Lily bursts through the door like a little cannonball. Annie is right behind her, carrying a bulging white paper bag.
“Daddy!” she exclaims, hurling herself at me. I pick her up again. “Can I call you that, or do I need to call you Donor? Mommy tol’ me I had to say ‘donor,’ not ‘daddy,’ but now you’re here, so you’re a daddy, right?”
“You can call me whatever you like,” I say. My heart seems to have migrated to my throat, where it sits in a lump.
“Good.” She hugs my neck as if she’s known me forever.
Annie opens the bag and pulls out single-serve vanilla ice cream cups like I used to get in grade school. “We couldn’t find any ice cream in the cafeteria, but a nurse helped us raid the patient freezer.”
“Well, let’s get this party started!” Lauren says.
The women bustle around, cutting the cake and putting pieces on little pink plastic plates. It’s red velvet cake with vanilla icing.
“Lily, would you like to pass out the party gear?” Quinn asks. Lily scrambles out of my arms, takes a plastic bag markedParty Cityfrom Quinn, and hands out pointed hats and noisemakers as if it’s extremely important business.
“Lily, what’s the rule on birthday hats?” Quinn prompts.
“Everyone has to wear one,” Lily announces.
All of the women smile and gamely don little dunce hats printed with cakes and candles. I do, too, and so does Mac. “Is it just me, or do we all look like we just increased our intelligence?” I joke.
Everyone laughs.
“I have a princess crown for Grams,” Lily announces. Quinn pulls a rhinestone tiara from her purse and carefully places it on Miss Margaret’s head.
“We can’t have candles because of the oxygen, but we can sing ‘Happy Birthday,’” Quinn says. She hands Lily a plastic plate with a piece of cake and an ice cream cup on it, and whispers something in her ear.
Lily carefully carries it over to the bed and holds it up toward Miss Margaret. “Happy birthday to you...” she sings in an angelic little voice. Everyone joins in, and the song ends in a boisterous finale.
“Oh, how nice. How very, very nice!” Margaret says, accepting the cake from Lily. “This looks delicious.”
Cake and ice cream are handed out all around, along with paper cups of sparkling water. I stand against the wall and eat cake with a white plastic fork.
My eyes keep going to Quinn.She’s carrying my baby. It’s an unnerving, jarringly intimate thing to contemplate.
No wonder Jessica is upset. I toss my plate in the trash, wondering what on earth I can say or do to help her cope with the situation.
A woman in pink scrubs walks in. Her badge identifies her as a nurse’s aide. “It’s almost time for physical therapy, Mrs. Moore.”
“Oh, no!” Margaret says. “Can we do it later? I’ve got guests.”
“I’m sorry, but the therapist is nearly ready, and you’re her last patient of the day.”
“We promised we’d only be here an hour,” Quinn says. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”
“But you haven’t opened your presents!” exclaims Lily.
“I can do that later, dear,” Miss Margaret says. “It’ll extend the pleasure of the celebration.”
“I’ll be back with the therapist in a moment.” The aide leaves the room.
“Well, we’d better say our good-byes,” Quinn says.
Annie gathers up everyone’s plates and cups, then puts them in the trash. Mac picks up the hats, Sarah collects the extra supplies, and everyone files by Miss Margaret to kiss her cheek and tell her good-bye.
“Let’s leave the extra cake and hats at the nurses’ station,” Quinn suggests.
“Good idea,” Lauren says.
