#para002

For all intents and purposes as Phoebe awoke that morning, it was just another Monday. Well, she had once again fallen victim to the peace and serenity sleep brought her, still hoping the last month had been some horrific nightmare, where she’d roll over and find Foster there and everything would be fine. But, aside from that, just another day.

She watched the sun flit through the cheap, thin curtains as she laid in bed until Misty’s mewling was impossible to ignore. She fed the cat, made herself some coffee, and watched as the first notifications of the day popped up.

One thing was certain in life. Jeanie Ramachandran was always going to be the first one to post a birthday story for Phoebe, no matter how many times the birthday girl in question had complained. There was a few years where the bartender hadn’t take into account the time difference of where she was traveling to Illinois, which left a lot of people confused on when Phoebe’s date of birth was exactly, and she couldn’t help but admit that the best birthday gifts were that of confused texts from friends and acquaintances apologizing for being a day too late or too early.

Still, she got the notification that Jeanie had added her to her Instagram story, but didn’t click on it, watching her phone curiously to see if two specific people would contact her today. Her mom was unpredictable in every sense of the word, and Foster…

She told him she’d reach out first. What was she supposed to do; text him ‘hey I’m ready to talk now. BTW its my birthday’? Phoebe would rather gouge her eyes out with a spoon. 

Still, she opened up her text history with Lisa, the last few on Phoebe’s end going undelivered which meant her mom likely disconnected her number and was starting afresh somewhere new. It wasn’t like she’d forget Phoebe’s birthday: the worst day of Lisa Yates’ life. But whether she’d break no-contact with her daughter was anyone’s guess.

12 years ago. Phoebe’s 18th birthday.

“It’s upsetting me you’re not doing a party, Bee. You’re eighteen.” Lisa whined from her usual place on the couch. Douglas had just broken up with her, now his ex-wife was single again. True love never meant to be broken apart, Phoebe assumed. And Lisa just liked an excuse to wear her bathrobe at all hours of the day.

“Who’d come to my party, Mom? You, Linc, Seb, Jeanie —,” She paused, staring at her mother incredulously. “Not exactly a big birthday blowout.”

Lisa scoffed. “Oh, please. You have more friends than that. C’mon, I can get the invitations sent out today.”

“It’s Sunday, Mom. The post office isn’t exactly open.” She had finished packing her bag for the day, the dusty blue polo shirt of her Gulp ‘n’ Go uniform being her designated birthday outfit to ring in eighteen years. “Now I’m going to work, but I’ll be back later.” And she kissed Lisa on the forehead, prepared to have a normal day.

Upon returning home, the darkness setting over the small Weaver Ridge apartment with the exception of the neon lights of Gulp ‘n’Go guiding Phoebe jimmying the lock slightly before throwing her body weight into the door to get it open. She stumbled into the darkened living room, clutching the small store bought cake that she was sure was stale, but it was the only one the gas station had. Lisa was still sitting on the couch, just where Phoebe had left her, an empty bottle of red wine on the coffee table, a fresh one just being opened. 

“Hey.” Phoebe murmured, keeping her distance, trying to gauge which drunk Lisa she was getting. It most likely wasn’t the happy-go lucky party girl most people associated with her, which meant…

“Here’s to the anniversary of when I almost died!” Lisa slurred, holding up her wine glass, red wine splashing carelessly from the rim.

“Mom..” It was a story she heard every year. Sometimes it was painted in a more forgiving light, and others like now, it was like Phoebe deliberately made her entrance to the world a difficult and painful one.

“Just sixteen, barely lived. And you, fucking hell. You had the cord wrapped around your neck, and a really weak heartbeat, and never mind I was gushing out blood like I had an unlimited supply of it.” She sneered at Phoebe, who just stood there numbly. “And I remember begging God to let me live, let us both live. And I’d provide you with a great life.” Lisa managed to stand, stumbling over to her daughter. Phoebe tried hard to blink back the tears. 

“The worst day of my life, and you’re too selfish to even honor that with a fucking party.” The smell of wine on her hot breath made Phoebe’s stomach churn. “Happy birthday, Bee.” And with a shoulder check, stormed off to her bedroom.

Phoebe stood there numbly, taking a few deep breaths, before dumping the cake in the trash and just heading to bed, preparing for tomorrow to be a truly normal day.

Blinking out of her thoughts, Phoebe closed the text history with Lisa, deciding it was probably better to not hear from her mother, and after confirming to Jeanie she was definitely going to meet her later and not bail, showered and got dressed. The only good thing about Mondays was that it was Phoebe’s day off from the paper, and with her internship ending soon, she had no qualms about going in the remainder of the week either. She had a connection, had emailed her manuscript over to a potential agent who’d possibly take her on as a client. It was just the matter of finding something else to do with her day. 

If her and Foster survived it, would he have done something? She had no doubt he’d have respected her wishes to keep things lowkey, but she couldn’t help but mourn the potential loss of the birthday of a woman in a happy relationship, rather than the single thirty year old who barely felt like she was out of her teens. At least, a small voice told her, it was better than any birthday she was forced to spend with Spencer…

7 years ago. Phoebe’s 23rd birthday.

They hadn’t been dating that long. Only meeting a few months ago when he came by chance to O’Shea’s, and Phoebe served him the wrong drink by accident. After that, Spencer came by every Friday night to ask her out. He was charming, good looking, but she had been hesitant. However, one night she agreed, and the rest was history.

The thing was, Spencer was maybe too nice. He never let Phoebe have a bad word to say about herself, any self-deprecating jokes regarding her writing or playing immediately shut down. “Y’know you shouldn’t say those things about yourself,” He had pointed out one day, “I don’t like it. You wouldn’t like it if I said those things about me, would you?” And she had to admit she wouldn’t. But maybe after two decades of her mom’s backhanded compliments and ability to fly off the handle at any given moment, Phoebe was finally waiting for Spencer, and should have just quelled her anxiety that the other shoe looming over her threateningly was going to drop.

Then she turned twenty-three. And the shoe dropped hard. 

It had been her usual routine. She’d wake up, there’d be a post from Jeanie and other texts from her friends. Her mom would douse her in attention and bitch and moan that Phoebe wasn’t throwing a party, and that she wanted to shout from the rooftops that her baby girl was born twenty-three years today! But Phoebe wanted a normal day. She had the rare weekend off from O’Shea’s, and wanted to spend time with Spencer who, by her own design, had no idea what the date meant.

But all day he was off with her, like he couldn’t have thought of anything worse than spending time with his…well, they hadn’t exactly put a label on it yet, but Phoebe assumed with the way things were going it wouldn’t be long until they were boyfriend and girlfriend. It wasn’t until they came back to his apartment, a large chrome inspired place in the nice part of Cardinal Hill, when he took out his phone showing a screenshot of Jeanie’s birthday wishes to Phoebe, and slid it over to her.

“Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to find out this way?” He asked, and Phoebe immediately felt guilt wash over her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just…my birthday isn’t a big deal to me, and uh, we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months so..” She tried to explain, and Spencer had the audacity to scoff in her face.

“No, I get it Phoebe. You don’t think I’m important enough. God, to think what amazing plans you must have canceled out on to slum it with me.” He shook his head. “I bet your friends will think I’m such an asshole for not getting you a gift. For not even saying it to you!” 

“They won’t think that, they know I’m…look, it’s just a day.” She tried to reason, heart palpitating at the idea of upsetting him further. “I…I can make it up to you. We can go for dinner, or…do something tomorrow, maybe?” 

He looked at her with utter contempt, shaking his head. “I think I should just drop you off home.” And that’s what he did, the car ride silent, Phoebe feeling like a monster for not disclosing her birthday to him. Her mom had set up more balloons since that morning, and even got Phoebe a cake from Walmart, and she held back tears the entire night.

When she woke up the next morning, she had a text from Spencer inviting her over. She tentatively did, scared things would end before they even really began, being met instead with a large balloon arch, the biggest cake she ever seen, and a small pile of gifts. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday, I was just upset you felt like you had to keep it from me. I was worried you thought I was someone who’d feel…inconvenienced or something.” He said, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’m never not going to make you feel like your birthday isn’t a big deal ever again…”

If only she knew what the next four years of birthdays would bring.

Her morning flew by quickly, though she was tense to leave on the off-chance Foster dropped by. But she left it for as long as she did to go for her pre-made plans she couldn’t exactly cancel, returning home with a couple of hours to spare in getting ready for whatever Jeanie had planned for her. 

Whatever it was, she could handle it. She was still a living, breathing person after what Elijah had gifted to her, and she knew the excitement would sink in after the shock and the exhaustion of her birthday was past her. 

Still, she came home, sorting through her closet to find something suitable, eyes falling on the gift box. Nine whole months it had been shoved in there, the vaguely festive wrapping paper collecting dust. Phoebe had strategically hidden it behind Foster’s stuff when he had first moved in, but without his pants and coats hung up, it was there hiding in plain sight, staring at her in the face.

She pulled it out and placed it on the bed, tearing it open and lifting the box flaps, letting out a soft gasp at what was inside.

2004. Phoebe’s 10th birthday.

“Mommy, mommy! Look!” When her mom had asked Phoebe what she wanted to do today, letting her skip school to celebrate her birthday, all the little girl wanted to was spend time with her mom. Lisa opted to take them to Chicago for the day, letting Phoebe into boutiques, music stores, and even had plans to visit one of the museums after lunch.

They were currently in a small second-hand bookstore, and Phoebe stared hungrily at what was on offer on the small, rickety shelves. The kindly old man was patient with all of her questions, and she had stumbled upon the best thing she had even seen.

A three-piece collection of Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, and Peter Pan.

“Oh, they’re a bit young for you, aren’t you?” Lisa questioned with a patient smile, as Phoebe held up the books. “Like, baby, you have an advanced reading level — your teacher even said — you don’t wanna waste time with children’s books.”

“But mom, look at them. They’re like really special.” Phoebe defended, her big brown eyes watering. Lisa, to her credit, did take the box holding the books in her hands, studying each angle, eyes landing on the price tag.

“I’m sorry, Bee. I would, but they’re just…so expensive. For books! C’mon, I can get you a pretty new birthday dress next door for the same price.” They thanked the man for his time, and Phoebe hesitantly put the set down, and no matter how many times she returned to that store over the years  — to any second hand store in the greater Illinois area — Phoebe was convinced she had lost those books forever.

There, staring at her in the box, was the exact same collection set she had stumbled upon twenty years ago. All three stories of a little girl going to a magical land, all three stories about her somehow, some way finding her way home again.

There was no note, no clever sentence tying Oz, Wonderland or Neverland into Blue Harbor or what Phoebe sacrificed in her last thirty years. She didn’t know if it was an apology, or somehow Lisa proving that no matter what, she did care and listen to what her daughter wanted. All Phoebe could do was leave the books on her bed as she got ready.

The last guest was long gone, and the cleanup had been, as always, a family effort. Everyone doing their part to return the house back to some kind of order. Everyone had a job, and Lauren, stickler for organization that she was, had been tasked with putting away the leftovers in a reasonable and tidy manner. 

It was a wonder there was any food left; her mother, as per usual had gone overboard. But it was for good reason. As tradition, their dinner usually included some of her brothers' teammates, the guys unable to travel home for the holiday, for whatever reason. There were five of them this year, nice guys who complimented the cooking and talked football with her father and charmed her mother and younger brothers. At least they'd been expected, their places planned for at the dinner table.

If anything she was the anomaly. The interloper, the surprise guest showing up unexpectedly. After landing at the airport, she'd taken a Lyft home, laughing at the look of surprise on her father's face when he opened the front door. She hadn't discussed her plans with anyone; staying at Ginsburg had been the idea...until the drama, most of it not hers, but the small part that was, it was enough to convince her that a break was necessary. Feeling tired, overworked, and wanting to be in a setting that felt familiar seemed too good to pass up. 

The food was packed up, the kitchen was clean, the guests were gone, her parents had retired to bed, and Lauren could finally change into comfy clothes and settle in a favorite spot. In the den, on the massive sectional, sandwiched between two of her favorite people. Her younger brothers had been especially excited to see her, nearly tackling her in a combo hug, towering over her in a way that made her chest ache because she missed them so much. They stuck close to her, surprising considering the last thing most 15 year old boys wanted was to be babied by their big sister, but here they were. João, taller than she'd remembered, sprawled on the sofa, body taking up a good amount of room while his head rested on Lauren's lap. 

He kept dozing off, unfocused on the show they were supposed to be watching, his content state heightened by Lauren's fingers combing through his dark brown curls. Matheus, however, was the total opposite of his twin, squished beside Lauren and talking animatedly about the show, which had been his pick and Lauren had to admit she was more focused on his commentary than the actual plot. Matty had a way of making everything feel more elaborate, injecting a streak of dramatic flair typical in the Zizes household. Lauren missed it. The noise and nonsense she'd grown so familiar with, different from the college atmosphere that had been her reality for the past few months. 

Their chatter was interrupted by Gabe, yanking the remote from Matty's grasp and tumbling over the back of the couch, nearly landing on top of the younger boy who luckily had the good sense to roll out of the way, landing on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. 

"Seriously?" Lauren glanced over at Gabe, who managed to balance a large bowl in the middle of his chaotic entrance, never spilling a chip as he stuck his landing. 

"What? He moved. That Zizes instinct comin' through." Matty seemed no worse for wear, making a comfortable spot on the floor and accepting the bowl of Doritos when Gabe passed it down, his gaze never leaving the television screen. 

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Y'all are ridiculous. You could’ve broken his damn neck.” Her grumble was cut short when, out of nowhere, a hand came whizzing by. João, reaching overhead, past Lauren to grab a handful of chips, shoveling them in his mouth with a loud crunching noise. “Dammit, Jojo! You almost hit me.” 

His ‘sorry’ was muffled by chewing and Lauren scowled waiting a beat before bopping him on the forehead. 

“Next time just ask for the bowl, dummy. How are y’all still eatin’ after all that food?” 

Gabe shrugged and sank lower in his seat, enough to prop his sock covered feet on the coffee table. “I’m a growing boy. I ain’t wanna dig around in all those bowls. You got the fridge locked up. Chips was easier.” He offered her the bowl as a peace offering and despite her glare, it didn’t stop her from swiping a few. Dark eyes, much like her own glanced at the screen and he frowned. “What the hell are y’all watching?” 

“Matty picked. I think it’s some Star Wars thing?” 

There came a huff from the floor, and Matheus lifted his head from her knee. “It’s ‘The Mandalorian’, Lo. I said that twenty minutes ago.” 

“Okay, so I was right. It was a Star Wars thing.” 

Gabe snorted beside her. “Turn it off, I haven’t watched the first ep yet, I don’t wanna be spoiled.” 

Lauren reached for a few more chips, grabbing a handful and pointing with her pinky at Gabe’s lap. “You have the remote, genius. Just switch it to something everybody wants to watch. Don’t put on those NatGeo docs, bout to put everybody to sleep.” 

Matty laughed. “Jojo’s already asleep.” 

“No I’m not!” came the sleep-filled reply from her sweatpants-covered lap and Lauren looked down at her little brother, who was busy wiping crumbs from his face. “Lo, you’re getting Dorito dust on me.” 

“Yeah well that’s what you get for almost smackin’ me, we’re even.” She rubbed her fingers together, laughing at his grumbling because despite it, she knew he wasn’t moving. “Where’s Nono?” she asked Gabe, who was still busy browsing through Netflix and vetoing Matty’s suggestions. 

“Think he’s still talking to Zara on the phone. Makin’ plans to link up after practice.” Gabe tossed the remote to Matty, and turned his full attention on Lauren. “You stayin’ for the game on Saturday? Watch us bust some Aggie ass?”

Lauren nibbled at her bottom lip. She'd forgotten about the possibility of a football game. Already figuring it would be a reality for winter break, in her haste to get away from Ginsburg for the holiday, it had slipped her mind. 

"My flight back to school is Saturday," she replied, unsure if she was relieved or annoyed. At herself. More than likely at the situation. Dinner had been spent literally surrounded by football, her brother teammates piled into the large dining room they only ever used for holidays and big parties. And at first, Lauren had completely disappeared amongst the talk of plays and stats and names, occasionally cracking a smile at a stray joke, her grin growing when her eyes happened to catch her father's. Her parents seemed happy to see her. Her father clutched her tightly and kissed her forehead, the warmth behind it making her feel most at home. 

And she supposed her mother, with her busy to-do list that involved ordering the rest of them around with chopping and shopping and cleaning and organizing didn't have much time for her usual spiel. Again, the surprise drop in was good for something. She'd managed a quick kiss to her daughter's cheek and promptly sent her on an errand. Lauren figured come Christmastime, she wouldn't be so lucky. 

For his part, Gabe took the news of her departure easily. Then again, that was his way. Of all her brothers, the two were more alike, in looks and temperament. Where Antonio was the quiet, responsible type, Gabe was loud, the center of attention and quick with a joke. The two of them bumped heads, but never really outright clashed, trading snarky comments back and forth until a peace offering (usually food) was suggested. 

“There’s always games,” he replied easily. “You’ll catch another one.” They turned their attention back to the television, where Matty had found something else to watch (Black Panther) and managed to snatch the bowl of chips from his older brother, setting it beside him so he could share with his twin. 

“Thanks, for not giving me shit about it.” 

Gabe shook his head. “It’s just football, Lozinha. I realize sayin’ that’s a cardinal sin ‘round here. But you haven’t been into this shit since we were in high school. It’s cool. Although…” he turned to his sister, big grin on his handsome face and Lauren knew it was bound to be something that would no doubt annoy her. “If you did show up, I know of at least three dudes who’d be pretty hype about that.” 

She made a face. “Please don’t push me off on your football pals, it’s so weird. Not to mention unnecessary.” 

“You say ‘unnecessary’, I say Cameron was staring hard and it wasn’t the turkey he was eyeballin’.” 

Lauren rolled her eyes, her annoyance only rising at Gabe’s loud laughter, but smiled when the twins both shushed him. She had noticed Cameron, catching her eyes whenever she looked up and making sure they were seated beside each other at dinner. 

He was sweet enough, a junior linebacker studying sports medicine with dreams of being a physical therapist, and he listened attentively while she talked about Ginsburg and her major. Their conversation had been pleasant, but it was a typical dinner talk: polite and surface-level and though she enjoyed it, hadn’t thought much more about it, especially when she had other matters to attend to, mainly cleaning. A total gentleman, he bid her goodnight and leaned in for a hug, a one-armed gesture that ended with a gentle squeeze of her hip, which...okay that might’ve been forward...but she didn’t dwell on it, simply brushing it off as friendly.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. He’s nice but he lives here. I’m at Ginsburg. Plus I’m not really looking for that right now.” 

“Uh-huh…” Gabe trailed off, studying his sister’s profile. “Soooo, is that ‘cause you already have something? And when are you gonna let me talk to your crew? Do they know you’ve got a hot single brother? Like come on, what good is having a sister if I can’t hit on your fine ass friends?”

“That is a lot of stupid happening in one sentence,” she replied, laughing. “I’m not letting my friends anywhere near you. Besides, you already got a school-full of folks you can charm, get outta my friends list.” 

“Jeez, be selfish. But you could be keeping me from the love of my life. I hope you’re happy.” 

“My one mission’s to make your ass miserable so yep, I’m pretty content right now.” 

Gabe snorted. “It’s possible you came back a bigger pain in the ass.”

“It’s a required Gins elective. Bad Bitch 101.” Lauren flipped her hair, laughing when João grumbled about being jostled. She ruffled his hair, letting her fingers linger to card gently through his curls. 

“Are you two done?” Matheus grumbled from below. “We’re tryin’ to watch something here.” 

“Yeah whatever,” Gabe said, leaning forward to bop his younger brother on the shoulder. “You’ve seen this like a million times. Gimme the chips and put on something we all wanna watch.” 

“I don’t mind watching it,” came a voice from behind and Lauren looked up to see Antonio entering the den, tumbling over the back of the sectional much like Gabe did, settling beside his brother, and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. 

“Are y’all incapable of sitting on the couch like regular folk? I mean, damn.” Her question was met by a chorus of boos and Gabe, having recovered the chip bowl threw a Dorito at her, which she promptly caught in her mouth. 

“Nice. Learned that from one of those Ginsburg’s electives?”