Chapter 11
Caleb
Today is baby Fiona’s birthday party.
And fuck it if it isn’t the saddest event I’ve ever been invited to.
At first glance, everything looks up to par. Erin decorated the living room with soft pink and silver balloons and a large banner that reads ‘Princess Party’ hanging across the wall. There’s a small table set up in the center, covered with a sparkly pink tablecloth and adorned with princess-themed plates and cups. In one corner, a beautiful cake sits on a stand adorned with edible tiaras and crowns, ready for the birthday girl and her big sister to smash and enjoy. Plush pink and gold pillows are spread out on the floor for little ones to sit on, surrounded by toy castles and princess dolls. The whole room is filled with everything a toddler would want—lots of sugary treats and toys.
My sister-in-law went all out to make the day as memorable as possible for little Fiona, though I highly doubt a one-year-old will remember much of it. All things considered, maybe that’s for the best because if you take the time to look again at the room, you will see that it’s anything but festive.
And that all comes down to the adults that have been invited.
One by one, Erin’s guests walk in with large presents in their arms and congratulate her on her youngest daughter’s celebration. However, underneath their pleasantries and fake smiles, there’s no mistaking what they are all truly thinking. I can see it reflected on their faces every time they cast pitying glances towards Jack’s girls.
Why are we having a party when their father is dying?
And when baby Fiona’s gaze stares around the room like she’s waiting on Jack to walk through the door to pick her up in his arms, it only fucking breaks your heart more.
It’s too much for me to withstand.
If it weren’t for the girls and Erin, I wouldn’t have come.
But they need me here.
I need to be here.
For them.
For me.
And most importantly, for Jack.
Erin keeps herself busy with the rounds in the room, making sure everyone is having a good time. Unlike my sister-in-law, I lack the energy to mingle and talk with the adults here. Instead, I devote all my focus and attention to the little ones, ensuring this party is not the dismal affair it feels like to me. Hence why a few hours later, I’m rocking a tiara on top of my head, my face covered in make-up to look like a princess.
It’s only when Erin presents the afternoon’s entertainment, a puppet show, that I’m flung back to the adult world. The first thing I notice is how my mother has excused herself from the party, preferring to stand outside on the veranda, refusing to engage in the afternoon’s festivities.
She hasn’t talked to anyone.
Hasn’t drunk or eaten a thing.
All she does is stare into the city as if she could see her favorite son lying lifeless in his hospital bed all the way from where she’s standing.
Against my better judgment, I fix her a small plate and walk outside to hand it over to her.
“You should eat, Ma.”
“I’m not hungry,” she mutters, shoving the plate away.
“At least have a piece of cake,” I insist with a hopeful smile.
“I said I’m not hungry,” she snaps, her nose curling in distaste as she finally locks eyes with me. “Instead of trying to force-feed me, why don’t you go and clean that gunk off your face. You look ridiculous.”
“I was playing with the girls, Ma. This is their handiwork. It would disappoint them if I washed it off,” I mumble, disheartened, placing the plate on a nearby table. “Have you played with them today? I’m sure they’d like to spend some time with their grandmother.”
“I will spend time with them tomorrow when the house isn’t so… crowded.”
“Jesus, Ma,” I grumble, “This isn’t a wake. It’s a birthday party.”
“Is it? Because I can’t see the difference,” she counters, turning her head over her shoulder and watching the gloomy faces of all the adults here. “Erin shouldn’t have invited these people over. Not when…”
“When what, Ma? When is it a good time for Erin to celebrate Fiona’s first birthday?”
“When her father is here to see it. That’s when,” she snaps in annoyance.
“Ma—”
“Just leave me alone, Caleb. You’ve done enough as it is,” she retorts, piercing me to the spot with just one severe glance. “In fact, I think it’s time I went home. I’ll call Erin later when she’s not so occupied with tending to her guests.”
And with that remark, she walks away, not sparing me a second look.
It’s been this way since the accident.
My mother refuses to talk to me, but when she does, I somehow regret it.
With my hands shoved inside my pockets, I walk back into the house just in time to catch the last act of the puppet show. I try not to roll my eyes as everyone excitedly claps in approval, as if they had just witnessed a grand Broadway performance or something.
“You know most men couldn’t pull off the spoiled princess look, but somehow you managed to make it look seamless on you. I must say, I especially like the purple eyeshadow. It really makes our eyes pop,” Piper teases with a smug grin while Charlotte, Nate’s wife, softly chuckles at her side.
“Hardy har har.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Piper laughs. “I’m just messing with you. It was a nice thing you did, letting the girls give you a makeover. They really enjoyed it.”
“I agree. It’s actually been a very nice party so far,” Charlotte adds with a friendly tone.
“No, it hasn’t. It fucking sucks. The girls deserve better,” I mumble, my hand itching to grab a whiskey bottle from Jack’s stash and find a hidden corner somewhere in the house to get drunk.
But noooooooo.
I can’t do that.
Not when I’ve been instructed by God himself—aka my GM—not to touch a drop of alcohol.
Or at least pretend that I don’t, whenever he’s watching.
And since his girlfriend is now standing next to me, the fucker is definitely watching.
A quick scan through the crowded room and I instantly glimpse a pair of black eyes aimed right at me. But Trent’s gaze isn’t the only one I see, attentively scrutinizing my every move. Nate is watching me, too. The fucker hasn’t said a word to me all day, but now I find myself at the very center of his attention.
“I read somewhere that a child’s first memory only occurs when they turn three,” Lottie says out of the blue, her poor attempt to lighten my foul mood.
“Lucky Fiona. Cara, not so much,” I grumble, giving both women the stink eye, making sure that their significant others see me do it.
“Don’t be rude. Lottie didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just trying to make conversation,” Piper is quick to defend.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in the talking mood. So run along back to your men, ladies. I’m sure their company is better than mine. Excuse me.”
“Caleb,” I hear Piper call out, but I’m already gone.
Needing a fucking break from everyone, I head to the one place in the house that Jack, Erin, and I always liked to hide whenever they threw a party in their home. But as soon as I enter the kitchen, I realize I’m not the only one with the same idea. I frown, watching Erin sitting on the cold tile floor, her back up against the lower cupboards, looking completely drained from the day spent pretending to be the perfect hostess.
“Are you okay?” I ask after sitting down beside her.
“No,” she whispers back. “Not really.”
“Yeah, I figured.” I let out a loud exhale, giving her leg a little tap with mine.
“I think this party might have been a bad idea,” Erin confesses on an exhausted note.
“No, E. It wasn’t. You were just trying to make the girls happy. You’re a good mom.”
“Lately, I don’t feel like one,” she says sullenly, rubbing her pregnant belly. “I feel like a failure.”
“Well, you’re not, so cut that shit out.”
“Aren’t I, though?” she asks, her eyes starting to well up with tears. “I don’t know how to do this without him, Caleb. I just don’t.”
“I know. I know,” I repeat softly, warping my arm around her shoulders. “But hey, you still got me. Now I know it’s not the same thing. Fuck, if I don’t know that shit. But I’m here. I’m fucking here, E. So, tell me how I can make this better for you. Just tell me what you need.”
She leans her head on my chest, trying her utmost best to stifle her sobs.
“I need Jack, Caleb. That’s all I ever needed. That’s all my girls need, too. Just their father.”
I feel my heart sink at her words.
Because I know that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to fill the large hole left by Jack’s absence.
And most of all, I don’t want to.
Jack… was… is Jack.
I’d just be a poor man’s imitation even if I tried.
Still, I hate seeing Erin like this.
Fucking hate that I’m responsible for such grief.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” she whispers, wiping her tears away. “Any of it. I was the one who thought I’d be strong enough to see this party through.”
“You know, just because Jack isn’t here, that doesn’t mean we can’t rip a page out of his playbook and end the party like he always did,” I muse, with a sly grin on my lips.
“You mean kick everyone out? Wouldn’t everyone think I was rude?”
“We’re Donovans. Since when do we give a fuck what people think?” I chuckle. “Besides, the girls had more than enough fun with their little friends and pretty soon they’ll start getting cranky for their nap. So if we don’t start kicking people out the door, you’ll have your house full of crabby toddlers pretty soon.”
“Could you do it?” she says with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
“I’d be fucking delighted to.” I press a tender kiss on her forehead before jumping up to my feet and helping Erin up off the floor. “Go grab the girls, E. I got this.”
I walk into the living room with a spring in my step, letting out a loud whistle to grab everyone’s attention.
“Party is over! Get your shit and leave.” I shout, my smile stretching from ear to ear with a slew of the shocked faces I see amongst the crowd. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay the fuck here!”
“Language!” One of the mothers reprimands.
“Lady, your kid is gonna grow up hearing much worse. Might as well get used to it now.”
“Well, I never,” she gasps, appalled.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cry me a river, why don’t ya? Just make sure you pack your shit and leave while you do it.”
Everyone is up in arms, complaining about my less-than-civil request to vacate the premises. But there’s one person amongst the crowd that doesn’t look one bit put off by it.
In fact, he looks a little proud of me, as if he also remembers how Jack’s parties usually ended with him kicking everyone’s butt out the door. It reminds me that although Jack isn’t here, those who cherish and love him like I do will always find traces of his influence everywhere they look.
And right now, Nate sees him in me.
“Sláinte,” Nate mouths, raising his glass up high.
I pick up a nearby juice box and raise it up in unison.
“Sláinte.”
Once I’ve drunk the whole thing through, I smash up the juice box in my hand and throw it away, turning my back to the glimmer of pride in Nate’s eyes.
It should have never been there, to begin with.