THIRTEEN NADIA

T HIRTEEN

N ADIA

Nadia rolled onto her side and stared at the empty space next to her. The girls slept with her off and on, but last night she'd wanted to be alone. It was Rafe's birthday. The first of many to come without him, and it would be a day of mourning, remembering, and crying. Not a day had passed since his death when she hadn't cried. There was always something to bring on the emotion, and it was usually something as trivial as a sock on the closet floor that he'd left there the morning of the marathon, or the folded pile of his clothes on top of the dryer. This morning it was because of his birthday and the fact that his pillow no longer smelled like him. In fact, very little did, unless she opened his bottle of cologne and inhaled. His scent had long since dissipated from their bedroom.

Over the past few months, she'd waited for life to return to normal like everyone told her it would. She'd taken a leave of absence from work and had barely made the girls go to school. If they didn't want to, she didn't force it. On those days, they stayed huddled in their house, on the couch under a blanket, watching movies. She knew she needed to be a stronger parent and force her children to go to school, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. If she wasn't going to work because of how she felt, why should the girls be subjected to the same thing.

Nadia brought Rafe's pillow to her face and screamed into it. She let the anger flow. Her sounds were muffled by the place her husband used to lay his head at night. Life was unfair, and she didn't know if she would survive the pain she felt in her chest. Nothing would ever be the same, no matter how hard she tried.

If she wanted life to get back to normal, she would need to try . Nadia would have to put in the effort to be the mother the girls had had before and deserved. She removed the pillow and then hugged it before setting it back in its place. She got out of bed and made her way down the hall, only to find the girls' rooms empty. When she got to the staircase, she heard them giggling downstairs.

Nadia sat down on the top step and rested her head against the newel post. She listened to their laughter. It had been months since she'd heard them laugh, and she found herself smiling. They needed her to be a better mother, or none of them would endure the days and months ahead.

She took the stairs slowly, so as to not interrupt whatever Gemma and Lynnea were doing with her mom. Nadia paused in the doorway to the kitchen and set her hand on the wall to steady herself. They were making a birthday cake, even though their dad wouldn't be there to eat it. With a deep inhale and a fake smile, she rounded the corner and greeted her girls.

"Mommy!" Lynnea squealed and got down from the chair, covered in flour. Nadia scooped her up, not caring about her child's dirty hands. "We're making Daddy's birthday cake."

"I see that." She set Lynnea down and went over to Gemma, rubbing her hand down her hair. "Good morning, Gemma."

"Morning." Gemma knelt on the chair but didn't look too engaged in the cake making. Nadia kissed the top of her hair and inhaled the clean coconut scent.

"Morning, Mom."

"Hi, sweetie."

Lorraine Bolton had all but moved in with Nadia and the girls, and when she wasn't here, Sienna was. Both had put their lives on hold to be there for Nadia. She was grateful, and part of her wanted them to leave her alone, but if they did that, she had no idea where she would be.

The last thing she wanted to do was make Rafe a cake. She had no idea how the day would go, but it seemed pointless to celebrate. What were they going to do, sit around and sing "Happy Birthday" to him as if he sat at the head of the table?

Still, she went to the pantry and took her apron off the hook and slipped the strap over her head. As she walked back to the makeshift baking station, she tied the back. She would try and be present for the girls on this day because it was important to them.

"What can I do to help?" It took great effort to ask when all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch their wedding video on repeat. She was incredibly thankful she'd insisted on having a videographer at their wedding. When she wanted to hear him say "I love you," all she had to do was turn it on.

"The batter is almost done," Lorraine said. "How about you start on the frosting? I put a couple of bags of powdered sugar in the pantry, and the softened butter is on the table. I told the girls they could pick the colors."

Nadia's attempt at a smile fell short. Her mother saw and offered her a kind one in return. She was thankful her mom didn't coat her with words of sympathy like I know what you're going through or It's going to get easier . Neither was true. Lorraine had lost her parents, but that's expected when people age. And nothing was going to get easier. Nadia was alone and raising two small children without the help of her partner. She'd rather be divorced than have to deal with life this way.

Over the years, Nadia and the girls had made a million cakes. Lorraine had taught her how to make them from scratch. "They always taste better," she would tell Nadia and Sienna. Frosting, too, would always be homemade, and in vibrant colors and flavors. None of the store-bought stuff. Besides, those containers you bought in the store were never enough to fully cover a cake or cupcakes and were just a waste of money.

Gemma came over to help her mom. She poured milk after Nadia measured, and she slowly moved the mixer around while the ingredients bound together.

"What colors are we doing for Daddy's cake?" The words barely came out without her choking on them.

"Blue and red," Gemma said.

Nadia nodded. "He also liked green."

Rafe was a die-hard Boston sports fan, and he always wore whatever team gear he had during the season.

"How about we do a little bit of color for each team Daddy loved?" Nadia asked Gemma. "This way we get them all in there."

Gemma nodded and wiped at her eyes. She tried to quiet her sob with a cough, but to no avail. Nadia pulled her oldest into her side and held her.

"It's okay to cry," she told her. "We all miss him."

"I just want him back," she said into her mother's side. "He was going to take me to the daddy-daughter dance."

Nadia had forgotten about the dance. It had come and gone, and she'd paid it no mind. Her father or Reuben would've taken Gemma, or even Otto or Lars. She could've easily called Kiran to take her. There were plenty of men in Gemma's life who would've stepped up and filled Rafe's space—not his shoes, because no one would ever be able to do that—but they'd be there if Gemma or Lynnea needed a male figure for anything.

"Next year," Nadia told her as she looked into her eyes. "Uncle Reuben or Uncle Lars, or one of your grandpas, can take you. You won't miss it again." She kissed the tip of her nose and turned her attention back to the frosting, setting out a bowl for each color with a heaping spoonful of frosting.

"Do you want to do the coloring?" she asked Gemma, who shook her head. "Okay, I'll do it, and you mix so we get the right color."

"Do you think Daddy will see his cake in heaven?"

"Yeah, baby girl, he will."

Nadia dropped blue food coloring into one of the bowls and handed it to Gemma with a spoon. She held it while Gemma mixed the coloring into the white concoction.

"It's not dark enough."

"We can fix that." With a few more drops of blue food coloring and some more stirring, the frosting was almost the right color. Nothing would ever be perfect in Nadia's mind. After blue, they did red, green, and gold. All New England team colors. Lynnea sat in front of the oven, with the oven light on, and watched the batter rise to form a cake. If this made her happy and kept her thumb out of her mouth, then Nadia would leave her alone.

Gemma found the piping bags and brought them to the table. She and Nadia filled each one with frosting and then made another batch, "just in case," according to Gemma, who promptly took a spoonful and stuck it in her mouth. She smiled up at her mom, a toothy grin that Nadia hadn't seen in months. Nadia put a dollop of frosting on Gemma's nose and delighted in her laughter. As sad as the day was, hearing her daughter giggle made her heart swell.

"Can I have some?" Lynnea left her perch in front of the oven and came over to her mom and sister. Nadia gave her a spoonful of frosting and put a dollop of it on her nose as well. Another laugh and another pang in Nadia's heart. Happiness, sorrow, and regret. She longed for Rafe to be with them and hated that he and the girls were missing out on so much of each other.

After the cake had finished baking and cooled, the girls frosted it in the assorted colors while Nadia and Lorraine sat back. The girls were messy and having fun. Gemma bossed her little sister around, but that was to be expected.

"You used to do the same thing to Reuben, and Sienna would tell you both what to do."

"She still does," Nadia quipped. Her sister wasn't there to defend herself. Not like there was much she could say. Sienna had always been the leader of the pack. The take-charge type of person. She was the reason Rafe's funeral had gone off without any issues, and why Nadia had had a proper goodbye. Sienna had demanded it. Nadia had never been more appreciative of her sister than she had been during that time.

"We're all done, Mommy," Gemma said as she and Lynnea slid out of their chairs. Nadia approached the breakfast table with an open mind. As soon as she saw Rafe's birthday cake, a cake she'd had zero intention of making, her heart filled with pride, joy, and an insurmountable love for her daughters. Before her, the small sheet cake had been decorated in squares, each one a distinct color representing Rafe. The girls had done an impeccable job, for their age, at creating the perfect cake.

"Wow, this is beautiful."

"Now you just have to add the words, Mommy," Lynnea said. She pointed to each square. "This one is for baseball." She went on to each one, showing Nadia which team went where, along with basketball, football, and hockey.

"Girls, this cake is perfect," Lorraine said when Nadia couldn't find her voice. "Your dad is going to love it. Let's clear the space so your mom can add the words."

The girls moved quickly. Gemma cleaned her chair off, and then held it for Nadia to sit.

"Here you go, Mommy," Gemma said as she handed Nadia the first piping bag. Nadia cleared her throat and pushed the thoughts of Rafe to the back of her mind. She needed to do this for her children, to make them happy, despite the pain it caused her. If she had her way, she'd still be in bed.

Nadia decorated the edges of the cake and then wrote "Happy Birthday" in the middle. She sat back and studied her work. Years ago, on a whim, she and her friend Hazel had taken a cake-decorating class because they were tired of paying bakery prices. It had panned out for any home project and caused anxiety anytime the school needed something. Everyone always assumed Nadia and Hazel would do it for free. Of course, it didn't help that they never spoke up about wanting to be compensated for their talents.

"Wow!" Lynnea exclaimed. "It's so beautiful."

"Daddy would love his cake," Gemma said as she clapped and hugged her mom.

"He would," Nadia agreed. The question at the forefront of her mind was, What next? Did they add candles? Sing "Happy Birthday"? Celebrate as if he were there?

"Okay, girls, run upstairs and change. I'll box this up," Lorraine said. As soon as their thundering footsteps reached the landing upstairs, Nadia gripped her mother's arm as she reached for the cake.

"What's going on?"

"The girls want to go to the cemetery and celebrate. I know you probably don't want to, but they do, and it's important to them," Lorraine said pointedly. Nadia opened her mouth to say something but then shut it. "Go get dressed," Lorraine told her daughter. "We're leaving in ten minutes."

Lorraine packed the cake into a box and set a bag on top of it. If Nadia had to guess, it was paper plates. They were going to have a celebration whether she wanted to or not.

Slowly, she made her way upstairs and paused at the bathroom, where the girls were. She listened to them talking about how Daddy would love his cake and how he'd see them from heaven when they were at the cemetery. Nadia had no choice.

In her closet, with her back to Rafe's clothes, she chose his favorite dress and cried every second it took for her to put it on. She went without makeup and ran a brush through her hair before slipping a hair tie around it to keep it out of her face. She slipped into a pair of sandals and, on her way out of her room, paused. The silver picture frame she kept on her nightstand that held a photo of Rafe danced in the sunlight. Nadia picked it up and ran her fingers over the glass cover, tracing the outline of his face. "God, I miss you," she said to his image. Instead of putting it down, she held it to her chest and carried it with her.

Half Rafe's remains were at the cemetery, in a niche of a columbarium. The other half were at home, on Nadia's dresser, in a steel gray marble box. At any given time, she could open it and remove his ashes, but she had yet to do that. She figured eventually, they would find a place to spread his ashes, but until then, the box sat there.

When they arrived, Lorraine set a blanket out near Rafe's niche and carefully unboxed the cake. Gemma and Lynnea sat down, while Nadia placed a bouquet of roses in the metal vase adhered to the columbarium. As she looked around at the other flowers, she saw notes taped to the front of some and wondered if writing a letter to her husband would be therapeutic. But then, she wouldn't want a stranger to read her thoughts.

Nadia hesitated when she turned toward her mom and daughters. "Sit between the girls," Lorraine told her. Nadia did before her mother caused a scene.

In the center of the cake, underneath "Happy Birthday," Lorraine placed a single candle. Is it to mark Rafe's first birthday in heaven? Nadia wondered.

"Okay," Lorraine said as she sat back on her heels. She began singing, and the rest of them joined in. They sang softly, saying either "Daddy" or "Rafe" when the song prompted. By the time they'd finished, everyone had tears on their cheeks.

Lorraine kept the celebration going, despite the somber mood, and cut into the cake. She handed a piece to Gemma, Lynnea, and then Nadia before taking her own. They each took a forkful and savored the homemade cake.

"This is yummy, Grandma," Gemma said with a mouthful of cake, and also a very colorful mouth thanks to the frosting. Nadia couldn't help but smile. She didn't want to be there but was thankful her mother had pushed her to be.

"This is a really great cake, Mom."

"And me," Lynnea said. "I helped."

"You did, and it's perfect," Nadia said.

"It really is, if I do say so myself." Lorraine patted herself on the back, and everyone laughed.

"Can I say something to Daddy?" Gemma asked.

Nadia's breath caught in her throat as she nodded. "Of course."

Gemma stood and looked at Rafe's niche. "Hi, Daddy." As soon as she started, Nadia couldn't hold back her emotions. "I'm sorry you're not here for your birthday. We made you the bestest cake, though, and I hope you can see it from heaven. I miss you so much." Gemma choked on her words. Nadia began to stand, but Lorraine set a hand on her and shook her head slightly.

"The girls need this. Let her do it."

All Nadia wanted to do was comfort her children. To take their pain away. She nodded and bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep her emotions in check.

"Happy birthday, Daddy," Gemma continued. "I love you." She kissed her fingers and set them to the glass.

Lynnea went next, and it took everything in Nadia to not stand and pull her youngest into her arms and run away. She'd failed as a mother when she couldn't protect them from this shattering heartbreak. She wished this on no one.

Lynnea's words were the same as Gemma's, only quieter. She stretched on her tiptoes to put her fingers to the glass, and then sat down to finish her cake. Children were resilient. Adults, not so much. Nadia's heart was in her throat, burning with anger, resentment, and longing.

They stayed for an hour and then packed up. Lorraine took the girls to the car, while Nadia stayed back. She needed a moment. Once they were out of sight, she traced Rafe's name with her fingertips.

"Today, like every day since you left us, has been unfathomable. Time doesn't heal wounds," she said out loud. "My wounds are gaping. My heart and soul fractured." Nadia took a deep breath. "You're somewhere, while we're here, trying to survive. Trying to figure out how we live without you being the constant in our lives. Nothing is the same and never will be. My love for you is immeasurable, Rafe Karlsson. Happy birthday, my love."

Nadia stepped back and turned, only to find a woman holding a bouquet, staring at her. She knew, without confirmation, who this woman was.

"Your husband saved me." The woman said the words slowly. "I know that me saying those words won't mean anything to you, at least not today, or even next year. I don't pretend to understand the sacrifice your family has made for mine. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you and your children."

At one point, Nadia had so many things to say to the woman before her, but words failed her. This woman lived with survivor's guilt, which was probably enough to cripple her being.

"Are those for Rafe?" Nadia asked of the flowers.

"They are. I got his birthday from his obituary. I hope this is okay."

She nodded. "Rafe would like that you visited him."

Nadia turned and walked away. When she came to the end of the column, she turned back and saw the woman staring at Rafe's niche. "I hope you're doing something magnificent with your life. Rafe would want that."

"I will," she said. "To honor him for what he's done for me."

Nadia smiled and walked away.