Chapter 24
JULIETTE
The kitchen may be a hot mess, but it sure does smell like sugar, butter, and all kinds of birthday victory.
I flip the last pancake onto the plate, chocolate chips melting into glossy little pockets, then reach for the whipped cream. I go a little heavy-handed with it because it’s Theo’s birthday and because this is one of those mornings where rules can take the day off.
Ten. My son is ten today.
I carry the plate toward the hallway just as a small body barrels out of his bedroom like he’s been launched from a cannon.
“Mom!” Theo skids to a stop in socked feet, hair sticking up in three different directions, eyes bright and wild. “Is it pancake day or am I still dreaming?”
I laugh. “It’s pancake day.”
He pumps a fist. “YES.”
“Happy birthday, buddy,” I say, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Double digits.”
“I’m officially a very mature person now,” he says solemnly, then immediately bounces on his toes. “Okay, can we do it? Can we do birthday pancakes in bed?”
“Already planned,” I say, lifting the plate. “You think I’d forget?”
He gasps like I’ve just performed magic.
We pile onto my bed, because crumbs don’t count on birthdays, and Theo digs in with the enthusiasm of someone who has been counting down to this moment for weeks. He talks between bites, words tumbling over each other, barely stopping to chew.
“Hold on,” I say, reaching behind me to grab the small wrapped box I tucked against my pillow earlier. “Birthday boy gets birthday presents.”
His eyes widen. “Mom.”
“It’s small,” I warn, handing it to him. “But I always want you to have something to open on your birthday.”
“You’re already taking me to the game,” he says, laughing.
“Theo.” I wait until he meets my eyes. I love this kid so much, I want him to have it all. Yet, here he is, trying to tell me I shouldn’t have gotten him one of the gifts he asked for. “We have to mark the day you showed up in this world and changed mine forever. So yes. You get something to open.”
His expression softens enough to make my chest ache—and then he tears into the paper.
As a Rubik’s Cube drops into his hand, he lets out a triumphant cry. “No way!”
“Proceed with caution,” I mutter under my breath.
“I’ll play with it after we have breakfast.” He tucks it back into its box.
“Make sure you close the curtains,” I say, the memory of Vivan’s sister’s war-story already giving me the hives.
“Not sure why you’re worried about curtains, but I have some,” he says, holding up a finger slick with whipped cream, oblivious. “This is the best birthday ever. Like in the history of my having them.”
“Because you got to eat pancakes in bed and got a Rubik’s Cube?” I tease as I take a bite of my pancakes.
“Because it’s my real birthday and we’re going to a night game, which is already awesome.”
“Mmhmm,” I say, smiling, letting the sugar rush through my veins. In my opinion, birthdays run on frosting, but are layered with needed hits of adrenaline. I’ve learned to keep both stocked.
“It’s so cool I get to see Sawyer play,” he continues, eyes going dreamy. “Like actually play, not just practice. With the crowd and the music and the smoke thing.”
“The smoke thing is very important,” I agree.
“And Dad’s going to be there,” he adds easily, like it’s already a fact etched into the universe. “Charlie and Vivian are coming, and I get to wear my hoodie—oh, I forgot to ask, can we get cotton candy and some french fries with chili and cheese?”
My heart swells. I watch him talk, hands waving, joy vibrating off him in visible waves. He’s so open. So hopeful. It fills me up, while also making me want to wrap him in bubble wrap at the same time.
He pauses mid-bite, suddenly thoughtful. “What time will I see Dad?”
My stomach dips, but I don’t let it show. I keep my voice light, steady. “He’s meeting us at the arena, remember?”
Theo nods immediately, completely satisfied. “Oh yeah! That’s right.”
He grins, wide and unguarded. “This is going to be the best birthday ever.”
I smile back, brushing a smear of chocolate from his cheek and praying he’s right.
Theo wipes his hands on the blanket and looks up again, eyes bright with another thought.
“Do you think we’ll see Sawyer before the game?” he asks. “Like when he’s walking in?”
“I don’t know,” I say easily. “Game days are busy. I think he’ll already be inside.”
Theo shrugs, unfazed. “That’s okay. We can see him after.”
Something in my chest loosens at how simple he makes it.
“It’s still really cool that he’s playing on my birthday,” he adds, grinning. “Like that feels special.”
“It is special,” I say, standing to gather the empty plate, carrying it into the kitchen. My eyes flick to my phone again.
Still nothing.
No texts.
No calls.
No checking in on his son’s birthday. No asking if he can talk to Theo, really quick. No confirmation at all.
I set the plate in the sink just as my phone lights up. I grab it and am immediately filled with a surge of happiness when I see Sawyer’s name.
Sawyer:
Happy birthday to the birthday boy! See you tonight.
I smile before I can stop myself.
“What?” Theo calls from the bed.
I take my phone over to show him Sawyer’s message. After he joyfully screams, I take a pic of him shoving a forkful of pancakes in his mouth to send to Sawyer “for luck,” because of course.
He then hops off the bed, bouncing back toward his room to get dressed, already narrating his plan to wear his Dominion hoodie “for maximum luck.”
As he disappears down the hall, he calls over his shoulder, “I can’t wait to see Sawyer!”
It’s not loaded. It’s not a comparison. It’s just part of the day, filed right alongside cake, hockey, and people he likes.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” I say, reaching for my mug. “Then we’ll get you dressed like the very important ten-year-old you are.”
“Okay!” Theo says, already halfway to his room.
I take two steps down the hall before I hear the thud of his feet behind me.
“Wait—Mom.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, squeezing hard. Really hard. I look down, startled all over again by how tall he’s getting as I rest my chin on the top of his head. When did that happen?
I hug him back, just as tight.
“Thanks for everything, Mom,” he says into my shirt. “This is already the best birthday.”
My throat closes.
He hasn’t even gotten to the game yet. Or the arena. There’s still lights, noise, and all of the magic he’s been counting down to for weeks. My son is already grateful. It’s adorable.
“Hey,” I say, kissing the top of his head. “You deserve a good day, buddy.”
He grins up at me, filled with confidence and ten-year-old certainty. “I know.”
He darts off again, leaving me standing there with my heart cracked open in the best and worst way.
I turn toward the bathroom, resolve settling in alongside the nerves.
No matter what happens today—with David, with the game, with any expectations that don’t pan out—I will make sure Theo has the birthday he deserves.
One perfect day. That’s all I’m asking for.
And if David doesn’t show…well, I’ve already proven I’m pretty good at plan B’s.
Whatever today brings—the game, the crowd, Sawyer, the jumbotron, all of it—I’m ready.
I have to be.