Please tell me you've heard of the Beatles and the song "Hey Jude." Please?

She leans over and places a sweet kiss onto her son's round cheek as he reaches out to scoop a handful of whipped frosting off of the cake in front of him. She stops him with a warm smile and places a match to the unlit candles, illuminating them with tiny flames. She then places a birthday hat onto his wavy brown hair.

He stares back at her with his large, azure eyes and shows her a grin, but his two front teeth are missing. His mother smiles and kisses his head, ruffling his hair.

"Happy birthday, Julian," she softly whispers into his small ear, "make a wish and blow out the candles."

Julian's face lights up with another grin as looks across the table at the dining room to see all of his friends from school. He knows exactly what he'll wish for, and waits for his mother to snap a few photos before blowing out the five birthday candles perched on his strawberry cream cake.

Julian's mother smiles widely as she cuts the cake. "Hey Jules," she whispers her nickname for him that she gave him because of an original Beatles song, "what did you wish for? A brand new soccer ball and a CD?" Because that's what she bought him.

A mischievous smile leaks from Julian's lips. "No, Mommy. Guess again."

His mom finishes serving the cake. "A new bike?"

"Nope," he folds his arms. "Something better than that."

She doesn't pay much attention to what he wished for; she simply walks to the closet and pulls out his presents: a Nike soccer ball to practice in the fields after school, a kiddie tool set to "rebuild" broken furniture, a Beatles album, a small acoustic guitar, and a new lunchbox with his name on it—Julian Fallon.

His friends' eyes go wide in awe as they look at his shiny new presents.

Mommy leans over and whispers into Julian's ear: "The guitar was from Grandpa and Grandma, and the tool set was from Neha. You should write them a thank-you letter."

Julian grins wider as he fingers his gifts, leaving his cake uneaten on the table. He kicks the soccer ball on the carpet, "drills" a few plastic nails into a nearby table, strums a few strings on the guitar, and sticks his slice of cake inside his new lunchbox. His mother lets him be; he's only having fun.

Pretty soon, his friends leave and Julian sits on the carpet, listening to his new album with his mini CD player. He's singing along to the soothing voice of Paul and jams out when the beat suggests he should. His mother's leaning against the wall, her arms folded. She's smiling as she watches him.

Julian looks up and sees her standing there. "Do you want to know what I wished for, Mommy?"

She grins. "I sure do."

"I want Daddy to be watching my birthday party," he can only whisper, "because he didn't get to see it in person."

His mom swallows hard.

She remembers.

Julian doesn't.

But he knows.

She remembers everything: the seemingly hopeless mission, the sickening gunshots, the spew of blood, the blackness, the hospital, the final kiss, and the way her six month old son held his father's hand for the last time. She recalls every single detail.

"Natara," Julian whispers. "Natara Williams. That's your name now."

Natara shakes her head. "No, it's Natara Fallon. Just because Daddy's dead doesn't mean I have to change my last name."

Julian sighs. "I wish he could share my tool set with me. We'd have a lot of fun."

"I know," Natara kneels down and ruffles his hair. "I know."

He goes on. "He could share my cake with me. I didn't eat it."

"Why not?" Natara questions her son as he pauses his CD.

"Wasn't hungry."

"Are you hungry now?"

"No. I had pizza."

"That's right," Natara sighs and sits down on the floor next to Julian. "Daddy was watching you, Jules. He'd be proud."

Julian sighs again and eyeballs his presents, pulling out the lunchbox. He sees his name and traces the stitching over it, paying close attention to the name "Fallon."

Natara breaks the silence again with a deep exhale. She doesn't want her son's fifth birthday to be ruined by remembering bad times.

"Hey Jules," she whispers softly, even though no one else is there besides them. She just knows it soothes him, "don't make it bad."

Julian smiles and forgets about the subject he brought up a moment ago. Instead, a new thought pops into his head. "Tell me a story, Mommy. Please?"

Natara thinks of one. The only good ones she knows are The Three Little Pigs and Handzel and Gretel, Julian's heard those before. So she makes one up.

"Well," she begins, "once upon a time, in a far away land…"

Julian furrows his brow and narrows his cerulean eyes. "You're not going to tell me a sappy princess story, are you?"

This makes her laugh. Mal's touch, she thinks.

"No," she smiles, "now let me finish."

"Sorry," Julian apologizes and sits on her lap as she begins the tale.

"There once was a faraway land," Natara improvises, "ruled by a fair king named Malachi."

Julian grabs a nearby blanket and snuggles up close to his mom. "Continue!" he curiously pleads.

"That king had wife," she goes on, "named Natara. Natara was a fair queen, and she loved her husband very much. They had a son, too. But one day the king died…"

Julian gulps. He can sense the resemblance.

But Natara continues. "…so Queen Natara was very, very sad, and so was her son. Her son was a brave knight prince named Julian."

"Hey, that's my name!"

"Don't interrupt," Natara can't help but laugh, though. "Julian was well known around the kingdom for being brave. He had fought dragons, slaughtered serpents, rescued princesses…"

"Mom, you said you weren't going to tell me a sappy princess story!" Jules cuts in, crossing his arms tightly. Natara calms him down by giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'm not going to," she laughs, "just let me finish. Anyway, Julian the Brave was sad for awhile. He wouldn't do any of the courageous things he used to do. But because he was so brave and tough, not to mention strong…he recovered."

"Mom," Julian rubs his eyes with his fists and yawns, "what does recover mean?"

Natara smiles. "It means to become well again, and get back strength."

There is silence for a few minutes. Pretty soon, the only sound heard is the steady rhythm of Julian's soft breathing as he falls asleep.

Natara kisses her son's cheek.

"Hey Jules," she recites a few words from an old song she used to know, "don't make it bad."

Fun fact: Paul McCartney wrote the song "Hey Jules" for 5 year-old Julian Lennon to cope with the issue of his parents getting divorced. He later changed it to "Hey Jude."

Does anyone else (like me) love that song?

Lol and yes, Julian Fallon in this story was inspired by Julian Lennon. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Review? Por favor? S'il vous plait? Per favore? Palun? Vanligen? Please?