5. Harper
Harper
Four Years and Six Months Later
“Happy birthday, dear Lizzie, happy birthday to you!” the small group gathered in my backyard sings, as Lizzie sits grinning while covering her ears.
Her eyes are glued on her Sofia the First themed birthday cake with a big number four candle in the center, the tiny flame dancing in the light breeze.
“Make a wish and blow out the candle, Lizzie,” I call, tears nearly choking me.
Lizzie actually does it. Last year, she just grabbed the still lit candle and tried to shove it into her mouth.
It’s a wonder what one year and a great therapy team can do.
At three, Lizzie wasn’t speaking, avoided eye contact, struggled with eating, and had difficulty sleeping through the night.
By the time we got in to see the developmental pediatrician, her autism diagnosis came as no surprise.
I remember my best friend, Bree, asking if it was hard to hear the diagnosis.
It had been easy to answer that, no, it wasn’t hard.
If anything, it was a relief. I’d been wondering and researching until I was sure I had earned my Google MD by that point, so it was a weight off my shoulders to finally, officially, have a diagnosis.
It didn’t change the way I saw my baby, and it hadn’t mattered to anyone that was important in our lives.
What it had done was connect us with amazing occupational and speech therapists that were invested in helping my daughter achieve all her goals, however that looked.
They have been such a gift. Lizzie still isn’t talking, aside from a few approximations of words, but we are discussing some new options to give her means to communicate, and she tolerates food and sounds so much better these days.
Mrs. Shaina is bustling about like a proud grandma, cutting the cake, and directing everyone to form a line.
Warmth floods through me as I watch her and Lizzie together.
Knowing without her, my life would be so different.
At nineteen, I showed up at her door scared, pregnant, and alone.
She hugged me and took me under her wing, giving me a job, and supporting me as I found my way through some of the hardest times in my life.
“Elizabeth Quinn, you come on over here, you get the first slice, birthday girl!” she shouts over the den of voices gathered around the table.
Lizzie squeals, hopping up and down, bouncing on her toes as the excitement of the day pulses through her.
I smile as I walk over, hugging my girl and chuckling.
Only Shaina calls her by her full name, but no one can blame her.
When I was just hitting my ninth month of pregnancy, Shaina’s daughter and Cass’s roommate, Quinn, had been in a car accident on her way to pick up dinner and didn’t survive.
Shaina was all sorts of riled up when she heard I went into labor and hadn’t called, not wanting to impose during a time of so much grief.
She bustled into the hospital room, hands on her hips, ready to tell me off.
Which she proceeded to do until she saw the name on the board along with the date of birth, height, and weight: Elizabeth Quinn Murphy.
“Quinn brought us together and gave me a life I love. There was no other name for my girl,” I whispered, handing a sleeping Lizzie to Shaina. We cried and held each other for a long time, sharing our grief, pain, and hope for the future together.
Wiping a tear brought on by the memory from four years ago, I kiss my daughter and get her settled in her seat with a slice of cake. She’ll only eat the frosting and little candies on the top—cake’s not really her thing, but she seems happy and content, and that fills my soul.
I really wish Cass would have come down, but she doesn’t visit often.
Her grief over Quinn nearly drowned her.
She pulled away in a deep depression for over a year.
I regret how little I was aware of her struggle while I was too deep in new single motherhood.
After that first year, we started talking weekly and reconnecting.
Cass ended up going back to school and became a nurse, then signed on as a traveling nurse as soon as she graduated.
Even though she’s traipsing all over, we still make time to talk weekly, and the rekindling of that relationship was such a balm to my weary heart after my family turned me out.
Glancing up at the sky, I sigh, relieved that Oregon weather cooperated and allowed us to hold the party outdoors.
In fact, Oregon had shown up with sunshine, a light breeze, and temps in the sixties, so basically a perfect day in the Pacific Northwest. The rest of the party is a whirlwind of bubbles, balloon animals, and a bouncy house that I know I will have to drag Lizzie out of for her bath tonight.
She loves jumping and will do it for hours if I let her.
The day had been everything I could have wanted and more, and watching my girl surrounded by so much love had me on the brink of tears all day.
Shaina and Bree stayed for a while after the party, helping me clean up and getting Lizzie settled for the night. Knowing our night routine is crucial in setting her up to hopefully sleep through the night, they sent me inside with Lizzie, and by the time I came out, most of the cleanup was done.
“Y’all did too much!” I sigh as we make our way to the porch, drinks in hand.
I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath.
Lizzie had been exhausted but fidgety through bath and story time, which usually doesn’t bode well for the night, but I’m hoping all the bouncing and excitement is enough to combat the overstimulation let down.
Time will tell…and that time is usually around two in the morning.
“Well, I think that was one successful birthday.” Shaina sighs, settling in the rocking chair she always commandeers when she’s here.
“It was, and Lizzie looked so happy!” Bree gushes her hazel eyes bright with excitement, looking almost green in the fading light.
She fiddles with her hair, trying to force it into a claw clip, but her black tresses aren’t cooperating.
In a moment of boredom, she had walked into a salon and told them to cut it all off.
Now she is constantly trying to contain it and get it out of her face.
It makes me chuckle every time I see it.
“She was. I can’t thank you both enough for being here and helping, and Bree, you outdid yourself with that cake.
It was perfect.” I cried when she showed up with it.
Knowing Lizzie is more of a candy girl, Bree had ordered lavender chocolate candies to make Sofia's gown out of, ensuring Lizzie had plenty of candy, while still giving her the birthday cake moment; which, let’s be honest, was more for me.
For our, just the two of us birthday treat, I made her a Kit Kat pyramid, so it was purely a Lizzie delicacy.
“I wouldn't have missed it for the world. You know I love Lizzie like she’s my own,” Bree says, and I know it’s true.
These two women are the only people, outside of Cass, that I trust with my daughter.
Their love and friendship have been the greatest blessing of my life outside of Lizzie, of course.
I slump in my chair, trying to relax my already aching back after all the time in the bouncy house.
Suddenly, I feel so much older than twenty-four.
Daniel walks up to join us, probably coming around to pick up Shaina, who will talk until dawn if he doesn’t prod her along. Shaina smiles at him, and he gives her a nod, handing her a gift bag. “What is this? You already gave Lizzie a present!”
“This isn’t for Lizzie, dear.” Shaina hands it over, her eyes glossy with tears, but smiling ear to ear. “It’s for you, hun.”
Inside is a large manila envelope. I eye it then her, noting the looks shared between husband and wife. Oh, they are definitely up to something. Pulling out a thick stack of papers, I read the first paragraph and freeze:
The undersigned, Shaina Marie Anderson, hereby agrees to transfer, assign, and convey to Harper G. Murphy, one hundred percent (100%) of her ownership interest in The Driftwood Spa…
“What is this?” My voice is rough like I swallowed gravel.
I’m unable to comprehend what I just read.
Bree’s eyes are darting between us, and I can tell it is killing her not knowing what’s going on.
Silently, without taking my eyes from Shaina and Daniel, I hand it to her.
Her gasp is audible when she reads the contract.
“I can’t. You can’t. Why?” I can’t seem to put together a complete sentence.
“Oh, we can, and we did,” Shaina announces with a curt nod, like that settles everything. Opening my mouth, I attempt to speak again, but this time, it’s Daniel who speaks up.
“Let us do this, darlin’.” Daniel’s from Texas, and although he loves it here, he has never fully lost the twang that Shaina says still makes her weak in the knees.
Sniffing back tears, Shaina moves her chair beside mine, taking my hand in hers.
“When my Quinn passed away, I was sure I would die right alongside her. If it weren’t for Daniel, and Justin, and you, I think I might just have done that.
” A single tear tracks down her cheek now lined with wrinkles from a life filled with smiles, laughter, and in recent years, unimaginable grief.
“Then in my darkest hour, when I was sure I would never get out of bed again, I got the call that you were in labor. I didn’t think—I just went.
Seeing my girl's name, forever a part of your beautiful baby…well, honey, that day, I felt the first little ember of life inside of me again.”
My tears are now flowing freely. I hear a choked sob and laugh when I see Daniel comforting Bree. She has the gentlest heart, a hopeless romantic that cries during every Hallmark movie, ever. This moment feels like a scene from one of those movies, and I’m completely overwhelmed.
“I finally feel alive again, Harper, and Daniel and I have been talking. We want to retire. Travel and spend more time in Washington with Justin.”
I gasp. Justin is Daniel and Shaina’s son. There is no way he’s okay with an outsider being given the family business.
“But what about Justin? Shouldn’t he get the company? Or you could sell it and it would be an inheritance.”
Shaina chuckles. “Who do you think drew up the contract, dear?” Justin is a lawyer in Washington state, and Bree holds up the contract again, pointing at the name on the form.
“It was a family decision.” Shaina turns to look at Daniel, who nods in agreement.
Shaina squeezes my hand. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way you stepped up when my grief left me incapable of running the spa.
You sprang into action, taking the place on while preparing to have a baby.
Lizzie took her first steps in the hall and wrote her first letters on the walls of the office.
” We’re both laughing through our tears at the memory of walking in on Lizzie writing L’s all over the walls in sharpie.
On one hand, I was so proud she was writing, but on the other, indelible ink now covered the pale green walls.
“It has been my honor to watch the way you have grown these few years, Harper, and I love you so much.”
Both crying ugly tears, we stand and embrace one another. “I can’t imagine the spa without you there.” I shake my head, truly unable to picture it.
“Oh, I’ll still be around and will help whenever needed. Plus, you know me, gotta keep my finger in every pot in this town!”
“If that ain't the truth,” Daniel deadpans, drawing laughter from us all.
It is such a warm moment, and my heart feels close to bursting.
I miss Quinn so much, our time together was short, but I will be forever grateful for the family she gave me and the kindness she showed when I needed it most. In moments like this, I can almost feel her with us.
My heart aches to have her and Cass here, where they should be, celebrating alongside us and sharing these little moments of joy.