Dahlia hides her smile behind her coffee mug. I’m not as graceful. I snort.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, leaning on the counter. “Both of you are turning three today?”
She nods so hard her curls bounce. “Yes. Bill is three.”
Dahlia looks at me in alarm. “She’s saying her L’s perfectly now.” Her face scrunches up as she tries not to cry. She fans her face. “I will not cry. I will not cry.”
Chloe could be right. Since Bill kept wandering into my shop in California with no owner in sight until I finally claimed him, we never knew his exact birthday. The vet guessed, and by that timeline, he’d be about three now.
Which means in Chloe logic, it’s destiny.
Dahlia kisses the top of her head. “Then we’ll celebrate both of you.”
Chloe’s grin could power Windy Harbor. She scoops Bill back into her arms and leans toward Dahlia.
“Mama,” she whispers dramatically, “Bill needs a hat.”
To Dahlia’s credit, she barely hesitates. She goes to get the craft basket and pulls out construction paper. This woman is impressively organized.
“Okay,” she says. “What color are we thinking?”
“Pink!” Chloe yells.
“Of course,” Dahlia says.
“You saw that coming, didn’t you?” I tease, and Dahlia laughs and waves several shades of pink paper.
When it’s time, we load everything into the car: cupcakes, presents, Bill in his birthday hat that keeps sliding over one eye, and a giddy Chloe. The drive to my land takes two minutes. I’ve sectioned off a portion of the back lawn just for today. It’s got the best shade, soft grass, and enough space for what I’m about to reveal.
When we pull up, Chloe spots the streamers, a banner,and the long tables, and she gasps dramatically. “Mama, LOOK!”
Dahlia laughs. “I’m looking, baby girl. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Pretty!” Chloe agrees.
But the best part is behind the fence. I open the gate and usher everyone in. The moment Chloe sees, she freezes.
The petting zoo.
Goats, bunnies, a couple of miniature sheep, two calm old ponies, and the happiest, roundest pig I’ve ever seen. Juju’s Papa Hector pulled a few strings and found the same farmers he’d gotten the chickens and Ralph the rooster from.
Ralph did not get an invite today. That bird would’ve chased every female guest under a table.
Chloe screams in overwhelmed joy and barrels toward a docile-looking fellow.
“SHEEP!!” she shouts, even though it’s clearly a goat.
The goat bleats. Chloe bleats back. I’m honestly impressed. The goat looks startled, like she’s just spoken his language.
The family arrives in waves, and Chloe is in heaven seeing all of her favorite people.
Dahlia’s mom and aunt meet everyone for the first time, and it’s fun to see Maren and Aunt Ginny chatting with my sister and grandmas.
Christian shows up an hour into the party, alone. He looks uncomfortable, but I’ve gotta say that I’m impressed that he’s shown his face around here. I thought he might insist on seeing Chloe in a neutral location, but he’s been decent about respecting Dahlia’s boundaries.
Dahlia and I walk over to him, and I shake his hand. “Hey, man. Glad you’re here.”
“Thanks.” He seems surprised by my kindness.
