Lola’s fifth birthday was supposed to be wonderful.
I planned everything for weeks. Perfect touches, from the rainbow unicorn cake to the DIY piñata I labored on every night until she fell asleep. She called this her first “big girl” celebration, and I wanted her to remember it forever.
After dinner a week before the wedding, my mother-in-law Nancy grabbed me aside. She seemed extraordinarily nice. Too wonderful.
“You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart,” she added, holding my hand sympathetically. Peter and I decided you deserved some pampering. We booked your spa day! Relax—we’ll put everything up, and you’ll be back for the party.”
I blinked. “Really?”
Peter rubbed my shoulders too. Come on, babe. You’ve exhausted yourself. Give them permission. Lola would love seeing you beaming and rested.”
I hesitated. Was never adept at letting go. I was exhausted. I caved in despite my better judgment.
On party morning, Nancy led me to the door. “Just make sure the unicorn horns go on the cupcakes before the frosting dries,” I whispered.
She grinned only. “We have it under control, dear.”
The spa was lovely, but I never went. They booked me for a full massage, facial, mani-pedi, and scalp treatment. For the first hour, I relaxed. But after two hours, I was restless.
Something was off.
Maybe it was Nancy’s smile. Or how Peter avoided eye contact that morning. Maybe it was my motherly yearning to be near Lola on her big day.
So I departed early.
I went to the party store for the forgotten number five candle. I pulled into the driveway… my stomach dropped.
The home was empty.
Not music. No livestreamers. No balloons.
My hurry inside yielded nothing. No celebration. No cake, kids, or wrapping paper scraps.
Panic ensued. I grabbed my phone. Nobody missed calls. No text. Only silence.
My neighbor Mrs. Connors waved at me from across the street as I came outdoors, puzzled and half-dizzy.
“They already left for the party at that little café downtown,” she called. “Quite the crowd!”
Café?
We never planned a café party.
My heart racing, I demanded the address and drove like a madwoman. Static invaded my head—something was wrong.
Floored it townwide. My blood froze when I entered the café.
A two-tiered cake with sugar roses, pink balloons, and glittering banners. Lots of youngsters and unfamiliar adults were there. A clown juggled in the corner.
Lola in a pink dress I hadn’t chosen stood amid the crowd, confused and wide-eyed.
Peter stood behind her, beaming like it was his best day.
Unknown woman clung to his arm, physically leaning against him, nails manicured, lips too red for a kids’ party.
Just as I entered, they ignited the candles.
Everyone sang for Lola. She smiled while appearing overwhelmed.
Peter leaned in and kissed her cheek. The woman followed.
I stopped walking.
The balloons swayed, forks clanked, and the clown mid-juggle, yet everything inside me turned to stone.
Candlelight illuminated Lola’s face. Five years old. Beautiful. Beaming. She was unaware of her surroundings.
She didn’t understand why her father was holding another lady and her mother wasn’t at her birthday celebration.
My legs propelled me before I could stop. My hands shook, but my voice?
Steady.
“What the hell is happening?”
It seemed like all room sounds were gone. Juggler missed pin. A child cried beside the cake.
Peter froze like I smacked him. His hand hovered over Lola’s back, destroying his smile.
Nancy turned, stiff-faced. She opened and closed her lips like she regretted lying. Maybe she couldn’t decide which lie stung less.
Peter coughed, “Kelsey.” “You should have been at the spa.”
“I left early,” I said.
His temple vein jerked.
Nancy approached with a syrupy, low voice, like she was soothing a savage beast.
Kelsey, this isn’t what you think. You weren’t supposed here. This was planned to go well.”
“Smoothly? Without me? I requested. “Without her mother?”
It was then she did it. The woman. It was unknown to me. She grinned like nothing was wrong. Like attending my daughter’s birthday was dramatic.
Peter touched her back. Possessive. Casual. Wrong.
“This is Madeline,” he said calmly. “We’ve been together for a while, Kelsey. She wanted to do something special for Lola. New tradition.”
My intellect strained to comprehend. I didn’t understand why my spouse was acting normal being with another woman at our child’s birthday celebration.
“A new what?”
“A second birthday,” Nancy said as if it were the most reasonable thing. “So Lola can bond with her new mom.”
Vision clouded around the borders.
I advanced.
“She’s not a mother, especially not to my child,” I added, shaking. “She’s your affair, Peter.”
Peter bravely shrugged.
She’s in our life now, Kelsey. You should accept it.”
I wanted to smash the cake in his face.
I looked around at the decorations and visitors I hadn’t invited. Then I saw this woman in pink who fit in and Peter standing comfortably next her.
How long did this continue? I wondered.
Phil appeared at the buffet. A paper cup of lemonade in hand, watching football like a man.
The harshness made me sick.
Then Lola looked up.
My toddler initially didn’t see me since her pals were singing to her. Our eyes met. Little brows wrinkled, she ran.
“Mama!” she yelled. “You came!”
She dived into my legs, arms wrapped.
“Grandma said you forgot me.”
My heart shattered like glass.
I kneeled, hugging her.
“Don’t you ever believe that,” I whispered. I love you completely, my girl. Lola, I’ll never forget. My greatest love is you.”
“I missed you,” she whispered against my neck.
I looked up.
Peter was pale and blinking like he couldn’t believe what was happening. After losing her arrogant smirk, Madeline dropped her arm from Peter’s.
Nancy appeared limp with her hands by her sides.
No words remained.
“I’ll take her now,” I said.
“It’s not a big deal,” Phil murmured. “You should have stayed at the spa as instructed. Not surprisingly, Lola doesn’t listen. You don’t.”
You tried to eliminate me. On my daughter’s birthday. You let your son parade a family-destroying woman. I’m sick that you and Nancy approve of this behavior. You call this unimportant?
Lola slid her delicate fingers into mine as I went toward the door.
Sweet girl, come. Have your party at home.”
“Just you and me, Mama?”
“Just you and me,” I repeated.
I left with Lola without looking back.
We returned home as the sun set behind the trees.
I got out the cake I cooked the night before and Lola pressed herself to me. Chocolate with actual strawberry layers. Her fave.
She smiled at it, her cheeks still flushed from the party chaos and excitement.
“I like this cake more, Mama,” she murmured as I placed it on the table. “It smells like our kitchen.”
Lighting five candles again. No crowd this time. No cameras. Just us. She covered her eyes before blowing them out.
Did you wish? I asked, removing a crumb from her lip.
“I wished you’d always be here,” she nodded.
“That’s a promise, Lola,” I said. No matter.”
She smiled and rested her head on my arm. She fell asleep on my lap in minutes, still wearing the too-fancy clothing someone else chose.
Kissing her forehead and stroking her locks away from her eyes, I took her to bed. She was mine. Not even party decorations or visitors could change that.
I foil-wrapped a cake and went next door. Rachel opened the door in sweats and a topknot, wide-eyed.
“Kelsey?” She whispered. Is everything okay?
“This is for you,” I handed her the cake.
“You left quickly earlier. I thought something was wrong,” she responded, cautiously taking the gift.
Peter surprised Lola during a party. He brought his girlfriend. His parents agreed. They sent me to a spa to avoid interference. Happy birthday, Lola! Was snarky.
“You’re kidding,” Rachel exclaimed.
“I wish I was,” I whispered. “I had no idea…about anything.”
“What the hell, Kelsey?” My words sank into her, she mumbled.
“Right?!” Half-laughed.
We waited in silence as the weight settled.
“I’m divorcing him,” I whispered. “You can have more cake…”
“And I’ve got plenty of wine if you want it,” she shouted as I left.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I smiled.