of the castle.”
“Do you think Ruby has any idea this is all for her?” Brooke asks, snapping a picture of Ruby as she kicks her legs against the tray, babbling happily.
“Not a clue,” I reply, adjusting the bow on Ruby’s head for the hundredth time. “But she’s loving the attention.”
“She’s the star of the show,” Taylor says, appearing beside us with a tray of cupcakes. Each one is decorated with princess crowns or superhero emblems, the perfect blend of both themes. “Sara’s idea, right?”
“Of course,” I say, smiling as Sara continues her royal twirling routine. “She was adamant that everyone get a chance to wear their Halloween costumes again.”
“And by everyone, she meant herself,” Brooke adds with a smirk.
“Absolutely.”
Owen walks over from the grill, carrying a plate of freshly grilled burgers and hot dogs. He sets it down on the table, glancing at Ruby with a grin. “How’s Snow White holding up?”
“She’s thriving,” I reply, watching as Ruby claps her hands, her face lighting up as Owen leans down to kiss the top of her head.
When it’s finally time for cake, everyone gathers around Ruby’s high chair. A cupcake with soft pink frosting and a tiny gold crown decoration is placed in front of her. Ruby stares at it for a moment, her wide eyes darting between the cupcake and the crowd of people cheering her on.
“Go on, Ruby!” Sara shouts, bouncing with excitement.
“Get it!” Barrett adds, throwing a fist in the air like the little superhero he’s dressed as.
Ruby tentatively pokes the frosting with one finger, then lets out a squeal of delight. Her tiny hands dive in, smearing frosting everywhere—her tray, her face, and even her hair.
“She’s a natural,” Owen says, laughing as he pulls out his phone to take pictures.
“She’s a mess,” I reply, unable to stop smiling.
“She’s perfect,” he says softly, his voice warm as he wraps an arm around my waist.
The kids cheer her on as she squishes the cupcake in her fists, frosting flying in every direction. Sara jumps up and down, her tiara slipping slightly, and Barrett claps like Ruby’s just saved the day.
As the party winds down, the kids reluctantly peel off their costumes. Barrett declares that being Batman is “hard work,” and Sara falls asleep in Taylor’s lap, still clutching her Sofia wand.
Ruby, now clean and dressed in soft pajamas, snoozes in Owen’s arms as we sit on the porch, watching the last of the guests wave goodbye.
“I think she had a good day.” Owen says, looking down at Ruby with a soft smile.
“She had the best day,” I reply, resting my head on his shoulder. “And so did I.”
He presses a kiss to my temple, his voice low and full of warmth. “Happy first birthday, Ruby.”