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Feb 11, 2021 21:00:44 GMT -6
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“Andrea, come here please!”
Glancing over her shoulder toward her doorway, she set her dolls down and pushed herself to her feet. “Coming momma!”
With a little giggle, Andrea skipped to her door, reaching up on her tippy toes to grasp the doorknob. Today was her birthday. She was four years old now, and her mother had made her a birthday cake. She had not been allowed downstairs while everything was being set up, so she had retired to her bedroom to have a birthday themed tea party with her dollies.
With her hair bouncing around behind her, black as midnight and only long enough to touch her small shoulders, she took to the stairwell, hopping down them one at a time. Her Birthday dress bounced with her, pink frills and lace supported by a little petticoat underneath. Half way down, she paused, small orange eyes widening. She had forgotten her tiara! The child turned and made a mad dash back up to her room, where she dug around in her toy chest until it produced the little silver, plastic crown. With her outfit complete, she hurried back downstairs.
“Andrea, there you are... My, don’t we look royal?” Her mother greeted her in the kitchen, plain white apron dotted with strawberry frosting and flour. The little girls eyes darted around excitedly, looking for any signs of presents or cake. She spotted it, across the kitchen on the counter, and padded over quickly. “Where are your shoes, dear? I thought I told you not to wander around barefoot.” Clicking her tongue, her mother turned and wandered out into the front entryway to find her daughter a pair of shoes. Andrea stood where she was, perched on little green toes, and attempted to catch a peek of her cake from over the edge of the counter.
She was still too small! Little pudgy green fingers gripped the ceramic tile as she strained and attempted to pull herself up to look. “Ah-ah! No peeking, young lady! I didn’t slave away all morning so you could ruin the surprise before the party even starts!” With a squeal of delight, her mother scooped her up into her arms, turning her away from the cake, and carried her into the living room. Shoes were slipped onto her feet along the way, before she was set back down on the couch. “Do you know how old you are today, sweetheart?”
“Yes momma, I’m four!” She held out four little fingers, grinning a gap-toothed smile at her mother. She knew her numbers almost as good as she knew her letters. She could spell her whole name without needing help anymore! “...Where is papa?” Her father had left for work hours ago, like usual, but he had promised to come home early for her party. She was practically giddy at the thought. Her mother quieted for a moment, her eyes taking of that far off look she got sometimes, before she smiled and stroked her daughters hair. “He’s on his way, love. Come now, lets get you ready for the party.” Taking her mothers hand, she followed her back upstairs like a good little girl, fighting the urge to pop her thumb in her mouth. Her momma said it was a nasty habit, and she got swatted on the hand if she was caught...
An hour later, with her hair fixed in tight little curls, Andrea squirmed her way back down the stairs, and headed for the front door. She had heard her fathers car pull into the driveway, and she already had a big goofey grin slapped on her little pudgy face. With her mother still upstairs fixing her own hair, Andrea was at the front door and reaching for the doorknob before anyone could stop her. Before she could tug it open with both hands, however, she remembered what her father had taught her.
She was never to open the front door unaccompanied. The world is a very dangerous place, he had told her, while she sat on his knee and looked through the pictures of a story book. Do not ever go outside without one of us with you, or someone will scoop you up and take you away someplace terrible.... and you will never see us ever again. Do you understand?.... The child dropped her hands from the doorknob and stepped away from it, orange eyes wide and frightened. She had almost forgotten! How stupid she was, having nearly gone and let the bad people in like that!
Bouncing on her feet impatiently, she watched as the knob slowly turned and the door opened. Her father stepped into the house, briefcase in one hand, the other busy loosening his bow-tie. He shut the door behind him, and Andrea rushed leaped forward to hug him around one leg. “Daddy! Daddy!” He patted her hair, taking care not to ruin her curls or knock the little tiara from her head. “Happy Birthday sweetheart! Give your old man a moment to get ready, okay?”
~~
Her mothers eyes blocked out her vision, held gently over her eyes. The little girl wiggled gleefully, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Are you ready, Andrea?” Her mothers thickly accented question earned a vigorous nod from the girl. “Okay, here we go!”
The hands were pulled away, and the world came into light. Before her sat her bad yard, the picnic table had been moved onto the patio, and was decorated in pink and white. Balloons of the same color scheme danced with a gentle wind, and the cake her mother had slaved over was sitting smack in the middle of the table. “Happy Birthday!” Her parents cheered.
She squealed and ran for the table, tripping over her own feet half way there. She was so excited, that even though she skinned one green knee, she got right back up and clambered onto the bench. Her cake was vanilla with strawberry frosting. Her mother had made pretty frosting roses in each corner, and had scrawled her name through the middle in beautiful Greek letters. Her eyes grew as big as saucers, and she marveled at it like it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Her parents stepped up beside her and her father lit the four candles that sat in each corner of the cake. “Do you know what you want to wish for, Andrea?” He asked, tucking his lighter back into his pocket. She nodded her head, curls bobbing, and locked her eyes on the little flames as her parents softly started to sing the birthday song to her. It wasn’t her favorite song, anyway... she much more preferred the songs her mother sang, to the songs her father had brought over with him from America.
Besides, she had a wish to make! Squeezing her eyes shut, the child concentrated as hard as she could. Her face twisted, little hands clasped together before her. As the song ended, she sucked in a deep breath and blew as hard as she could.
They clapped for her once all four flames had been snuffed out, and she turned and grinned. Her mother set about cutting the cake up, while she crawled into her fathers lap. “Do you wanna know what I wished for, daddy?” She asked, her little voice filled to the brim with excitement.
“Now now, you know wishes won’t come true if you tell them, Andrea. You have to keep it to yourself.” He answered back, grabbing both plates his wife handed him, one for their daughter, and one for himself. She nodded, her nose wrinkling, and she stared at her plate for a moment. Then, without warning, she turned and cupped her hand to his ear, whispering as only a child can.
“I wished for friends, daddy...”
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