3. The Birthday, Beau

One week later

Sea Springs, Texas

The smell of birthday pancakes quickened my steps as I trotted down from my third-floor bedroom to the kitchen on the first floor. Even in the early morning hours and dimly lit spiral stairwell, I deftly managed the steps two at a time, my stomach leading the way.

I could hear my grandmother grumbling quietly. She didn't sound happy. She never did anymore. The small group of local business owners fighting to stop the new resort's expansion were running out of time and money to keep the fight alive. It was all everyone talked about these days.

My hunger had me jumping the final three steps to land on the peeling tile of the kitchen floor. My booted feet lithely pivoted toward the stovetop where the delicious scent guided me. My mom was there, making her special pancake recipe that only came out two times a year. On my birthday and on Christmas morning. Both times presents were included. As far as I was concerned, especially this morning, the pancakes mattered the most.

"Happy Birthday," my nana said from her regular spot at the old oak table, pausing with the coffee cup at her lips. The happy tone and relaxed brow conflicted with the permanent frown etched on her face since we first arrived.

I gave a small smile and nodded to acknowledge her greeting. Glad to see her life's drink heading to her lips. Both my grandparents loved coffee, kept a pot hot all day long.

"Happy birthday," my mom said cheerfully, expertly flipping a pancake in the pan. Based on the solid stack plated just to the side of the stovetop, she'd been at it for a while. She had skill. Each pancake was the same size, perfectly round, and looked like an advertisement for IHOP. So good in fact, I swiped one off the top.

"Hey," my mom teased and swatted the spatula at my hand. I was quicker, even with the heat making it hard to handle. I tossed it from hand to hand, looking for the bottle of honey—my preferred choice in toppings.

I'd missed the plate, silverware, and glass of chocolate milk sitting on the table, directly across from my grandmother. The honey was right there waiting with the rest.

It didn't take long for me to roll the pancake and squirt a generous portion of honey over the top before eating it like a burrito.

"Mmm, Mom…" I said with my mouth still full. "Really good."

"You look more like you're goin' on twenty rather than fifteen," my nana teased.

"I'm too skinny," I said before stuffing the last of the pancake into my mouth and reaching for the chocolate milk. My mom placed the rest in front of me. Probably not all for me, but I felt like I could make a strong play at finishing the plate off by myself.

"It's not due to how much you eat," my paw said, coming in through the kitchen entrance door, making a beeline to the coffeepot. "Your mom's gonna go broke feedin' you."

I didn't pay them any attention as I scooted my seat over to make room for my mom to sit beside me. This was the working hub for the B&B. Two meals a day, seven days a week, prepared for the guests in this small, outdated galley-style kitchen.

My mom didn't sit. Instead, she laid her hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing before sliding her fingers into my hair. "You need a haircut."

Yeah, I'd needed a haircut months ago, but I liked the growing-out look. Not short, but not long. I didn't worry about the style. With the slight wave in my hair, I only had to swipe the strands off my face and they stayed away.

"Not 'til school starts," I said with a knife for the butter in one hand and the bottle of honey in the other.

My devious mom was on her game, showing her ninja skills. She occupied me with food to then surprise me with a small, newspaper-wrapped gift over the shoulder. I was torn but ultimately decided to take a good hearty bite before taking the gift. I could chew as I opened the wrapping.

"Beau, you can barely keep the bite in your mouth," my mom chided. But based on her own rules, she couldn't get mad at me today. It was my birthday. I gave in and nodded because she wasn't wrong and picked up the milk to wash it down.

My gaze stayed fixed on the present. Money was tight for us. My father was stalling on paying child support and giving my mom her portion of the sale of the house. He hadn't helped pay for anything since she filed for divorce months ago.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, my actions in complete contradiction. I rubbed my hands with a cloth napkin and reached for the gift.

"Of course. It's your birthday," my mom said cheerfully. She took the seat next to me, watching as I opened the present. It only took a good tug to rip the paper free to see a Nokia telephone box inside.

A cell phone. My gaze shot up at my mom. This had always been a hard no in the past. All my friends had phones, but I was never allowed.

"No way," I said, not wasting any more time with the gift wrap as I tore into the box.

"Calm down," my mom teased. She was happy, grinning broadly at my surprise.

"Can we afford this?" I asked, pulling out the blue phone, making easy work of the plastic case that kept it safe. The instruction manual fell onto the table beside my plate.

"Your plan has six hundred talking minutes and a hundred text messages a month for forty dollars," she started to explain, but I interrupted her.

"I'll pay for it." I immediately saw the holes in my suggestion. Since we were staying at my grandparents' bed-and-breakfast close to the bay, there were no jobs to be had within walking distance. The big business resort was apparently booming, giving a lot of locals the employment they needed. If I even considered getting a job there, my grandparents might never speak to me again. "I mean when I find a job."

"It's fine," my mom said and moved a pancake off the stack to her plate. "Just make an effort to stay under your minutes." Her gaze came back to me. She reached over to pat my thigh, smiling. "You deserve it. You've been through a lot."

I reached for the charger, lifting from my seat to plug it into an outlet.

"Paw and I got you somethin' too," my grandmother said, getting to her feet before edging around the table.

"It's all right, Nana," I said. "I get what's goin' on around here."

She smiled again at me, which was weirder than the first time. Two smiles in one day after a week of pure scowling. Maybe I needed to have birthdays more often.

"It's not what I wish we could give you…" Paw said, pushing open the back door. The humidity hit first, then the warmth. From my angle, I couldn't see what they tried to share.

I stood and craned my neck to see a ten-speed bicycle with a small red bow on the handlebars.

"No way," I said and stood frozen for several long seconds before I darted forward. All I'd heard for months was how hard things were for us financially, so I never expected any of this.

Now I had a way to get places. I started past my grandmother.

"Hey there, mister. Just because you're as tall as my house doesn't mean the rules have changed." I'd spent many summers right here in this house over my life. The only rule I had to adhere to was every time I passed my grandmother, I was required to hug her. It was something special we shared. Her small, short frame was becoming more difficult to give a proper side hug to, but we managed.

Paw stood close to the door with his fist sticking out. I gave him a bump as I darted outside.

"Happy birthday, Beau." Chae, who lived next door and helped with breakfast and house cleaning services, chimed from the bottom step. Due to Chae's proximity, we'd been friends for as long as I could remember, but times had changed the closeness. Chae was seventeen, starting her senior year at the new high school where my mom was now vice principal.

This particular age gap meant she could do things I couldn't. It made a real friendship difficult.

"Are these your new wheels?" she asked, coming up the steps as I went down.

"Yeah, Nana and Paw just gave it to me," I said, hiking a leg over the seat. My mind went straight to the mechanics. I needed to adjust the seat, and the pedals needed to be replaced, the chain might have some rust…

"He's not listenin' to us anymore, is he?" Chae asked, grinning down at me.

My mom was standing on the small porch, my grandparents behind them. No, I hadn't been paying attention. I was thinking about where the best junkyards were in town until I made my first paycheck.

"I'm leaving for work," Mom said, taking each step down toward me. "What're you doing today?"

"I gotta mow for Paw—"

Nana interrupted me. "We'll put that off until tomorrow."

Since all my work was free labor, that sounded pretty good.

"Then meet me at The Pizza Box tonight at five thirty," my mom said. "We'll all have dinner."

"Sounds good. Thank you for this mornin'," I said again. This was already shaping into a great birthday.

"It's not over yet. Have a good day," she said, and bent to kiss me on the cheek.