Chapter 7 - Lily’s First Birthday
We celebrated Lily’s first birthday in our backyard. The weather was beautiful, the sun filtering through the green leaves of the maple trees. We kept the guest list small: Evan’s family, Jenna and her husband, my brother, and my father.
The yard was decorated with simple wildflowers and pastel balloons. There was no pressure, no performance, and no underlying tension.
Lily sat in her high chair, wearing a simple cotton sun hat and a big smile. When we placed a small smash cake in front of her, she didn't hesitate. She plunged both hands into the pink frosting and smeared it all over her face, laughing hysterically.
My father sat nearby, watching her with a warmth in his eyes I hadn't seen in years. He leaned over to me and whispered, "She is so happy. You are doing a wonderful job, sweetheart."
Just then, the mail carrier walked up the driveway and left a package on the porch. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the return address. It was from Carol.
Evan saw it too and quietly walked over to intercept it. He brought it to the side of the house, and I followed him.
"Do you want to open it?" he asked gently.
I looked at the box. Inside, I knew, would be some passive-aggressive gift—perhaps clothes that were intentionally too large or too small, accompanied by a card filled with thinly veiled barbs disguised as love.
"No," I said, feeling a sudden, powerful wave of clarity. "I don't need to open it. We don't need anything from her."
"What do you want to do with it?"
May you like
"Return to sender," I said. "Unopened."
We walked back to the party. As Lily blew out her single candle with a little help from us, I realized that the package on the porch held no power over me anymore. The boundary had held.
