by G. Benson
Lane smirked and leaned over Kym to top up all their glasses on the coffee table. She raised hers up in toast: “To Kym and her date we’re not mentioning, to Anna and the first birthday party she’s in charge of, and to Toby, who has no idea what any of the weeks of effort mean—Oh, and to Ella, who is more excited than everyone else combined.”
Laughter rang out as glasses clinked together to celebrate the night ahead, of organising a Thomas the Tank Engine-themed two-year-old’s birthday party.
Hours later, they all staggered upstairs, exhausted and a little tipsy. Anna checked on Toby and Ella while Kym stumbled blurrily past her to the guest room. When Anna walked into her bedroom, she smiled to see Lane already under the covers. After brushing her teeth, she crawled into bed, the euphoria of soft sheets enfolding her. With a chuckle, she remembered Kym going on about ‘bedgasms’ the week before. Nothing beat this feeling. Falling next to Lane, who was half-asleep lying on her side, Anna sighed contentedly as Lane blindly groped around, grasping Anna’s hand from behind and pulling her against her back. Wrapped around the warmth of Lane, the band around her chest eased. Eyes already closing, Anna curled around Lane’s back, kissing warm skin under her lips as Lane mumbled sleepily.
“What, Lane?”
Voice husky, Lane murmured, “All good romances start in the supermarket.”
Humming her agreement, Anna buried her face into Lane’s hair and fell asleep almost instantly.
* * *
What felt like only hours later, a noise that no one wanted to hear that early in the morning assaulted them.
Children. Very, very awake children.
Hair everywhere and squinting from the brightness, Anna sat bolt upright. Next to her, a groaning noise was Lane’s only contribution as she rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head.
Anna’s bleary eyes finally focused on Ella, holding onto Toby’s hand and kneeling on the edge of the bed, both of them giggling and jumping.
“Aunty Na! You’re awake, and it’s Toby’s birthday!”
If one didn’t know better, they would assume it was Ella’s birthday.
“Is it?” Grinning, Anna pulled him onto her lap, tickling him and planting kisses all over his face and head. He squealed and squirmed until she stopped, and he sat up, grinning and flushed, hair like a nest atop his head. “Happy birthday, little man!”
“Birfday.”
Attempts to smooth his hair failed, so she cupped his cheeks, pulling him in to kiss his forehead. “Yup, it’s your birthday.”
Wasting no time, Ella crawled up the bed and flopped onto Lane, who made a loud “oof” noise without moving or otherwise acknowledging Ella’s presence. Sprawled over Lane, Ella said none too quietly, “Wake up, Lane!”
A whimper came from under the pillow.
“Wake up!”
Finally, Lane seemed to realise there was no escaping. Wild and tangled hair emerged from under the pillow when she pulled it away from her face. Anna had the urge to bury her hands in it and kiss her. With a glance at the two kids, though, she realised that at this rate, she’d have to wait until tonight.
“I’m awake.” Not even attempting to sit up, Lane turned her gaze onto the bundle in Anna’s lap.
“Happy birthday, Toby!”
Far too enthusiastically for morning, Toby waved his hands at her. Anna wrapped her arms around him and hugged him against her. “Do you know what birthday boys get?”
Before anyone else could say a word, Ella beat them to it: “Presents!”
“Yes, Toby gets presents, but he also gets birthday breakfast.”
“Panks!”
That word was always a disaster. Smiling, Anna repeated, “Yup, pancakes.”
Trying again, he said, “Panks.” He nodded very seriously, as if there had been a difference.
“Did I hear ‘pancakes’?”
Kym rounded the doorway into the room and flopped on the end of the bed, both Ella and Toby crawling over to land on her in a hug.
“Whoa! Morning, guys. And happy birthday, Toby!”
With a grin, she blew a raspberry on his neck and he squealed, crawling back, giggling, to Anna. Changing his mind partway and heading for Lane instead, he lay on her and snuggled into her neck. Lane rubbed his back, and he wiggled closer against her.
Anna patted his bum, which was sticking up in the air. “Mister Toby, how did you get out of bed?”
A giggle was his only answer as he burrowed further into Lane, who did nothing to discourage him.
Another giggle, higher pitched and telling, made Anna turn around to raise her eyebrows at her niece. “Ella?”
Green eyes widened. “Yes?”
“How did Toby get out of his cot?”
Kym suddenly became extremely interesting as Ella, her lips curving up in spite of herself, made zero eye contact and played instead with Kym’s fingers. “Um…”
Making Ella crack was easy. All Anna had to do was stare at her. It worked every time, even when she just felt Anna’s glare. Ella lasted all of five seconds, and Kym visibly smothered a laugh.
“Well, I woke up, and I was so excited for Toby’s birthday. So I maybe went into his room and woke him up.”
Yet another giggle came from Toby. Lane poked his ribs and made him yelp and laugh loudly.
“So how did he get out?”
“Uh—”
“Did you help him again?”
Ella squirmed. “I maybe, last time, helped him, but he did it mostly himself. And this time, he kind of just climbed out after I woke him up and sang ‘happy birthday’ to him.”
With a heavy sigh, Anna said, “Great. I was waiting for that.”
Ella looked up at her, visible relief across her features. “You were? I’m not in trouble?”
“Not really, missy. It’s normal he’d learn to get out.”
Kym wrapped her arms around Ella and tickled her. “It’s a good thing. You just helped the process, Ella.”
Pushing at Kym’s fingers and giggling, Ella’s eyes glinted with mischief. “I’m his big sister. I like teaching him to get into trouble.”
There were times like this where Anna was grateful that somehow, Ella had still stayed Ella after her parents’ death. More contemplative, quieter at times, but still her. She squeezed Ella’s knee. “That’s true. Well, lucky for you, Toby’s present is about that.”
“What did you get him?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should have breakfast before we do presents.”
Ella shook her head, and Toby sat up, interested in the conversation now that a word he knew well had been mentioned. Ella gave her a pleading look. “No, Aunty Na, presents. Please.”
Never in the history of pleases had there ever been such an elongated one.
Looking from Anna to Ella and back, Toby then pushed off Lane’s stomach, making her groan loudly in protest as a little knee sunk in. He ended up on Anna’s lap and knelt in it, smiling, dimples prominent. “Na, pease?”
Anna wrapped him up in her arms and scooted to the edge of the bed, standing up and moving him onto her hip. “All right! Everyone to the guest room.”
Easily scooting off the bed, Ella said very seriously, “Don’t be silly; it’s Kym’s room.”
With a groan, Kym followed Ella out. “Kym’s room?” She huffed. “I need to get me a life.”
A pillow hit her in the back, and Kym turned to glare at Lane. With a shrug, Lane grinned. “Just move in and admit defeat, Kym.”
“That’s rich.”
“Excuse me?” Lane asked. “What was that?”
Kym smirked. “That’s rich, directed at me, the woman who barely sleeps here anymore, from the woman who probably can’t remember the last time she slept two nights in a row at her own apartment.”
“I—but, you—oh, shut up.”
“Hm. Nice comeback.”
They followed Anna, Ella, and Toby to the guest room. After sliding a squirming and delighted Toby to the ground, Anna joined
the others in watching him run the few steps to the bed they had assembled in there to keep it hidden from him when he woke up.
He stopped at the end and stared, taking in the Thomas the Tank Engine toddler bed. It was bright blue and red and in the shape of Thomas, and Anna quite possibly had spent a lot more money on it than she should have for a bed that would last him five years at a maximum.
Though right then, the look of utter delight on his face made it worth it. A knot formed in her stomach as she watched his bright eyes, so reminiscent of her brother’s, as they stared in utterly transparent disbelief.
“Happy birthday, Toby!” they all said together. Ella was bouncing and looked just as happy as Toby.
“Cool!”
Turning to look at Anna, Toby asked, “Mine?”
Anna nodded. “It’s all for you, Toby. A big-boy bed.”
With his eyes back on the bed, he ran his hand over the wide Thomas face. Slowly, the smile disappeared from his lips. He looked from the bed to Anna. As one, they all stood aside while he walked past them and stared down the hallway. He looked down, then back at his new bed, then down the hall again.
Eventually, he focussed back on Anna. “Bed!” He looked to the Thomas bed and pointed at it. “Mine?”
And finally it clicked.
He was looking at her like she was a crazy lady putting his bed in the wrong room. Easily, she scooped him up to her hip. “I know; it’s in the guest room.”
Ella’s voice chimed in. “Kym’s room!”
With a nod, Anna said, “Right. Sorry, Ella—Kym’s room.”
“Oi!”
“It’s in Kym’s room so it would be a surprise,” she told him, acting like she hadn’t heard Kym “We’ll move it into your room after your party, okay?”
For a moment, he eyed her, until a grin plastered on his face. “Toby’s bed!”
The lisp on his s was cuter than it should have been. Her brother had lisped for years.
“Exactly. Toby’s bed. Now, breakfast?”
Ella took Lane and Kym’s hand and dragged them down the hallway.
“You’re cooking, though. Right, Nurse Lane?”
Ignoring Anna’s indignant “hey,” Lane said, “I sure am.”
They made pancakes, with Ella helping and Toby thinking he was helping.
When Lane and Kym gave Toby his presents, his delighted shouts filled the house. Once he got the idea of ripping the wrapping paper off, his little fingers made quick work and quick mess of it all. Ella had chosen Toby a new backpack for day care that came with pencils and stationery inside. It was something Anna had the sneaking suspicion Ella knew she’d end up using herself, as Toby wasn’t yet big on colouring in. A new box of toddler Legos from Kym was upended in seconds and spread over the floor, the colours brightening the normally dull white linoleum. At one point, Toby wandered into the kitchen with the Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas Lane had bought him pulled on back to front and clutched at Anna’s legs, flushed and grinning. She ran her fingers through his silky hair, grateful that, at least for now, he was having a good birthday.
“Hello big birthday boy!” came calling down the hallway just as they were sitting down to breakfast, and Toby squealed. Anna had just managed to get one of his legs into his high chair, but as Andrew wheeled in a bright green tricycle, Sandra right behind him, all hope of him sitting vanished. Instead, they ate standing around the room as Ella taught Toby to use his newest present.
The rest of the morning passed with getting Toby’s new bed into his room, now that Anna’s parents were there to help, and dismantling the old cot. As soon as his new bed was ready for him, Toby grinned at Anna and lay down, pulling his new blanket up and completely over himself. All that was left was a wriggling lump under the cover.
There was a pang in her stomach as she looked at the pieces of the cot on the floor.
He was growing up.
A hand cupped her shoulder, and she nearly jumped. Her father stood behind her, an odd look playing over his features as he watched the lump wriggle further down the bed.
She put her hand over his and watched Toby.
“Right now, it’s like I’m watching Jake when we put him in his first bed.”
The grip she had on his fingers tightened. For a moment, she almost didn’t breathe, as if she could scare him off with the slightest movement.
“Jake called me when they got Ella in her first bed, asking if it was legal to sedate kids.”
Andrew gave a startled laugh. “My son did that? Really?”
“It was the second week, and the new freedom meant getting her to stay in her bed was a nightmare. He called saying they found her in the kitchen playing with her tea set at two a.m. He said that if he had to sit down and pretend to be ‘Mrs Bird’ in the early hours of the morning one more time to pacify her into going back to bed, he’d scream.”
“He’d do that with her?”
She nodded—of course he had. Her brother had done anything for his kids. “It settled after a few weeks, but Sally sent me a photo of him on the kitchen floor downstairs wearing a purple feather scarf and blurrily eating fake biscuits.”
Andrew gave a small chuckle, and his hand stayed on her shoulder, as heavy as a promise.
As Toby became bored of what he was doing, he scooted on his bottom to the gap at the end, past the small guardrail that ran along the edge of the bed. After a moment of staring at it with a furrowed brow, he figured it out, managing to slide down and grin at them, his sense of triumph unmistakable. With a final pat of the sheets, he walked up to take Anna’s offered hand.
“Ella?” His l’s still came out more like y’s.
“Want to find your sister?”
Toby nodded, then held out his hand to his grandfather, who took it, giving him a small smile. “Ganpa.”
Andrew’s smile only grew as they were tugged downstairs.
Giving up on getting Toby down for his usual late morning rest, they instead all sat on the front porch, watching Toby ride his tricycle up and down the front path while Ella followed on her scooter.
Her leg bouncing slightly, Anna asked her mother, “And you picked up the cake?”
“For the third time, ‘yes’. And I brought the cupcakes I made.”
“Sorry, just—what if all the mums there judge me? What if I throw a crappy birthday party?”
Kym snorted into her mug. “As if.”
“What does that mean?”
“You spent three weeks researching toddler’s birthday parties on the web, Anna. You made lists. You bought half the grocery store and the toy store. We were up until all hours sorting the prizes and the bags and everything.” She raised her eyebrows at her. “We’ve checked everything off list one.”
From where she stood leaning against the railing next to Andrew, Sandra coughed. “List one?”
Anna’s cheeks warmed as Lane fought through her laughter. “There’s three lists: pre, during and post.”
Andrew joined in, and immediately, Sandra cocked her head at him. “Uh, excuse me, why are you laughing? You made an itinerary for Anna’s first week home from the hospital that you expected the newborn to follow.”
Lane snorted, and Kym elbowed her, biting her lip to smother what Anna assumed was a laugh. Rubbing the back of his neck, Andrew looked anywhere but at them.
With a tightly pressed grin, Anna turned back to Lane and Kym. “See, there’s a reason I am how I am.”
Amusement brightened Sandra’s expression. “Honey, if you expect to have time to check off a list during a toddler’s birthday, you’re in for a horrible shock.”
“I was at Ella’s parties; there’ll be time.”
Sandra smirked, a look that didn’t quite fit her. “You think there’s time because you were being cool aunty giving awesome gifts and playing with them? Sally was running around like a headless chook ensuring soccer Mums didn’t bitch each other to death, that no one fell over and damaged themselves, and that the kids didn’t implode from t
oo much sugar.”
Anna’s eyes went wide, and Sandra sipped her tea with a grimace. “That probably wasn’t the calming thing I was meant to say.”
Lane and Kym snickered.
At one thirty, they all walked to the park, except for Andrew, who drove the car filled with the party supply boxes they’d packed the night before. While Toby and Ella played, the adults blew up balloons and hung them with streamers all over the barbecue area. Anna clutched her clipboard and gave her mother a smug look.
Infuriatingly, her mother only responded with a benign smile.
Come two o’clock, people were arriving, and the park filled with screaming and laughter.
Anna had invited some of Ella’s friends from school and pretty much the entire day care population. Pretty soon, she didn’t have time to even think of her list. As Toby pulled apart wrapping paper, Anna had to ensure everyone got a ‘thank-you’, that food was distributed, and that introductions were made. It was hectic and exhausting, and why did children squeal so much? Anna barely remembered to sit. It wasn’t until Lane floated past and pushed a couple of the cut-up sandwiches into her hand with a chuckle that Anna realised an hour had already passed and she hadn’t eaten anything since a few pancakes early that morning.
During games time, the various ages of the kids clashed, with the older ones who understood the rules exhibiting increasing signs of frustration at the younger ones who kept wanting to play with the boxes the presents came in or throw wrapping paper at each other. One red-cheeked five-year-old even hit his younger brother on the head with a sauce bottle. But eventually, prizes were handed out, and Anna gave silent thanks that there were only three incidents of sugar-hyped tears.
As she stood over the cake box in exhaustion, Anna pulled it open with a long, relieved breath. Cake meant it was almost over. Next year, she would take Toby to the cinema or pay her mother a million dollars to do it for her.
“Hey.”
The soft words trickled over her, and she leant back against Lane’s chest. “Hey,” she said. “Fancy seeing you here.”
When Anna finished putting candles on the cake, careful not to destroy the overpriced design printed upon it, Lane stepped out from behind her, gazing at her with a soft look.
