by Emma Vikes
“You’ll put that child up for adoption.”
My head snapped to Dad’s direction. The disappointment gleamed so clear in his eyes that it broke my heart even more.
Beside me, Mom moved to look at him. “Bob…”
“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Lois. Katie has her whole life ahead of her and…she can take a gap year. She can still go to college after that but she’s putting that kid up for adoption because…because—”
“No.”
All eyes were on me again, after I spoke.
I slowly stood up, glaring at my father. I placed a hand on my stomach, as if I was trying to protect my baby from everything being said right now, as if the baby could hear the discussion I had with her father and now with her grandparents.
“You’re too young to be a mother, Kate.” Dad stared at me, his brown eyes flashing.
I shook my head as I slowly backed away from them. “My life. My decision. None of you have a say in this.”
“Kate, c’mon, you’re not thinking clearly,” Andrew tried to reason with me.
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to raise my baby, whether or not you want me to, whether or not you’ll help me. I’ll do it on my own.”
Kate
7 Years Later
My phone wouldn’t stop pinging with notifications and it was beginning to get on my nerves.
I groaned and rolled to the side ‒ careful not to wake up Faith with the movement ‒ and reached for my phone to check what was going on. Most of the notifications were from fans greeting me on various social media platform. I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. I must’ve forgotten to turn off the notifications since I got the phone yesterday, so it was pinging like crazy right now.
With a sigh, I moved my legs to the side of the bed and forced myself into a sitting position. I stretched, yawning, and then sighed for the second time. I was sort of looking forward to sleeping in today but considering my phone seemed to be possessed with notifications and it woke me up, sleeping in was no longer an option.
I glanced at my six-year old daughter. She was wrapped in her pink corduroy blanket ‒ Mom’s gift for her when she turned one year old and she hadn’t slept without it since ‒ and I was a little jealous at how peaceful she looked. Sometimes I felt like my daughter could sleep through a war unfazed while I woke up at the slightest sound.
I did my usual routine in the bathroom then I picked up my phone and padded downstairs to the kitchen. Faith and I moved into the three bedroom house in the same neighborhood I grew up in when she was two and a half years old. At that time, I was at the peak of my YouTube career and immediately invested in my own house as soon as I had the chance.
When I got to the kitchen, my phone vibrated again and this time, it was a call from Vanessa. I immediately swiped to answer.
“Happy birthday, lovey!” My Korean best friend’s face filled up the entire screen as she wore a huge grin on her face.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of her. “Thank you, Nessa.”
“So did you finally think of having a small dinner party for your birthday with family or…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at me expectantly. Vanessa Ahn had been my best friend since high school and although we went our separate ways for college since she went to one in California and I stayed here in Florida because I was pregnant, we always kept contact.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, giving Vanessa a look. She, of all people, knew why I stopped celebrating my birthday. “Faith and I are going to a painting class today after school, and then I’ll have her help me with making dinner.” I pulled a counter stool out to sit on.
“Of her choosing,” Vanessa pointed out. “Katie, sweetheart, I know that you hated what happened to your birthday seven years ago, but that was seven years ago, and you had the best birthday present of your life since.”
I willed my mind not to think about my 18th birthday and the events that transpired on that day. “Which is why I’m celebrating it with the best birthday present I’ve ever had, Ness.”
Vanessa nodded her head, as if in understanding. “Well, since you’re clear for the day because it’s your birthday, then you enjoy it however you want. Just don’t forget to post a picture on Instagram, so your followers won’t think that you’re actually a grandma disguised as an influencer.”
I started a YouTube channel when Faith was about six-months-old. I was juggling community college, raising an infant, working part-time as a waitress, and then learning the ropes of starting a YouTube channel. From make-up tutorials to home-cooking and whatever baby food I made for Faith, my subscribers kept on adding until I reached a million on my first year and received my first paycheck after four months of being on the platform.
When I firmly told my family and Faith’s father that I intended to raise the baby on my own, I meant what I said. I got by with a little from my parents and older brother, especially financially. Since Faith was mine, I wanted to make sure I was able to provide her with the best life I could give her with the best of my abilities.
On Vanessa’s side, I could hear Moses barking at her, and I couldn’t help but grin when the brown lab popped by her side. “Looks like Mommy hasn’t fed you yet, right, Moses?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Want me to come by after dinner with soju and my famous fried chicken?”
I made a face but nodded. “Make sure you get here after Faith’s bedtime. I don’t want her hanging out with us while you’re getting drunk.”
Vanessa made a face and then hung up.
I made breakfast for Faith and I. Funfetti pancakes were Faith’s favorite, and she loved it every time I topped it with Ben and Jerry’s birthday cake ice cream. It was too many sweets for breakfast, and Andrew would strangle me if he knew I fed his niece this twice a year, but what my brother didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.
When I raised my cup of coffee, a small hand gently patted me on the hip. I turned to look at my six-year-old daughter, looking up at me with her honey colored eyes. If there was one thing I loved that she took after her father, it was her eyes. I loved how she always seemed to fill me with such hope whenever she looked at me.
“Happy birthday, Mama,” Faith said sweetly, handing me a piece of paper folded in half.
I stared at her in surprise because whenever it was my birthday, I usually spent it as if it was hers, so she never really greeted me and always seemed to forget. I took the paper from her and crouched in front of her, pulling her in for a hug and kissing her forehead. “How’d you know it was my birthday?”
Faith flashed me a grin, her two front teeth missing as she did so. “Auntie Mila told me yesterday when she picked me up from school, and we were meant to get you a card from Target but…but there weren’t any cute ones.” She pouted.
I looked down at the card and read what she wrote. ‘Happy birthday, Mama! I love you!’ I looked at her and pulled her close to me, kissing her nose. “Well, I love it. Thank you. C’mon, let’s have breakfast. I made your favorite.”
I led her to the breakfast nook we had in the kitchen. We had a formal dining table in the dining area connected to the living room that we only used if my parents were over. Usually, we ate our meals at the breakfast nook or the island counter. It was one of my favorite spots at the house but technically, too big for a single-mother and her toddler to live in.
“Why did you make my favorite when it’s you’re birthday?” Faith asked as I placed two plates filled with funfetti pancakes on the table.
I slid in the booth in front of her and topped her pancakes with the ice cream then watched her eyes dilate with delight at the sight. I smiled and winked at her. “You’re the best birthday gift I’ve had my whole life, so I gotta make sure that you’re happy. It makes my birthday extra happier which is why, we’re going painting today after school!”
Faith cheered and then she happily ate the rest of her pancake.
At that moment, Faith was most interested in art and I allowed her to explo
re that area first. I didn’t want to raise my daughter dictating to her what she should do as an activity. If she wanted to dance, play sports, do arts and crafts, or learn an instrument, as long as I was capable of enrolling her in a class, I’d let her do what she wanted.
I drove Faith to school after her shower then went back home to respond to birthday messages and post on Instagram. It was my duty as a social media influencer after all and although I wasn’t too keen on sharing my thoughts of what I wanted on my 25th year, it wouldn’t hurt if I shared at least some of with fans.
I ordered myself a quick lunch, squeezed in a bit of work for the design of the new merch to launch and then got back on the road again to pick up Faith from school. I stopped by Starbucks for a cooler and got one for Faith too, making sure I got her favorite strawberry blend.
My phone rang just as Faith got in the back seat.
“Happy birthday, dweebs.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Thank you, nerd, but you already sent me a birthday text at midnight, so this greeting is redundant.”
Andrew always made sure he was the first person to greet me a happy birthday. There were a lot of things my brother and I didn’t see eye to eye on but I always felt certain that he was the second best man in my life. Dad still being number one.
My brother was quiet for a little while on the line.
I wondered if he was busy at the hospital and only squeezed in a minute to call me to wish me a happy birthday. I opened my mouth to tell him to hang up when I heard him take a deep breath on the other line and let it out slowly, something he did when he was nervous.
“Don’t tell me the wedding’s cancelled,” I teased him. I remembered how much preparation Andrew put into proposing to Mila and he had nailed everything down to the very last detail. No one had any doubt that he wanted to marry her and I knew picking on his nerves about a possible worst-case scenario would make my brother nervous. “Mila probably realized there’s someone better than you out there. God, I’ve told her that for years.”
And I liked picking on my brother.
A low growl rumbled over the other line and I smirked. Point for Kate.
“You and Faith are having dinner at my place tonight.”
It wasn’t an invitation but an order.
I could hear the command in my brother’s tone and it made me pause. Everyone was aware of how I’d stopped celebrating my birthday with everyone else aside from my daughter. I’d made it clear with everyone… I had no intention of celebrating something that reminded me of how the world seemed to have turned their backs on me when all I needed was their support.
Granted, they supported me after I made the decision but it didn’t lessen the pain I felt for that day any less. Now, it was all a part of the past ‒ this much I knew to be true ‒ but sometimes, I remembered what happened and my heart still ached.
They say, pain and even grief started out as this big ball in a box. It continually hit the button inside the box because of its size but over time, it grew smaller and then it would start to bounce around the box. And sometimes, it would still hit the button when you least expected it to. This was what I felt for that day. “Andrew…”
My older brother sighed. “It’s not a celebration, Kate. We won’t even have cake or sing you a happy birthday. We didn’t even invite Mom and Dad.”
I knew if I said no, Andrew and Mila would bring the dinner to my house and come up with some sort of pretense as to why they were in the neighborhood. Aside from the late-night drinking I had planned with Vanessa for tonight, I wasn’t really in the mood to have any more guests other than her. “Alright. I’ll come but promise me that there’s no cake or any singing, Andrew.”
After that conversation with Andrew, I continued with the day I’d already planned with Faith. She enjoyed our art session like I expected and it was amazing to watch my daughter’s creativity on canvas. When I was younger and there were so many things I wanted to do but couldn’t, I swore to myself that I would make sure my child didn’t feel the same exasperation I’d felt.
However, as the day continued on and as I drove my daughter and I to my brother’s house, I could feel this impending dread. To say the dread was because I would be having dinner with my brother and his soon-to-be wife seemed like an exaggeration. This nagging feeling kept nudging me from the back of my mind, telling me I shouldn’t have agreed to the dinner in the first place.
When I parked outside of Andrew’s house, I noticed an unfamiliar car. For a moment, I wondered if it was a recent purchase but the car seemed too flashy to be either Andrew’s or Mila’s, as they didn’t really indulge themselves in that kind of luxury. I helped Faith unbuckle her seatbelt and held her hand as we walked to Andrew’s front door.
“Well, hello, shortcake.”
Only one person called me shortcake as an insult to my height. When I looked up at the man who opened my brother’s front door, looming over Faith and I, it became clear to me what the nagging feeling had been. It had been so long since I last felt this kind of familiar irritation triggered by one person.
My eyes met his green ones and I could see the mischief hiding in his gaze.
He leaned against the doorway, right shoulder resting against the door frame, arms crossed over his broad chest.
I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with a slap.
Ryan Bell. My brother’s best friend. The likes of him were the kind women should stay away from. Smart, attractive, and successful, the kind who set out to break hearts. Women should be wary when bumping into guys like him and I’d done well in the past seven years to stay out of their way. It had just been this one who’d been impossible for me to shake.
He spread his arms wide, as if expecting a hug from me. “It’s been years. Don’t I at least get a hug?”
“I’d rather give you an F-you, Ryan.”
2
Ryan
“Language, shortcake,” I teased as my eyes darted to the little girl standing by her side. She looked so much like Kate when she was younger. I was around thirteen or fourteen when I became friends with Andrew, so I met Kate when she was about eight and the little kid beside her looked so much like her except for her eyes.
I knew who the kid was before she even introduced herself. Andrew always spoke so much about her since Kate gave birth to the kid when we were in our third year in medical school.
“Hi! I’m Faith! I’ve never seen you.”
Glancing at Kate who still continued to glare at me, I crouched so I was within eye-level with Faith. “I’m your Uncle Andrew’s friend from San Diego. I’m sure he mentioned me. I’m Ryan.”
Faith shook my hand eagerly and then pulled me into a hug that took me by surprise. When we pulled away from each other, she was smiling brightly at me. “It’s nice to meet you!” Then she stalked off inside, skipping happily as she disappeared into one hallway and further into the house.
I turned to look at Kate who seemed to be frowning at the exchange I just had with her daughter. “You sure she’s your kid? She doesn’t have your personality.”
Kate narrowed her eyes at me and then pushed past me, not saying a word.
I watched as she disappeared where her daughter went and shook my head in amusement. I used to make fun of her a lot when we were younger because I always loved seeing her reactions. She was always so animated and vibrant as she always made sure I was aware that I’d pissed her off.
Lois, Andrew’s mom used to complain a lot about how Kate and I argued. Sometimes, it made me wonder if they would stop having me around because of the arguments I tended to end up having with Kate but they never complained whenever I came by and stayed for dinner or slept over. The Shaws were more of my family than mine ever was.
I followed Kate and Faith where they disappeared into Andrew’s house and found them in the kitchen. Faith was playing Jenga with Andrew on the dining table while Kate was chatting up with Mila while they continued to prepare dinner.
I moved
to where Andrew and Faith were, nudging Faith and pointing at one wooden square that would be easy to pull out but difficult if it was Andrew’s turn.
“I’m scared it’ll all fall over,” Faith whispered to me, leaning closer to me.
Andrew’s eyes flickered at Faith.
I couldn’t help but glance at the kid too.
She seemed so comfortable with me, leaning closely to where I just sat, half her body weight resting on my shoulder. “Do it for me?”
Faith looked at me and the hopeful look in her eyes tugged at me. I wasn’t into kids, because they always just seemed to run away from me. After my Dad remarried when I was sixteen and my step-mother gave birth to my half-brother, he always cried whenever I picked him up to cradle him.
During my rotation in pediatrics during my clerkship, it was hell for me too. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of a doctor, checking them up that scared the hell out of them or if it was simply me. I realized it was the latter when one girl literally screamed as she wrestled out of my grasp after I took her from her mother’s arms and shouted curses at me. It had been then when I realized that kids and I weren’t a good mix.
But here was Faith ‒ who I met about ten minutes ago ‒ looking at me expectantly and with hopeful eyes, her body leaning against me as if she’d known me her whole life.
I flashed her a smile and nodded. “Don’t worry, kid. I got you.” I reached for the piece I’d pointed out earlier and steadily removed it, knowing that if Andrew couldn’t find another piece to remove that wouldn’t cause the whole thing to topple over, Faith would win. When I successfully removed the piece and gently placed it on top, Faith and I simultaneously stepped away and cheered.
Andrew groaned and tried to find another piece that was easy to remove.
Small arms wrapped around my waist and I peered down.
Faith was hugging me, a big smile on her face. “Wow, your hand was so steady. Steadier than Uncle Drew’s!”