Page 9 of The Birthday Girl
3- Who’s The Father
Tahlia's personal phone had been silent for twenty-three days, and when it finally buzzed to life at 2:17 PM, it was her mother's name that flashed across the screen. Tahlia's heart leapt when she snatched it up, then plummeted as she read the text.
Danielle had the baby. 6lbs 4oz. Need you to get crib, stroller, and car seat. The premium ones. She prefers the Uppababy brand. Also, diapers are needed for the first 3 months. Call me.
Weeks had gone by without a word, and when she finally heard from her family, it wasn’t to check if she was alive. It was to ask for help. Not to pay a measly bill. No, she wanted her to bankroll the expenses for her sister’s newborn.
Tahlia stared at the message, reread it, and for a brief, dangerous moment, considered hurling the phone through the window, but she'd never been one for theatrics. So, instead, she dropped her phone back on her desk, refusing to answer the text.
Three minutes later, her phone rang, and Tahlia debated not answering, but she knew that wouldn’t stop her mother. It would only lead to a visit, and that was the last thing Tahlia wanted from any of her family.
“What do you want? I’m busy,” Tahlia answered without pleasantries.
Tisha sighed into the phone. “I know you got my message, Tah. Your sister doesn’t have diapers, clothes, a crib… nothing. She needs your help.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Tahlia asked, disgusted that her mother’s first call wasn’t to explain why she had skipped her party, but to ask for money.
She had no intention of taking on her sister’s burden, though she did feel sorry for her niece. The baby hadn’t asked to be born to lazy, incompetent parents.
“Have a heart, baby. Your family needs you.”
“And where is that same family when I need them?”
“We’re here, Tah. Just because we live different lifestyles and travel in different circles doesn’t mean we don’t love you.”
“You sure about that?” Her voice was tight, her anger rising. “Because I never feel the love.”
“Yes, baby, so help your sister.”
Tahlia exhaled, her thoughts fixed on the child, not the adults who had failed her. “The only thing I’m willing to do is pay for a baby shower. That way, everyone else can open their wallets for once and pitch in. If y’all really believe it takes a village, then let the village show up.”
Silence stretched before her mother asked carefully, “So… you’ll be there?”
“No.” She snapped. “I’ll cover the cost, but I’m not putting myself through that circus.”
“Alright,” Tisha said quickly—too quickly, as if relieved.
Tahlia pulled the phone away, stared at it, then pressed it back to her ear. “Alright? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“You’re grown. Do what you want.”
“What if I want to treat you the way you treat me?”
“And how is that, Tah?”
“If no one calls me, I won’t call. If no one shows up for me, I won’t show up for them either. This is the year of reciprocation. I’m done playing games with y’all.”
“That’s fine,” her mother replied flatly, as if she didn’t care.
The calm infuriated her. Tahlia wanted an argument, a fight, something to prove it mattered whether she showed up. Instead, her mother sounded relieved, as if she were one less responsibility for her to carry.
“So it doesn’t matter if I treat you the same way you treat me?”
“I’m saying it’s your choice. We just need your help this one last time. Can you do that, or will it be a problem? If it is, then let me know so we can figure something else out.”
“That’s what you should’ve done in the first place,” Tahlia snapped. “Danielle had nine months to prepare for that baby.”
“How, Tah? She isn’t working right now.”
