by Janette Oke
When we got home Dana had tucked herself into bed and was sleeping peacefully. And Corey was ready to collapse himself. Daddy toted him up the stairs, and everybody was soon asleep.
Dana was back to her old self in the morning. I was awfully glad but sorry for all she’d missed. Here she had been sick all weekend and didn’t even get to skip a day of school. I was really happy she was up and around again. It had seemed odd not to have her there wherever I went.
Chapter Three
Corey didn’t mean to spill the beans about the birthday plans. It had happened when he’d wandered into our bedroom just after supper one night when Dana was browsing through a department store catalog.
“Whatcha doin’?” he wanted to know.
“She’s dreaming. Dana hopes Grandma and Grandpa will send enough birthday money so she can get a new spread for her bed—even if we wouldn’t match anymore.” There had never been a birthday gift even close to being that lavish. But Dana had refused to listen to my opinion on the matter.
Corey hopped up beside Dana and peered at the book. He glanced over the pages with her, then shrugged. “I like the blue ones best.”
“Which blue ones?” Dana flipped another page.
“The ones Mommy put in the garage. She gots the paint out there too.”
“What do you mean, Corey?” Dana turned toward him intently. I knew she was hardly able to suppress the hope that what he was saying might be true. “Did Mommy hide them in the garage? When did you see them? Did she buy two?”
“I forgot. I am not supposed to tell.”
I could hardly keep from laughing at the play of expressions across his face. He had important information, but he had been instructed to keep it secret.
Dana was about to ply Corey with more questions, but I interfered. “It’s all right, Corey. Dana isn’t going to ask you anything more—and that way you won’t tell any secrets. Okay?”
“Okay.” One affectionate hand moved out to pat Dana’s knee. “Okay, Sissy?”
Dana cast a crosswise look up at me, but she nodded in agreement to Corey.
“How ’bout we play hide ’n’ seek? I’m the counter, and you guys are hiders,” Corey explained.
“No. Dana and I have homework to do. And we’ve got to finish, so you’d better scoot.”
Corey frowned. “Okay.” He looked back over his shoulder as he padded out the door. “Anyway, I didn’t tell. ’Least, not everything.”
“That’s right. You didn’t.” I closed the door quietly behind him and then spun around to grin at Dana.
She didn’t give me a chance to speak. “What did you do that for? I wanted to know whether there are any comforters out there or not. Since when are you above a little snooping?” “You don’t get it. If Corey understood that he’d already spoiled the secret, he’d go straight to Mom. This way, he thinks he’s still keeping the secret. Now we can look in the garage and find the presents ourselves. It’s perfect. Mom won’t suspect a thing.”
Dana hesitated. “That’s not very nice, Erin. Mom really likes to surprise us. I wanted to know if I was getting one. I don’t necessarily want to see it right now.”
“Fine, but I’m going to look in the garage. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Dana was right on my heels as I left the room.
“Girls? Is your homework done already?” Mom was at the kitchen table putting last-minute touches on a church mission project, all the while chatting with a friend on the telephone. Somehow she still managed to notice our attempt at an exploratory excursion to the garage.
“Not quite,” we admitted. “We were just going out for a few minutes. We’ll be right back.”
“Any particular reason?” she asked, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.
Mom, who was as trusting and pleasant a person as you’dever meet, always seemed to have a sixth sense whenever her children were about to step out of line.
We decided, after a silent conversation of meaningful glances back and forth, it was best to retreat. “No reason. Never mind.”
There was an inquisitive look in our direction. But Mom let the matter drop as we turned and plodded back up the stairs, hoping there would be a moment after school the next day to slip undetected into the garage for a look around.
But by the next afternoon, there was no hidden parcel. Not in the garage. Not in the large closet under the stairs. Not in any of the usual hiding places. The only thing Dana and I could conclude was that Mom had figured out where we’d been heading and had moved her surprises to a neighbor’s garage. She’d been known to do so in the past. Now there was nothing to do but wait.
Dana decided to continue perusing the catalog just in case she would still need to fall back on her original hopes—that enough money would somehow materialize when the mail arrived carrying the usual birthday check from Grandma and Grandpa Walsh. These were some very slim hopes, we both realized.
Brett’s birthday came first, falling this year on a Tuesday night and heralded with his favorite supper followed by his favorite cake—German chocolate with coconut pecan icing. Brett easily blew out all fifteen candles in one breath and still had enough air to exclaim excitedly, “Wow—now I can get my driver’s permit.” We all laughed.
Mom had allowed Brett to invite one friend over for dinner to celebrate with us. He had chosen Travis, the pastor’s son. I liked Travis, though he rarely spoke to me. But I always felt if he ever did address me, he was friendly enough. I couldn’t say the same about all the buddies that Brett brought home. In fact, Travis was a favorite of Mom and Dad’s too. And I think they did what they could to encourage the friendship.
Not that the boys didn’t naturally share common interests. They had both played on the school basketball team for the last two years. And both planned to make the varsity team in high school. Travis was somewhat taller than Brett, but Brett was quicker. So far he’d been able to make significant contributions to the team despite his size disadvantage.
“All right,” Daddy began after the cake had been devoured. “Why don’t you start, Corey? You tell Brett one thing you like about him, and then you keep count so we end up with fifteen—one for each of Brett’s years. Okay?” This was a favorite family birthday tradition.
Corey nodded and bit his lip in serious concentration.
“Wow, fifteen! It’s going to be hard to think of that many!” Every birthday somebody said it. This time it was Dana. Brett laughed it off and tried to pretend he had outgrown the ritual.
“I like Brett because he lets me play with the toy cars he builds.” The truth was, Brett only let Corey have a selected few of his model collection, some of his first attempts. The rest he kept on a very high and guarded shelf above his desk.
“My turn,” Mom was quick to chime in. “I appreciate what a kind older brother you are, Brett. There are lots of benefits of a larger family, but it’s not always easy. And, Brett, you are consistently kind and polite to your siblings.”
“That’s two,” I noted.
We all waited for Daddy to speak next. “I’m proud that you take responsibility and that you are a conscientious worker.” Corey cut in. “Daddy, is that one or two?”
“We’ll count it as just one.”
Brett was looking a little red and tried to avoid eye contact with anyone. Dana was ready to add her comment next, a teasing smile playing across her face. “I like you because kids in school like you—and when they hear that you’re my brother they expect to like me too.”
Brett laughed. “Yeah, until they get to know you.” Immediately he caught himself and squirmed in embarrassment. “Not really, Dana,” he mumbled. But she hadn’t been bothered by his joking.
It seemed that my turn had rolled around and I hadn’t really thought about what to say. “I like you because …” I began the sentence in hopes that something would pop into my head—and it did—“because you teach me some of your basketball moves. Most brothers wouldn’t do that. I’m glad you do.”
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sp; Mom looked as though she was just about to speak again when Travis cleared his throat. “I like you because you’re the only other guy on the basketball team who believes in God. And it makes me feel better knowing that … that we can kind of look out for each other.”
Mom waited a moment and then continued the countdown. I’m not sure Brett heard any more of it, though. I guess there’s only so much praise a fifteen-year-old boy can handle.
Now Brett was ready to dive into the gifts.
“Open mine, Brett, open mine.” Corey was electric with energy at any type of gathering. And birthday parties—anyone’s birthday party—seemed to make him more excited than anything else.
“All right, Corey, let’s see.” Brett picked up the wrinkled little package and shook it. “Is it a watch?”
Corey giggled. “No.”
“Is it … a diamond?” This time the laughter was louder.
“It’s not an elephant, is it?”
By now Corey was jumping and clapping. “Open it! Open it, Brett.”
Brett tore the wrapping off to reveal an odd little blue plastic bag. With a curious glance at Corey, he opened it and out fell two little white cylinders.
Corey was delighted. “They’re for your ears. They’re ear bugs.” We all chuckled, but Corey hurried on. “So you can stay asleep in our room even if I sleep there too. Momma helped me get them.”
This time Brett’s gaze searched Mom’s face. She was thoroughly enjoying the surprise.
“You’re goofy, Corey.” But Brett’s words were softened when he reached out and touched Corey’s shoulder lightly, and Corey grabbed his hand long enough to give it a little squeeze.
The next gift Brett opened was from Mom and Dad. It was a large, awkward-looking package and was obviously a mystery to Brett. He peeled back a corner and made an odd face. It was a skateboard. It was not what Brett had hinted for. Brett had always been too into basketball to be interested in any other sport.
Travis jumped right in. “Hey, Brett. That’s great. That’s a super make. Mine’s not nearly as good.”
Brett cocked his head toward Travis, still looking reluctant to show enthusiasm. “You’ve got one? I never knew that.”
“Sure. There’s a park in the city. A bunch of us guys go whenever we can. It’s great. But you’ve got to have a lot of nerve to do it. The ramps are really high.”
“How high?” I could tell Brett was warming up to the idea. I wondered if it was the thought of needing nerve that appealed to him.
The next gift from Mom and Daddy was a helmet and a set of pads. Brett flipped them over and over. I was pretty sure he was trying to picture what he’d look like in them.
Travis laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about what you’ll look like. All the guys wear them—and you’ll need them. Believe me.”
Brett’s next gift was from Dana and me, a new model car because we weren’t quite sure what else he’d like. Dana had wanted to try to be more original, but I talked her into staying with the sure thing. Brett could always use a new model kit.
“Thanks. This I know what to do with.”
There were a few more gifts, and then Mom bundled up the torn gift wrap while Brett handled each of his gifts again.
The next morning Dana’s gaze was a little preoccupied while we were walking to school. I knew that look. She was dreaming of the gifts she might get. And she had never stopped thinking about the possibility of the new bedroom accessories.
At last Monday night and Dana’s birthday celebration arrived. Both Marcy and Carli had been invited for the birthday dinner. They entered with giggles and chatter, sliding onto the bench on the far side of the table between Corey and me. Dana was allowed to sit in Daddy’s seat at the head of the table, and Mom stood nearby, her camera in hand. The supper that Dana had chosen was Chinese food. She loved sweet-and-sour chicken and fried rice. Since none of the rest of us were crazy about it, this was a rare treat for her, and she savored it thoroughly.
Dana had made another odd choice for dessert. A cheesecake, topped with cherries. Mom had already positioned and lit the candles on this nontraditional birthday treat, and we sang “Happy Birthday” as we watched the tiny lights flicker against the shiny red fruit.
We did the usual counting-of-family-compliments thing, but I wondered as I watched Dana if she was really hearing the nice things we were saying about her. Her smile was looking more and more forced, and she was fidgeting on her seat.
Once the presents were gathered and set before her, she seemed rather ill at ease. I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was, but I wasn’t about to explain. Even unwrapping the gift from me, the new music book, just what she had wanted, brought only a wistful smile.
Finally there were no presents left, even though Mom and Dad’s was conspicuous by its absence. Just as Mom was about to begin a little speech, Dana raised her tense face and whispered, “Mom, can I talk to you for a minute? Please?”
Mom looked surprised but led Dana into the laundry room, where their conversation was just barely audible. I knew what was going on, even though no one could make out their words. Dana was confessing. But to my way of thinking, there had been no crime. Not even a slight transgression. What kid wouldn’t, if given opportunity, want to snoop out a birthday surprise before the actual day arrived? That was just common sense to me. And I was certain that when I became a parent, I would just expect my children to be tempted. I’d simply choose my hiding places well.
But Dana, who lived by “What would Jesus do?” could not rest until she had confessed to Mom that she had attempted to discover the hidden surprise. Mom had described Dana as having a “tender conscience.” I felt she was just a bit too goody-goody.
When Dana returned, she was smiling again. And Mom made her special presentation of the mystery packages. A lovely pair of blue comforters with delicate white pinstripes on one side and a print of darker blue rosebuds on the other were revealed to squeals of delight from both of us. The comforters were reversible. We could change the look anytime we liked.
In addition there were cans of soft blue paint to coordinate the walls with the new spreads, and also a beautiful wallpaper border as an accent. Last, but not least, Mom had sewn a pair of white lace balloon curtains. Together the gifts really would transform our room. Dana’s eyes shone. And I was grateful for my share of this extravagance. Though I was pretty sure that when my birthday arrived in two months’ time, I too could expect a gift that would be shared equally between us.
That was all right. Dana and I were used to sharing.
We used our new comforters that very night. Then Daddy took a day off on Thursday to help Mom do the painting. By Friday evening, all the accents had been added and the bedroom was complete.
Dana and I would have simply thrown the old comforters into the trash, but Mom washed them carefully and wrapped them in plastic. She and Corey would make a trip to the inner-city mission. She went fairly often and knew she could find someone who could make use of the faded but warm Barbie quilts.
Before my birthday actually arrived every year, the greatest gift of all had presented itself—freedom. School was over, and summer vacation beckoned with its invitation to outdoor fun. No more assigned reading. No more worksheets and reports. And definitely no more math problems!
My birthday celebration turned out to be a family dinner and a birthday cake of my choosing—heavy-duty chocolate with thick chocolate icing. We didn’t have any guests, and I didn’t really care. Marcy was away, as usual. I knew my special turn would come when I hit that magical age of thirteen. Marcy had already promised that even the temptation of visiting her grandparents at the lake would not keep her from celebrating that birthday with me. Besides, I admitted as I snuggled under my new blue comforter each night, I had sort of muscled in on Dana’s birthday anyway.
I was pleased with my gifts, especially the used computer that I was to share with Dana. Daddy’s office had been upgrading, and he had gotte
n a good deal on what we deemed to be an exciting machine. Now we wouldn’t have to vie for time to play video games or surf the ’net in between Brett or Corey. But with the freedom from classes and schedules, even the computer sat unused.
I intended to make the most of the all-too-short summer months. Dana and I were allowed to stay up later, to watch more television, and to visit with neighborhood friends almost as often as we wanted. Even Mom got into the summertime spirit with extra flare. This would be the last summer before Corey would begin kindergarten, and we knew she would savor every moment with her youngest.
At least once a week she loaded us all into the van, and we took a picnic lunch down near the shady creek-side park to sit, eat, and relax. Sometimes on a quiet back road she even let Brett take the wheel, though she insisted that he go painfully slow. Normally it was only Daddy who took Brett on his practice runs.
At the park Corey splashed in knee-deep water, caught minnows and tadpoles, and soaked himself to the skin. Dana curled her legs up under her on her favorite rock and read blissfully, soaking in the sunshine. I chatted with Mom, stretched out on the cool grass, or wandered alternately between Corey and Dana. Brett had taken to bringing a fishing rod, and on rare days he actually hooked a fish that was large enough to take home and cook, which was always Daddy’s job. Mom would not cook anything she’d seen moving and alive. She had a pretty hard and fast rule about that.
On other days we were allowed to walk to the strip mall that sat on the highway near our neighborhood. It wasn’t much. Just a gas station, a mini mart, and a bookstore, but we always felt it was worth the trip anyway. The chance for an outing was really our main interest. Mom wouldn’t allow us to ride our bikes because she said the sidewalks were safer and we’d be more careful if we weren’t racing.
In August Grandma and Grandpa Walsh arrived in their motor home for a visit. They parked their rig in the driveway, hooked our hose up to supply their makeshift kitchen, and placed their lawn chairs directly in front of the basketball hoop—no more playing in the sprinkler or shooting baskets.
