birthday gifts

Written for March Madness 2022, Prompt: Balloons. Comments and kudos would be awesome. Enjoy!


Nicole wakes to the heavenly aroma of Klawicki's chocolate chip pancakes. It's late – they let her sleep in, but the smell lures her out of bed and she finds her fathers are waiting in the kitchen for her. Balloons are absolutely everywhere: littering the floor, a few are floating over her chair, some small ones even adorn the bicycle table which is also sprinkled with confetti. There's a few presents there, wrapped with pretty sparkly paper and fussy ribbons. "Happy Birthday!" Michael and Joey exclaim, and a banner hanging from the cabinets proclaims the same in big, bold letters.

Some part of her has been dreading this day. While it is the first one she's spent with her fathers, it is also the first one she's spent without her mother and she doesn't quite know how to do that.

A little on edge, she claims her spot at the table, finds a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles waiting for her along with a fancy coffee from the café down the street.

"Thanks, dads," she says, even manages a smile. "This is great!"

They join her for a festive breakfast. They offer to take her and her friends out to dinner tonight to celebrate. They give her the presents. First a stack of cards from varying relatives - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Then there are few books from a series she's been reading, a stereo for her room and headphones to accompany it, and a few cassette tapes. Some of her favorite snacks, and…

A necklace.

She chokes up nearly immediately when she realizes just what it is, what it represents. In the center of the silver heart is her birthstone, diamond. Below that slightly bigger stone are three more. In the middle is her mother's, sapphire. To either side, and a little smaller, are Michael's, aquamarine, and Joey's, citrine.

She pulls both of her dads into a hug, holds tight for a long moment. "Thank you," she says again, this time she genuinely means it. Michael helps her put it on and she is unsure if she will never take it off or never dare to wear it. Nonetheless she clings to the charm, to this little representation of her family – lost and gained. "I love it."

"There's one more thing," Joey tells her, offering her the last wrapped gift, a large, rectangular box. When she settles it in her lap, it is quite heavy. "The Judge really helped us out with this," he explains. "She gave us the contact information for some of your mom's friends. We got in touch with them, asked them to send us copies of any pictures they had of her. A few sent letters and video tapes, a couple said to give you their numbers, said you could call anytime if you wanted to talk about her."

Floored once more, she pulls away the silvery wrapping paper. It's a photo album. She opens the first few pages and finds photos of her mom as a kid, as a teenager, as a young adult, as a mom. Pictures of her, too, when she was too little to remember, mostly, but a few she recalls. There's even one where her mom is on a sandy boardwalk with Michael and Joey on either side, the three of them all together. It's a picture she's never seen. The closest they'll ever get to a family photo.

"I don't know what to say," she says, the tears pricking at her eyes again and this time she lets them fall. She doesn't have much of her mother anymore. Just a handful of pictures she took with her when they took her away so this gift is amazing. "Thank you for letting today be about her, too," she says, unsurprised when she is pulled into another hug. "I didn't know how to ask for that."

"You don't have to," Michael assures her, his chin resting atop her head as he holds her close. "She'll always be a part of this family. We wouldn't be one without her."

Nicole nods against his shoulder, and decides that that's enough crying for now. Her mom would want her to enjoy her birthday. She feels a real smile on her face when she finally digs into her birthday pancakes. Now she's looking forward to the rest of her birthday.