“Emily’s Fifth Birthday”
&
“Alternative Medicine”
Copyright 2011
Kater Cheek
Smashwords Edition
Thank you for downloading this. I have two stories for you, both literary science fiction about people and the difficult life choices they make. Please enjoy.
EMILY’S FIFTH BIRTHDAY
By Kater Cheek
“My niece is turning five,” Rebecca said, expressing, she hoped, none of the horror she felt about that fact. She would have stopped it if she could, and was planning a strategy to keep her niece from turning six for a long time, but she couldn’t expose that to Colette. Colette wasn’t that sort of friend. “I’m taking the afternoon off to buy her a present.”
Rebecca met Colette at their favorite bistro where they ordered salads and made a sly contest of under-eating one another. Today the birthday party dampened her appetite completely, so that Rebecca just picked at her parsnip and carrot salad. She didn’t like it anyway. The raw vegetables tasted like nothing but vinaigrette.
Rebecca was thin, and petite, with a heart shaped face and light brown hair which she’d kept pale blonde for the past forty years of her life. She had arrested her age at twenty four, and planned to stay that young until she died.
She swept the tablecloth with her hand, sending wilted jacaranda petals and crumbs to the bricks below. Sparrows picked at the crumbs, fluttering off when waiters came by to clear dishes. The sun behind her made sweat pool under the linen of her dress.
“A birthday party, how exciting.” Colette fished in her purse for a pair of sunglasses. Colette looked no older than a teenager, but considering how well-bred she was, she could have taken many decades to get there. Rebecca would never know for sure; that was one of the questions you didn’t ask people. Colette’s hair was a sharp angular black, and her suits had been tailored to accent her anorexic frame.
“Where is she registered?”
“I'm not sure, I left the invitation at home,” Rebecca said. The invitation was crumpled in her purse. It wasn’t engraved, nor hand calligraphed, just a store-bought card from a pack of twelve, the pertinent details filled in with ballpoint. Those details would horrify Colette. “I was thinking of going to Mireille's.”
Colette nodded approvingly, which made Rebecca feel as though she had passed a test.
“We’re thinking of letting Tyler turn two next year, or maybe the year after, depending on whether or not Brad’s deal goes through and how busy I am at work,” Colette said. “It takes so long to schedule a good party, it almost seems that a year isn’t enough time.”
“It can be,” Rebecca said hesitantly, searching Colette’s face for clues that this was acceptable. She hated herself for wanting Colette’s approval. “We took four months to plan Brianna’s party. We would have liked more time, so we could get a better caterer, but Joseph had work issues that had to be scheduled around. We did manage to hire the Squiggles.”
The waiter came by with the check, and Colette handed him her credit card without looking at him. “Who are the Squiggles?”
“They’re a boy-band for three to five year olds. They’re very popular.”
Colette nodded. “Right. I think I’ve seen them on TV.”
“I miss her.” Rebecca looked down at her uneaten salad. She crumpled the linen napkin into a ball with her left hand. The reality of Brianna’s death still hit her hard at unexpected times. She took two breaths, counted to three on the exhale. It worked. She didn’t cry.
“It was a car accident?” Colette asked gently.
Rebecca nodded.
“Right, I remember now. The nanny fell asleep at the wheel. You should sue her,” Colette said. “I would, if it had been Tyler’s nanny.”
“It was an accident,” Rebecca said, wondering if she had the right opinion. She took a slow breath again, but the memories were burning away her resolve. “Anyway, she’s still in a wheelchair, so it wasn’t like she got off easy.”
“It doesn’t matter. She killed your child, she—“
“I’m not comfortable talking about this.”
Rebecca was surprised and a little ashamed at her own steel, and apparently Colette was as well, because Colette leaned back in her chair, disapproval writ large on her face.
“I’m sorry. I’d better go.” Rebecca dropped a generous tip on the table and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you later.”
***
She wandered among the jewels and taffeta and lace of Mireille’s designer dress and toy boutique, wincing when a mother and daughter cooed over a life-sized rocking horse unicorn. She tried to think of her niece, but in her mind Emily was still a baby, and only the crumpled invitation reminded her that Emily was even now larger than her own daughter had been. Rebecca thought that shopping would calm her, but the frilly pink princess land brought up more nostalgia than she could bear.
The last time they had been there was when Brianna picked out a tutu for her ballet recital. Brianna had spoken in French with her perfect Parisian accent, charming Mireille, the proprietress. It had made Rebecca feel both proud and jealous. Rebecca wished that she had been able to learn French when she was young enough to pick it up effortlessly.
Ballet, too, she had started too late. She wheedled her parents into letting her take lessons, but by age fourteen, most girls who were serious about dance had already been learning it for several decades, and at the rate her parents made her age, she could never catch up. Brianna had started ballet when she turned three. She could have been an amazing dancer. She worked hard, and after years of study, the only thing holding her back was her immature body. That was one of the reasons they decided to let her have another birthday.
It wasn’t a cheap birthday party in any way, not the entertainment, nor the flowers, nor the hotel, nor the giant teddy bears and bouquets of balloons that each child took home as a souvenir. The guests had been very generous too, purchasing almost all of the toys and clothing that Brianna had registered for. She even got a Yves St. Laurent formal gown, which was a nice addition to her wardrobe. The affair had cost easily as much as her own wedding. But then again, how often was a girl going to turn four?
They’d finally finished paying off the loan for the party a month before Brianna died.
Rebecca picked out a dress for Emily, matching pink patent leather shoes, and a rhinestone tiara. The saleslady wrapped it with intricate care, the bright silver box proclaiming to everyone who saw it how generous and tasteful Rebecca’s present was. That is, if anyone at the party had even heard of Mireille’s, which Rebecca doubted.
***
Emily’s party was held at a public park. Pink and purple balloons rose from either end of a vinyl covered picnic table. Rebecca set her present on the table with the others, then walked under a mulberry tree, her spike heels sinking into the dirt. She’d worn silk pants instead of the shorts that all the other adults wore, but it felt cool in the shade, so maybe she wouldn’t sweat and ruin the look. A group of adults sat under another tree, in a ring of folding lawn chairs, talking and drinking beer. Children squealed and chased each other on the grass, and scrambled over the log structures in the playground. She scanned the shrieking children for her niece. She thought she might greet Emily first, then collar Monica later.
“Becky Evans, right?” A woman approached, hand extended. She was a plump and graying matron whose tee shirt had the sequin appliqué of a cat on it. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Bensonville High?”
“I’m sorry, I hardly remember high school.” She smiled apologetically. “It was only four years of my life.”
“I’m Michelle. We were in Swing Choir together.”
“Michelle. Nice to see you again.” Rebecca recognized the woman, and wished she hadn’t, but now that she was stuck she decided to make the best of it. “You were at Monica and Danny’s wedding, weren’t you?”
Michelle nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. I saw you what was it, thirty some years ago?”
“Thirty two this June,” said Rebecca, who now remembered this woman far too clearly. “You had a baby, I remember. Is he here?”
“Yeah, he brought his daughter.” She pointed to a man pushing a little girl on a swing. “That’s him and his kids, Zach and Bella.”
“He’s grown up fast,” Rebecca said, then put her hand in front of her mouth, embarrassed at her rudeness.
Michelle nodded, smiling, as if she were proud to be the mother of an adult. “How about you? You have any kids?”
Rebecca gave her a bland smile. “Would you excuse me? I see my niece, I’d like to say hello to her.”
Emily wasn’t alone, she was with her mother, inspecting the presents on the table. Monica had ash colored hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a coral tee shirt and denim shorts a few sizes larger than what she wore in high school. She flashed Rebecca a smile, and pulled Emily down from the table. Emily whined, and as Rebecca got closer, she saw what the trouble was. The silver box from Mirelle’s had a heart shaped charm tied to the ribbon, and Emily was trying to get it off.
“You’re going to break it, Emily, let me at least untie it,” Monica was saying.
“But I wanna wear it now.”
“Look, Aunt Becky’s here. Why don’t you thank her for the present.” Monica pulled the present away from her daughter and set to loosening the ribbon.
“Hi Aunt Becky.” Emily had enormous blue eyes and a wedge shaped chunk missing from her bangs as though she’d found a pair of scissors left unattended. She looked so adorable that Rebecca thought her heart might break.
Emily hugged Rebecca, then jumped down off the picnic table. She jumped on it again, then off, then on. Monica didn’t seem to notice or care that her child was hopping around like a little animal. Brianna hadn’t been that way.