11. Fourteen Candles

Fourteen Candles

The next morning, Hadley was woken by the sun pouring through the window her head was pressed against. She must have fallen asleep reading Romeo and Juliet. She scooted to a sitting position, rubbed her eyes, and reached her arms toward opposite walls as she rotated her core slightly back and forth. She did her best to stretch out the kinks, after a cramped but full night of sleep. Making quick work of cleaning up her space, she decided to head downstairs for a bowl of cereal. She almost forgot today was her birthday until she noticed a gift bag, a wrapped box, and a card sitting on the kitchen table. Hadley stopped in her tracks when she noticed it, and glanced up to see her dad standing there with a mug in his hands. He leaned against the counter and looked right at her with a sad smile on his face. "Happy birthday, Had."

"I… um, I didn't think you'd remember," Hadley stuttered.

"I remembered." Her father sighed through a clenched jaw.

"Right, of course. I didn't mean to make it sound like you'd forget, dad. I just meant…" Hadley paused. She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to anger her father, but she was being honest when she assumed he'd forget. He seemed to accept her pause for what it was.

"I know. Listen… I know this is your first birthday without your mom and well…" his eyes fell shamefully to the floor. He knew how much he had been failing his daughter but wasn't sure how to pull himself out of the hole he fell into. He didn't know what to say or do next. If Hadley's mother was alive there would've been pancakes on the table, balloons tied to the chair, music in the background, and pure joy in the air. Today the air felt stale. "Anyway, sit. Let's check these gifts out."

Hadley cautiously walked to the table and sat down. She watched her father take a sip of coffee and simultaneously suppress a hiccup. She looked curiously behind him and noticed the coffee pot seemed untouched. He either filled his mug and promptly cleaned the pot, yeah right, or he wasn't drinking coffee. She returned her eyes to her father and gave him an uneasy smile before she looked at the gifts in front of her. She gasped. "This…w-wait, this is mom's handwriting." Her statement came out as a whisper as she picked up the envelope and held it between her hands. She stared at it for what felt like eternity. She looked up at her dad who nodded in her direction. He took a sip of his coffee but even though the mug covered his face Hadley swore she saw a mist in his eyes.

She slowly opened the envelope to find a Hallmark card inside. The front of the card had a floral bouquet and read Gathered these wishes especially for you… The sentiment continued inside, to the right of the fold. …for happiness, good times, and dreams that come true. Hadley hadn't noticed the printed words, though, because as soon as she opened the card her eyes landed on beautifully swoopy cursive handwriting.

Dear Haddie,

I can't believe you are 14 now! I am sorry I can't scoop you into the biggest hug and help you celebrate. I hope you know how much you mean to me. You will always be the most cherished part of my life and my greatest accomplishment. I know how hard this past year must have been for you. I hope you are finding ways to keep happy. Please don't be sad over me. Look around, my pretty girl. Wherever you go, I go. I will live on in your heart forever. Please remember to smile. Here is one last gift from me, my sweetheart. I love you completely. Happy Birthday.

Love, Mom

P.S. take care of your dad for me.

Hadley read the card over and over as a few tears gently trickled down her cheeks. Her pointer finger brushed gently over the ink, wishing for something, anything, that would bring her mom back. She finally set it down as carefully as she would a glass egg. She shook her head at the last part of her mom's note. If only you knew, Mom. She looked up at her father, who was pulling out the chair to sit down across from her. He took the cream-colored box patterned with orange and brown flowers and pushed it across the table to her. "I promised I would give it to you today."

Hadley stared. "Should I open it?" Hadley was suddenly very nervous. This is the last gift from her mom. Ever. She felt her heart race and her stomach flip. She wasn't sure if she should open it or leave it preserved for a while longer.

"Of course… that's what gifts are for. You know your mom, Had. Always thinking ahead." His voice cracked slightly. Hadley nodded. She gently opened the lid and parted the white tissue paper which revealed her mom's green and teal patterned dress. Hadley's favorite. She pulled it from the box, bringing the material up to her face. She took a deep breath in, unraveling into the fading scent of her mother. This gift is one she would cherish forever. She couldn't wait until she grew into her body enough to be able to wear it.

"I loved when Mom wore this dress," She sighed. "I always used to try it on and walk around the house pretending to be her. It used to crack Mom up, probably because of how much this dress drowned me. She used to tell me to slow down and that one day I'll be all grown up and the dress would fit then. I wanted that day to come so badly because I just wanted to be like her. She was so beautiful."

"You're the ivory copy of her, Hads."

Hadley looked up from the dress, her eyes meeting her father's. She couldn't remember the last time she opened up to him let alone the last time he said something soft hearted. She was used to harsher words - if any at all. "I don't know about that, Dad," she smiled softly. "I'm not sure I'll ever be that pretty."

"She stole my breath, that's for sure. The most loving woman I've ever met. I'm actually not sure why she put up with me sometimes." He let out a low-spirited chuckle. Hadley smiled at her father, not wanting to comment on his admission. "Anyway," he shook his head and looked back at Hadley. "This one's from me." He pushed the gift bag across the table and told her to open it.

Hadley pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, setting it delicately on the table. She saw something shiny inside and as she lifted it out, she was surprised by what she held. It was a carved alabaster horse figurine that stood maybe 3 inches tall. The translucent white horse felt smooth against her fingers and looked to her a bit like Snow White. "I love it, dad, really," she said with a genuine smile.

"I know I haven't been the parent you're used to having, but I do notice when you're gone. Mostly, anyway." He hid his shame behind another long sip from his mug. Hadley tensed up immediately. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. This was the moment her dad snapped. "Dad –"

"I just mean I know you've been hangin' out at Wellington Farm." Hadley let out a shaky breath, still waiting for the shoe to drop. "I saw you riding a white horse on my way home from work one day. I wasn't sure it was you, actually, but the next day I saw you again."

"Oh," Hadley shifted her eyes around the room, not sure where to look. "Yeah, that's Snow White. She's actually a light gray," she said dumbly.

Her father nodded at her but didn't press her to share any details. "I didn't know what to get ya and then I saw this at a store in town." He was pointing at the figurine in Hadley's hand.

"It's really neat, dad." She set the gift down on the table and started to push her seat back to stand up and hug him. Before she stood, her dad continued talking.

"Hey, there's something else in that bag for ya."

"Oh, whoops! I didn't notice. This was more than enough already…" He waved his daughter off, motioning her to check inside. Hadley peered into the bag and sure enough she spotted a photograph that was leaning against the side of the bag. How had she not noticed? She gingerly lifted out the faded black and white polaroid. She looked closely at the teenager standing next to a beautiful spotted horse. "Is this Mom?"

"Yeah, when she was sixteen. That's the year we met." Leaning back in his seat, he stretched his arms out before continuing. "She grew up in Montana down the road from a riding arena. Her uncle worked there in the stables and so she spent most of her summers on the ring."

"She never talked about horses…" Hadley desperately searched her brain for any memory of horses.

"Nah, she wouldn't have. She had moved on from that part of her life." Hadley watched as her father picked up his mug before noticing it was empty and setting it back down. She saw his eyes bounce to the bar cart then to Hadley then back down at the table. "I, uh, I think once we got married and moved up here, life changed. We got married young, made new friends, made you. And, well, horses never really fit in." Hadley nodded. There were a million questions swirling in her brain, but no words came out. She wondered why her mom never visited Dorothy's farm. Maybe it was too hard for her. Hadley stared at the photo when her father suddenly cleared his throat and pushed his chair back so he could stand up.

Feeling the shift in energy, Hadley also stood up. "Thanks again, dad. I love my gifts." She debated approaching him for a hug, but he was standing at the bar cart adding whiskey to his mug – probably what he was drinking the whole time. He kept his back to her while he waved halfheartedly in the air. Hadley quietly grabbed her gifts, careful to not mess anything up, and carried them to her room.

Once upstairs, she set the carved alabaster horse on her dresser. She slid the box with the dress under her bed, anxious for the day it would fit. She then climbed on top of her bed, old photo in hand. She spent the next twenty minutes mesmerized. She decided her mom definitely skipped over the awkward teen years entirely. She was less curvaceous in her youthful body, but her beauty was almost unbelievable. Hadley stood up and walked to her dresser. She rested the photo carefully against her new figurine. It slid down a few times, but eventually she got the angle right for it to stay put. Stepping back, she admired the set up. She grabbed the book she started the day prior and retreated to her bay window. She sat for a few minutes against the panels daydreaming about her mom. She felt even more connected now that she knew her mom loved horses. She couldn't wait to get back to the farm to tell Snow White all about her birthday. Satisfied with her morning, she settled in and opened The Bluest Eye to the earmarked page.

She spent the rest of her birthday paging slowly through the devastating novel. I guess things could be worse. She was thankful her father had never laid a hand on her, even if his words did pack a powerful punch. She couldn't imagine going through what Pecola had. She smiled thinking about this morning's conversation with her dad. Maybe he was turning a corner and would be nicer now that she was getting older. Maybe.