Chapter 9 - THE GIRL WHO WANTED A NORMAL BIRTHDAY
Annie turned eight on a Saturday.
Victor wanted to organize a celebration.
He imagined balloons.
A magician.
A giant cake.
A room filled with presents.
But when he asked Annie what she wanted, she surprised him.
“Can we have pancakes?”
Victor smiled.
“Of course.”
“And strawberries?”
“Yes.”
“And Mom?”
He looked at her.
“Mom will be there.”
Annie considered this.
Then whispered:
“And you?”
Victor's heart tightened.
“I'll be there.”
She smiled.
“That's enough.”
So they celebrated in Catherine's small apartment.
Jimmy, the neighbor who helped repair bicycles, brought a handmade wooden bird.
Annie's teacher sent a card.
Brian Smith arrived with his wife and a small bouquet of flowers.
Catherine baked a cake.
Victor made pancakes.
Badly.
The first batch burned.
The second stuck to the pan.
Annie laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair.
“Dad!”
Victor stared at the ruined pancake.
“I think it's supposed to look like that.”
Catherine laughed.
“No, it isn't.”
He smiled.
For a moment, the apartment felt warm.
Ordinary.
Happy.
After breakfast, Annie opened her presents.
Then she handed Victor a drawing.
He stared.
Three people stood beneath a yellow sun.
A little girl.
A woman.
A man.
At the top were the words:
MY FAMILY.
Victor's eyes filled.
“Annie.”
She smiled.
“Do you like it?”
He nodded.
“Very much.”
She looked at him.
“Can we be like this?”
Victor swallowed.
He looked toward Catherine.
She stood beside the kitchen counter.
Her eyes were wet.
Victor turned back to Annie.
“We're working on it.”
The little girl nodded.
“Okay.”
Then she hugged him.
Later, after the guests left, Catherine stood beside Victor on the balcony.
The city lights shimmered.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then Catherine said:
“She was happy today.”
Victor smiled.
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“Thank you.”
He shook his head.
“You don't have to thank me for being her father.”
Catherine studied him.
“Three years ago, I would have.”
Victor looked down.
The words hurt.
But he accepted them.
After a moment, Catherine continued.
“I still don't know what happens to us.”
Victor nodded.
“I understand.”
She looked toward the apartment.
Annie was asleep on the couch.
Her new wooden bird rested beside her.
Catherine whispered:
“But I want to try.”
Victor turned.
His eyes widened.
“What?”
She looked at him.
“Not because of the money.”
He nodded.
“Not because of your mother.”
“I know.”
She took a breath.
“Because Annie deserves parents who can speak honestly.”
Victor's eyes filled.
“And because maybe we deserve another chance too.”
He stared.
Then whispered:
“I'd like that.”
Catherine nodded.
“Slowly.”
He smiled through tears.
May you like
“As slowly as you need.”
And for the first time in three years, Catherine reached for his hand.
