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Chapter One: A Birthday
Abigail
*
“Happy Birthday!” my family exclaimed, rushing into my apartment, arms loaded with all the essentials for a party: pizza, beer, gifts, and cake. I can’t stand the taste of beer, but as it’s the only alcohol my mother tolerates, I was happy to accept a bottle from the six-pack in my dad’s hands. Because unlike most people, I do not look forward to my birthday. Nothing good ever comes of it. The day I turned five, my parents and I were in a car crash on the way to the zoo and I broke my leg. On my sixteenth birthday, the boy I had a crush on asked my best friend to the prom, and she said yes. And when my family barged into my apartment on the eve of my twenty-fifth birthday, my life was nowhere near where it should have been.
*
“What is this? I told you I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday.” I didn’t try to hide the irritation in my voice or on my face; they knew I didn’t want to celebrate. But apparently my frown wasn’t as menacing as I hoped.
*
“Yes, well, you can wallow in self-pity later tonight. Seriously, Abigail, did you think we were going to ignore your birthday?” Anna laughed as she put the cake in the fridge and grabbed a beer.
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“As the birthday girl, I thought you’d have some respect for my wishes.”
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“Since when have we respected your wishes?” Ashley demanded, encircling me in a tight hug.
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Too true, I thought.
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“I would’ve been happy to respect your wishes,” Derek shrugged, “they told me we were going to a movie.”
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“Haha, very funny, D.” I grimaced at my older sisters and younger brother in turn, but didn’t have much time to complain because my mother was heading towards me.
*
“We won’t stay long if you really don’t want us here, but we wanted to have dinner with you.” She kissed my cheek as she put a gift-wrapped box on my kitchen table. “After all, twenty-five years ago, I endured ten hours of excruciatingly painful labor so you could be standing here today. Don’t I deserve a little bit of time with you to commemorate that occasion?”
*
“Nothing like a guilt trip to kick off the party,” I groaned. Anna, Ashley, and Derek nodded in agreement and I knew I was defeated. “Alright, I give in. What kind of pizza did you bring?”
*
As we gathered around the table and everyone filled their plates with cheesy goodness, I couldn’t help comparing myself with my sisters. A bad habit to be sure, but it was second nature from growing up in their shadows. By Anna’s twenty-fifth birthday, she’d been married for three years and loved her job as a buyer for Macy’s almost as much as she loved her husband. Ashley had been married for two years and teaching for three, she’d already been voted teacher of the year at the high school where she taught math.
*
Me, on the other hand. Well, I graduated from college three years prior to that dreaded day with good grades and excellent references from my professors. I even created a substantial portfolio of articles I had written for the school’s newspaper. But a year of job searching proved to be fruitless. The only job I found even remotely related to journalism was in the Subscriptions Department of the mailroom at the Boston offices of Intuition Magazine. Sure, Subscriptions is a step up from sorting and delivering, but it doesn’t exactly get my creative juices flowing. My boss really liked me, or so she’d told me hundreds of times, but each piece I’d submitted to her was returned with a note stating, “Not Intuition material.”
*
“Okay, Abigail, blow out the candles and make a wish!” My mother placed the chocolate and cookie crumble ice cream cake in front of me, twenty-five candles blazing away. I looked into the flames, trying to remind myself of what was going well in my life. The job I hated didn’t pay a lot, but it paid enough that I was able to afford my car payments and rent a decent apartment. Okay, decent might be pushing it. My apartment was smaller than my freshman year dorm room. It barely held enough space for clothes and my mountains of books, let alone room to actually get dressed or complete other essential tasks, like sleeping. I wasn’t living with my parents, though, so I still considered moving into it the best decision I’d ever made. And my family, they were always there for me, even if sometimes I wanted them to leave me alone.
*
The only thing left to wish for was love. But I wasn’t that naïve. So I blew out the candles hoping only for a better year than the last. Mom sliced into the cake and handed me a plate.
*
“Do I get to open my presents now?” I asked, digging into my generous portion. The one good thing about birthdays, other than food and alcohol, is the presents.
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“Absolutely. Here, open ours first.” My father handed me a box and I ripped the paper off, revealing a state-of-the-art Single Serving Gourmet Coffee Maker.
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“Wow, thank you!” I pulled my face into an oversized grin. “This is fantastic, I’ve been wanting one of these for months.” I dug into the packaging and poured my eyes over the instruction manual.
*
“Oh good. I’m glad you like it. I thought it would save you some money, now you don’t have to go to Starbucks so often, and you won’t have to make a pot of coffee large enough for four when you’re the only one drinking it.” My mother’s smile showed how pleased she was with the gift and I decided I would use it every day.
*
“This one is from all three of us,” Ashley explained as she handed over the bag she had carried in. I pulled out the tissue paper and threw it on the floor, finding that the bag held three envelopes and a wrapped box. I reached for the box first; inside was a charming, hand-carved, wooden picture frame. Initials on the sides represented the four of us.
*
I ran my fingers over the wood and looked at the picture. It had been taken at Christmas. Our father had gotten all of us stockings with our initials sewn onto the toe. We were holding our stockings, with the toes clearly showing, and in addition to the four of us, Anna’s husband, Will, Ashley’s husband, Cain, and Derek’s fiancé, Samantha, smiled for the camera.
*
“It’s beautiful, guys, thank you.” Setting it on the table upright, I grabbed the cards next and read them to myself.
*
“B, you may be 25 now, but that doesn’t mean you’re an adult or anything. You’ll always be my baby sister. And I retain the right to belittle and berate you as much as possible. Love ya, mean it, N.”
*
“Abigail, Happy Birthday. Mine’s next month and I expect a jet ski. Thanks. Derek.”
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As I opened Ashley’s, a slip of paper fell out of the envelope and onto the table. I ignored it while reading her handwritten comments, “BB, I love you soooo much. Have the bestest birthday ever! Your favorite sister, S,” then eagerly picked up the sheet to see what other surprise she had in store for me.
*
“Isn’t that a riot?” Ashley laughed. “I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was cleaning out our attic. It was mixed in with some of my old high school things.”
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“What is it?” Anna asked as Derek grabbed it out of my hand.
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“25 Things I Want to Accomplish by Age 25 by Abigail Bronsen,” he read. Everyone cracked up, but I snatched the paper back from him, a deep blush spreading over my cheeks and neck.
*
“It was a project for English. We had to come up with a list, any list, and write an essay on why we included the items we did and why we left other things off. I think I was fifteen when I wrote this.”
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“What’s on it?” Derek asked, trying to steal it again.
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“Oh, just the usual fifteen-year old hopes and dreams. Marry Leonardo DiCaprio, own a Corvette, kill my younger brother, you get the idea.” I folded the paper and stuck it in my pocket, my mind wandering to the few items I had glimpsed, learn how to surf, learn a foreign language, buy a house. I tried to clear my head and pay attention to the conversation my parents were having about new windows in their kitchen, but every few seconds, my thoughts drifted back to the list. Learn how to cook. Learn how to ski. I shook each one out of my head, and wasn’t surprised when Derek asked if I was having a seizure. Fortunately, everyone laughed at my stupidity and didn’t question the reason for it.
*
Two hours of merriment and jokes at my expense later, I was ready to have the apartment back to myself. My family had the uncanny ability to make me feel trapped in an elevator stuck between floors.
*
“Thanks for coming. I had a great birthday. I love you Mom, Daddy,” I ushered them out of the door with a hug and kiss. “I can’t wait to use my coffee maker,” I called after them. “Thanks Anna, Derek. I’ll see you at lunch next week. Love you, Ash.” I gave each of them a quick hug and watched as they filed down the stairs and flowed into the parking lot.
*
I secured the lock on my door and went back to the table, where my presents laid amidst torn and crumpled wrapping paper. I stared at the coffee maker and photo and pulled the list out of my pocket. Smoothing out the folds and laying the paper down on the table, I examined it. The gifts my family had so thoughtfully given me now seemed like instruments of mental torture, reminders of my failure in life. The first two items popped off the page, threatening to strangle me with disappointed hopes.
*
#1 Fall in Love
#2 Get Married
*
I tried not to think about the list or my lifetime membership in the Singles Club while I cleaned and straightened the apartment, but when every surface had been scrubbed and the last bit of trash stowed safely in the dumpster, there was little else to occupy my mind.
*
Well, happy birthday to me.
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