Page 26 of Hale Yes
I fork up a cluster of greens. “I'm going to dinner at my parents’ tonight, and my dad always makes his red beans and rice with andouille sausage for my birthday. Ma makes my favorite strawberry cake. Just wanted to save room.”
Lehra is still looking at me with something akin to pity in her eyes. Probably because of the comment I made about being on my own at a young age. Hell, I don’t need pity. Things weren’t great around my house back then, so I was more than happy to go.
She hugs me again. “I hope you have the best birthday dinner ever.”
“I hope so too.”
Yeah, that doesn’t happen.
Traffic was a bitch today so I’m three minutes late to dinner. I still take a minute to check my bun in the rearview mirror to make sure there are no little stray curls poking out.
As I enter my parents’ house through the front door, I call out, and Pop yells that they’re in the dining room. Making my way down the short corridor, I search for the scent of the spices my father uses in his red beans and rice recipe, but my nostrils aren’t picking it up. His family is originally from south Louisiana, and they moved here when he was little, though his mother taught him all her recipes as he grew up in Jersey.
“Hey!” I greet, earning me a glare from my mother, who’s standing beside the table with a large metal pot in her hand.
“You’re late,” she snaps, and I hide my wince as I sit down across from Angelica and Rory.
“Yeah, sorry. Traffic.”
“Well, we almost started without you,” she grouches, dipping a large spoon into the pot and pulling out not red beans and rice, but chicken and dumplings. Angelica’s favorite. The disappointment hits hard, but maybe Pop had a long day at work today.
I pick at my food as we eat and make small talk throughout dinner, thinking I may have two slices of strawberry cake to make up for not getting the Cajun dish my father usually makes for me. When we’re almost done, I decide it’s time to tell my family about my new job and my upcoming move to Texas.
“I have an announcement.”
Pop smiles at me. “What’s going on, Nicci? Something good, I hope.”
“I think so. I got?—”
“We have an announcement too,” Angelica breaks in, elbowing Rory until he stands.
Okaaaay, go ahead then. It’s not like I was talking or anything.
My ex then drops to one knee and pulls a ring box from his pocket. Ma squeals. Pop gapes. Angelica gasps like she’s surprised, even though this was obviously pre-planned.
Then Rory proposes to my sister with a diamond ring and an excessive amount of flowery language. At one point I believe he said something about her being a perpetual box of treasures that he looks forward to opening for the rest of his life.
I hope to god the treasure box he referred to wasn’t her vagina, or I might puke up the few bites of chicken I consumed only minutes ago.
After Angelica inevitably says yes, Ma jumps up and throws her arms around the couple, openly sobbing about her baby and her new son. Not exactly the time to mention my news, so I paste a smile on my face as Pa congratulates the couple. Then I do the whole obligatorycongratulations, I’m so happy for you boththing as I try to figure out when I should bring up my news.
Ma is still beaming a few minutes later when she says she has a special dessert for us and dashes into the kitchen. My mouth waters in anticipation of the moist strawberry cake with pink frosting that she’s about to bring out.
But when she returns, there’s no pink cake. It’s white, though there are two lit candles on top. My heart sinks to the floor when I notice that the chunky candles aren’t a three and a four. No, there’s a three and a six.
“I realized earlier that we’re going to miss Angelica’s thirty-sixth birthday next month when she goes to New York, so I thought we’d celebrate tonight,” our mother gushes, and it hits me.
They forgot my birthday. They fucking forgot.
Not that I’m the kind of person who needs a big deal made out of their birthday. I don’t want surprise parties and lavish gifts, though actually being remembered by my own family one day a year would be nice.
The cake has sliced bananas all over it, which everyone knows I don’t like, but Ma plops a slice in front of me anyway. It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s no big deal.
I repeat that to myself until everyone is done with their dessert, and then I carry the dishes to the kitchen while Angelica opens her gifts from Rory and our parents. It would have been nice to know Ma planned this early birthday party for my sister so I could have brought a gift as well. Now I just feel left out. As usual.
After loading the dishwasher, I walk back through to the dining room. “Hey, guys. I’m headed back home.”
Pop rises. “I’ll walk you out, honey.” He follows me out the door to my dark-blue Audi. When we reach the end of the sidewalk, he asks, “Are you okay, Nicci? With Rory and Angelica? I know that has to be hard for you.”
