Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Twenty-Four Years Ago
The candles on the cake flickered in the light breeze that filtered through the oak leaves on the trees that lined the backyard. Helen had bought a house. It wasn’t a big house—it was tiny, in fact—but it had a great backyard. And that was what really mattered, to her way of thinking.
She’d fenced the yard, put a dog in it, and now she and Julie spent most of their free time back there. Julie toddled around on her little chubby legs, so new to walking that she fell as often as not. Meanwhile, Helen did the gardening, sipped tea on the back porch, or pushed Julie on the swing. It was their happy place. And Helen didn’t take it for granted.
Julie was one year old. The cake wasn’t perfect. It was meant to be a pair of ballerina slippers, but one slipper had slid to the side and looked more like a pink banana. Still, no one minded. The fact that Helen and Julie had made it through the first twelve months of Julie’s life was still something of a miracle. The baby had barely slept at first, had terrible reflux for a good six months, and had started walking early—which meant no rest for her mother.
But lately things had settled down. She was sleeping through the night. The reflux had abated. She was eating well. And she’d stopped running into the coffee table with her forehead since she was a little taller than the table now.
Life was good.
Finally, Helen could honestly say that she was happy. Most of the time, anyway.
The small crowd sang happy birthday. Her parents and Rita were there along with Paul’s parents, siblings and a few close friends. She’d pulled away from most of their friends after Paul’s death. She couldn’t bear to be around them. They had such long faces, oozed pity, and wanted to avoid any and every mention of her husband. She needed to break free, start over. And so she did.
She moved to another town, not far away, but far enough to warrant another circle of acquaintances. She’d changed jobs to one that better suited being a mother. As an RN at a local aged care facility, she could work three days per week from nine-to-five and get home in time to collect Julie from daycare, have dinner together and put her to bed. She wished she could have more time at home with her, but for now, this was all they could manage. Paul’s pension gave her the flexibility to stay home with Julie part of the week, and the money she needed to put a downpayment on a small home with a yard that backed onto a deeply wooded area. Sometimes there were deer in their yard. It was paradise.
They cut the cake, and Julie smooshed some into her mouth. The delight on her face at the first taste of frosting was more than worth the hours that had gone into baking and decorating it. Helen had been up until midnight putting the finishing touches on the cake and packing the party bags with gifts and treats.
Filled with sugar, the one-year-olds scattered throughout the yard now, headed for the swing set, the sandpit, and the dog who was running away as fast as she could, tail tucked. Helen caught the dog and shoved her into the house, shutting the door behind her.
She followed Julie around the yard. The child settled in the sandpit and began scooping sand into a yellow bucket.
“She’s beautiful,” Rita said, coming up behind her.
“She really is.”
“That hair…” Rita said. Everyone always commented on it. So much thick, dark hair. She hadn’t known babies could have hair like that. It looked as though she’d had it styled at a salon. It already reached halfway down her back.
“I know. I’m not really sure what to do with it. Should I cut it? I’ll have to at some stage, or she’ll sit on it. And she’s always getting it in her food.”
“I can’t relate,” Rita replied with a chuckle. “I’ve never had hair that grew so fast or thick.”
“Me either,” Helen replied, tugging at her own short, thin, blonde locks.
“I wonder where she got those eyes, too.” Rita frowned. “They’re so brown. It’s like she’s looking into my soul. She grabs me by the ears and peers into my eyes and says Rita. I would give her anything at that moment. A pony? Do you want a pony? Aunt Rita will buy you one, little darling.” She spoke the last words in a song-song voice pointed at Julie, who laughed out loud in that cheeky little bubbling laugh that was so contagious.
Helen had often thought the same thing though. She loved her daughter so much. But where did the dark brown eyes, the thick, brown hair, and the compliant personality come from? Paul had hazel eyes and light brown hair. She and her entire family were blonde with blue eyes. Maybe it was a recessive gene? She wished she’d paid more attention in biology. Was it even possible? She couldn’t recall. Regardless, she was all Helen had in the world, and she was perfect. It was because of Julie that Helen had managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other after Paul was gone. If it hadn’t been for her, she didn’t know if she’d have been able to go on.