13. chapter thirteen
chapter thirteen
happy birthday marigold
F or the first time in a long time, I’m not dreading seeing myparents.
The last time I’d seen them was at the airport, just before I boarded the plane to New York nearly six weeks ago. There hadn’t been any heaviness in saying goodbye then, and now I understood why—everything had changed in exactly the way I’d imagined it would.
I’d found friends. Real friends. The kind who made the days fly by, who made every moment feel worth savouring. Life here wasn’t just new; it was effortless. Natural. Full of the laughter and warmth I hadn’t realised I’d been missing until I found it. It filled me up in a way that felt like home.
And then there was Tristan. Every moment with him felt like stepping into a secret world, one that belonged to just the two of us, where time slowed and we moved to our own rhythm. And Henry—his energy was like pure sunshine, so warm and vibrant it felt like the entire world could run on his joy.
Life here had become everything I’d hoped for, and more. It was everything I hadn’t even realised I needed. But perhaps the biggest change was how I felt about my parents. The people I’d once tiptoed around, the ones who had always mapped out my future, now felt like a steadying presence I could trust completely. For the first time, everything felt right. Exactly right.
I don't look at my dad and see a man with dollar signs in his eyesand not an ounce of love in his heart. Instead, I see a dad who is trying to be a better man than the one who raised me.
I don’t glance at my mom and see a woman who wants to see herdreams through her daughters. Instead, I see a woman who, although was always a good mom, is trying to be better.
Take today, for example. They’ve flown all the way L.A. to be withme on my birthday. It doesn’t seem like a lot, I know. But to me… it’s everything.
My past few birthdays were signed away from me, the rules ofseveral filming contracts stealing those precious moments, and, although my smile was deceiving, the sprinkle cupcake and candle left by my cast mates in my dressing room simply weren’t enough to take away the hurt of having my one day stripped from me.
For the first time in a long time, today was mine.
“You sure you’re settling in okay?” My mom asked from across my favouritebooth in Flo's, her simple jeans and t-shirt being a nice change from the feather-cuffed robes she used to live in.
I swallow down a few sugary apple chunks and take a sip of my coffeebefore I nod at her, and then to Dad. “I really am. I knew I’d adjust just fine but, oh my God, I love it here, you guys.”
As I locked eyes with my dad, he tilted his chin at me. “And you’representation this morning?”
I nodded quickly. “I think I did well. And if the way our professor'smouth gaped throughout the whole thing meant anything, then I’m sure everything went great. And I had a feeling it would. We put so much effort into the research. I’m pretty sure we stayed in the library until midnight one time—”
“Goldie.” Mom sighed, her worry knitted in her brows.
“But it’s only because I love it, Mom. I forgot how much I lovelearning.”
I see it on their faces then. All those times I was picked up earlyfrom school or dropped off to class at noon, so much of my education wasted running to and from auditions and callbacks.
But that was in the past; there was no point in dwelling on it. Whywaste my time looking back when the road ahead looked so perfect?
Well, perfect if I could just figure out how to work up the courageto ask Henry out.
The thought of his blonde hair and adorable glasses brought anunconscious smile on my face, before I felt the beginnings of a daydream trickle into my mind, building up the dam before I zoned out completely.
Maybe now that the presentation was over, I’d find a way to givehim more than just subtle hints or glances that I hope he’d study and see the question written in there, asking him for me.
Maybe tonight would be the perfect chance.
“Oh, can we just give it to her now, James?” Mom’s voice pulled meout of the clouds in my mind and back into the moment, my eyes darting between their mirrored, giddy smiles.
Dad’s shoulders rolled, the wrinkles that bordered his eyesdeepened as his smile grew. “Yeah, get it out, Bet,”
Quick as anything, Mom pulled out a box from under the table, asthough she’d made it appear my magic. “We wanted you to have this.” She slides a green velvet box over to me, and when my eyes meet hers, she nods at me, and I don’t waste any more time before I pick it up.
I hold my breath as I open the lid, the early evening chatter insidethe bakery filtering between us, but the gasp that skated past my lips as I caught a glimpse of what lay on the inside was loud enough to quieten it.
“ Mom.” I barely muttered those three letters; all my strengthdeserting me the second my eyes landed on the gold locket that was laced with a satin ribbon, sitting daintily in the box. My fingers felt shaky as they glided over the bundle of marigolds that were engraved in the centre.
I tore my eyes away from the locket, tears stinging the corners as Iglanced up at my parents. “What…” I swallowed the lump in my throat as my eyes darted between them. “What is this?”
It was Dad who scooted closer to me, while Mom let her eyes driftdown to the table, almost shamefully.
He cleared his throat. “We bought this locket the day we decidedwhat your name was going to be.” The beginnings of goosebumps began to trail my arms. “We were in this neighbourhood near the marina, just me, your mom, and Addy, who couldn’t have been older than eight. We were all talking about what our favourite names were, and what we wanted you to be called.”
“Mine was Maebelle.” My mom said, her smile widening. “I just lovedit.”
My head tilted as I mirrored her smile, before Dad shuffled besideme again.“I’d seen the name Sophie in a script that had been passed aroundwhen I used to work on the sets, and it had always been in the back of my mind.”
I glanced between them. “So, where did Marigold come from?”
They eyed each other before my mom tackled my question. “It wasyour sister, actually.” Before I could react, she carried on. “She said she had been doing a project for school, about botanicals and insects, and she became obsessed with marigolds. So much so that she wanted to plant a bunch in the yard. And she thought the name sounded pretty too. Told us that it was the birth flower for October, which was when you were due, and how they were symbols for joy.”
Mom’s eyes lit up the more she spoke, and something about thatmade me tilt my head and just watch her, existing in a light I’d never seen her in before.
“Anyway.” Dad stepped in, stealing my stare back. “We couldn’tdecide between the three of them, and we had to pick one quickly because… what were you Betty, two… three weeks out from having her?”
“It was two… she came right on time.” Mom sent a wink my way, oursmiles identical.
“Well, for whatever reason, we stopped outside this little jewellerystore, and when your mom looked in the window she called me over.”
My eyes fell back down onto the locket, my fingertips grazing thesatin that made up the chain and letting the scene play out in my head.
“The second I saw that locket, I knew we had to name you Marigold,I knew it was a sign.” Mom gushed, running her hands through her auburn strands.
“So… why are you giving me this now?” I smiled the question, butthat wasn’t the reaction my parents had.
Like before, both of their expressions grayed, as though they werereliving something that haunted them.
But my mom braved it, prying her balmed lips open. “You weresupposed to have this on your eighteenth birthday, last year.”
Oh.
Immediately I was back to that day.
I think that was the day I knew I wanted things to change withacting. The day I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore, sacrificing my dreams for someone else… It wasn’t fair. My birthday was spent on a set. Some stupid commercial, but the producers had asked for me specifically. I wasn’t sure why, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
The only thing I wanted to know was why I was spending my eighteenth birthday in the corner of a pop-up dressing room, crying into my hands so hard that I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.
My eyelids snapped closed when I thought about that day, andinstead, I focused on the locket as I slipped it out of its box.
Dad cleared his throat. “When we were packing up your things foryour move here… we found it, right at the bottom of a box where we’d kept all your baby clothes.” My head sprang to his when is heard the cracks in his voice. “We’d forgotten all about it, and when we got talking about the day we bought it, it just hit us that we never gave it to you.”
Guilt swept over my mom’s face as she nodded at me. “Goldie, we areso sorry. For everything.”
My dad smoothed out my hair, which did nothing but make my lipstart to quiver. “We are, Goldie. And we hope that what we’re doing—selling the Malibu house, becoming a bigger part of your and your sisters' lives—is enough.”
Addy and I had a conversation after everything erupted, after thenight we’d all had dinner and told them that it felt like they’d been deaf to us our whole lives, talking about how we didn’t think they’d change their ways.
We didn’t believe two people, who were so adamant on seeing theirdreams come to fruition that they’d force their children to take them on for the versions of themselves that couldn’t, could ever change.
I’ve never been happier to be wrong about something.
I smiled at them both as I shucked a tear away from my lash line.“You listened to me, that was all I ever wanted, Dad. And I think me and Addy are both happy with you guys… and the house in Montana looks incredible. I can’t wait to see it when we’re back for Thanksgiving.”
Selling their mansion by the ocean was one of the first things theydecided to do. When they took a step back and had some time to think, they realised L.A. was rotting them, and getting away would be like getting clean, getting away from everything that was silently killing their lives.
“We can’t wait to have you, both of you. It’s just what we needed.”My mom beamed from her side of the booth.
We sat in that easy silence then, the kind that I never used to havewith my parents, while we chatted about college, about my friends, about everything that they wouldn’t have taken an interest in before.
It was then that I thanked whoever it was who didn’t make me anangry person.
It would have been easy for me to hold a grudge against them, todeny them the room to change and let them sink into their regret, let it eat away at them while I smiled and took pleasure out of their misery.
Just the thought of doing that made me want to squirm in my seat.
Some might call me naive for forgiving so quickly, for handing outsecond chances like they were meaningless… but when I knew in my heart that this change would be permanent, that their actions weren’t some fad diet that they’d grow tired of soon, I knew I couldn’t label myself as anything other than wise.
I suppose that was one of the only blessings of being such a precocious child.
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