Finishing off my birthday surprise were pink and gold streamers with paper butterflies attached, drifting down to match the pink-and-gold butterfly balloon arch over the birthday girl’s chair. The butterfly motif was in honor of our mom. She always used to tell us that if a little creepy crawly could one day become a beautiful butterfly, how much more amazing would we grow up to be? Ever since we lost her, we’ve marked every big day and special milestone with butterflies.
I smirked at her hanging jaw. “You didn’t seriously think all I planned for your eighteenth birthday was cheap takeout and store-bought cake, did you?”
“But... but...” She slowly walked in like she thought the streamers would detach and swarm her. “How much did all of this cost?”
I waved that away. “Don’t worry about how much it cost. I took a few extra shifts at the Grill. It’s all covered.”
Dora pursed her lips, eyes narrowing.
Oh gosh, she got that look from Mom too.
“Don’t even try it, Char. I know Café Palmetto’s crab cakes when I see them. Dip a napkin in water and suck on it, and you’ll walk away with a bill over a hundred. I know this must’ve set you back a crazy amount. Why did you do all of this?” she cried, upset leaking into her voice. “You know you didn’t have to.”
“Of course, I had to. You only graduate from high school and turn eighteen once. I wanted today to be perfect.” Grasping her shoulders, I steered her to her seat. “Just like it was then.”
She didn’t have to ask what I meant. Before she turned ten, Dora announced to our parents that she wanted to be a princess on her birthday. Not have a princess-themedparty, but to be an actual princess with a fancy gown, tiara, and a day of pampering. Being Mom and Dad, they went overboard granting the request.
On the day, they surprised her with a big, frilly pink gown and matching crown. They rented a horse-and-carriage that took us to the nicest restaurant in town, Café Palmetto, where Dora ate the fanciest stuff off the kid’s menu while giggling over glasses of wine—apple cider—while we all played up the bit.Can we get you anything else, Princess Dora? Would you like more wine, Princess Dora?
Years later, Dora still said that was her favorite birthday, and I tried my best to recreate it, but you wouldn’t believe how much they want for frilly teenage-size gowns and horse-drawn carriages these days. Still, the fancy dinner, crown, and non-alcoholic apple cider wine brought all the spirit memories of that great day.
“Do you like it?” I jumped up and down, clapping. “I moved you up to the adult menu this time,” I teased, “to celebrate you becoming a woman.”
She gave me a wobbly smile. “I love it, Char,” she whispered, easing down onto herthrone.“Thank you.”
I squealed. “Just wait. You are going to love me even more when I give you your present.”
“Present? No,” she cried. “You didn’t have to buy me a present too on top of all of this.”
Clicking my tongue, I rolled my eyes. “Will you stop saying ridiculous things? Of course I had to get you a birthday present. Start eating,” I said, rushing out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”
Ducking into the hall, I rooted around in my purse for the little gift box I popped in there earlier. I took it out, dropped her present inside, then rushed back in.
Adora was in the middle of filling her plate with crab cakes and ribs when I dropped the pink box in front of her. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
She did so. Popping the top off, she flipped over the box and her gift tumbled out.
She blinked. “Uh...? I don’t get it. These are your car keys.”
“Nope, they’re not.” I was grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “They’re your car keys. You’re going to need a car for your big move to Baltimore.”
The smile froze on Dora’s face. “But, if I have the car, how are you going to get around?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I can walk to work, take the bus, or catch a ride from Tiffany after a long shift. Truth is, most of my driving consisted of taking you to and from practice and your volunteer shifts at the hospital, so I don’t need—”
“You don’t need a car anymore because you made me your whole life!” She slammed the keys down, making me jump. “Dammit, Char!”
My eyes popped seeing hers fill. “Dora? D, what’s wrong? Why are you upset?”
“Why am I upset?” She goggled at me. “I’m upset becauseyouwere supposed to be the one driving off in your new car to your first-choice university. You were that one until you had to drop everything, give up your place at NYU, and come home to look after me.
“You spent the last four years scrimping and saving to send me to college, and now you’re going to spend another digging yourself out of debt—and you’ll do it without a car!”
“Debt?” I forced a laugh. “I’m not in—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “I know you hide the bills behind the mint chocolate chip cookies in the pantry. Just because I hate mint chocolate doesn’t mean I don’t have you figured out.” Her face crumpled. “Char, you had your own life and your own plans before... before,” she finished. “How do you think it makes me feel watching you give all that up for me?”
