20. Epilogue
Epilogue
I wasn’t supposed to be awake, but the music downstairs was too pretty to take a nap through. It floated up the steps and made its way into my bedroom. I stood on the bottom step, trying not to make a peep.
“Shh,” I whispered to my doll baby. She was a good companion at nighttime and always behaved at dance recitals—but was the absolute worst when playing hide-and-go-seek.
She’d always ask me a random question about nail polish and why Mommy said we weren’t old enough for it.
And because I agreed with her logic—my baby dolls, not Mommy’s—I’d have to answer her, and boom, caught. Game over.
From where I stood, I could see Mommy and Daddy in the family room. The lights from the Christmas tree made everything glow lavender and pink. Mommy and Daddy were slowly dancing under their big wedding picture, the one where they were laughing and holding me when I was still a baby.
Mommy always called the song they were dancing to a lullaby.
But I didn’t get it. Most of the lullabies I heard didn’t sound like that.
They were soft and sleepy, the kind that made you lose the fight with the sandman.
This one had a little beat, the kind that made Daddy grab Mommy and hold her tight.
But Mommy said it was her favorite. Every time it played, she smiled as if she was remembering something that made her happy a long time ago.
Daddy couldn’t hug her all the way because her tummy was big now.
It was where my little brother was growing, and I was excited because I would get to meet him around Valentine’s Day.
Mommy said he would be the last baby unless Daddy got a stork to bring the next one because her pregnancies were now labeled “geriatric.” I didn’t know what that meant, but it had to be disgusting because she would curl her lip up when she said it.
The song changed, and Mommy laughed, hiding her face in Daddy’s chest. Her laugh made me giggle too, but I covered my mouth fast so they wouldn’t see me spying.
A Christmas bulb fell off the tree, and I watched Daddy go to pick it up and place it back.
He arranged at least six bulbs before he was finished, making Mommy smile.
He was always moving things around, and one time he took me shopping for only socks because he said I had too many white ones in my drawer.
Which reminded me—I need to get the crazy socks I made for my little cousin Apollo.
Auntie Amber and Uncle Creed were stopping by tomorrow to sing happy birthday to me, along with my grandmas and grandpas, Uncle Taj, and my two Godfathers, Jason and Desmond.
I wiggled my toes against the step, looking at the shiny banner that said “ Happy Birthday Snoh”, in sparkly letters.
I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Christmas and my birthday mean double gifts.
Sometimes I wondered why Mommy and Daddy always got emotional on my birthday.
Mommy would always be the first to cry, and Daddy would comfort her.
One time, I asked her why my birthday made her sad, and she told me that they were happy tears, explaining that she would share the story with me when I got older.
“Come here, baby girl.”
Daddy’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“See what you did,” I whispered to my doll. “You always get us caught.”
I left her on the steps as I ran to leap into his arms.
“I want a dance with my favorite four-almost-five-year-old.”
The music changed to Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely .
I knew that one. Daddy always played it when he brushed my hair or packed my lunch.
He said it was our song. Mommy watched us, smiling and softly humming the words as she rubbed my baby brother in her belly.
I laid my head on Daddy’s shoulder and closed my eyes.
Apparently, the sandman came back for his revenge.
“You know, baby girl,” I heard Daddy’s deep voice say as he rubbed my back, “you’re living proof that Christmas miracles exist.”
I had no clue what he was talking about, but his deep voice, slow sways, and the rubs on my back felt nice.
“Go lay her down,” I heard Mommy whisper.
“I will,” he responded. “Just let me hold her for a little while longer.”
I was glad Mommy didn’t protest, ’cause I could stay here forever, never letting go of the person whose voice, for some reason, I couldn't resist.
The End.