Izzy had asked for a tea party like they had in England, so Delia had ordered scones and petit fours online. She would serve sandwiches cut into little triangles. The living room would be decorated with streamers and balloons.
The waffles popped up. She placed them on a plate, topped them with sliced strawberries and a generous squirt of canned whipped cream.
“Syrup, too, please.”
She set a bottle of Log Cabin on the table and stifled a grimace as her daughter doused her breakfast. She’d had way too little sleep to stomach food this early. “Tell me again who you invited to your party?” She needed to know how many chairs to set around the play table.
“You, Bubbles, Jessica, Emma and Emily, and the angel.”
Bubbles was Izzy’s teddy bear, Jessica her favorite doll, and Emma and Emily were imaginary identical twins her daughter had “met” after leaving her friends behind in Pittsburgh. The angel was a new one.
“Oh, we have a last-minute guest?” She reminded herself many kids had pretend friends, but she would be glad when school started in the fall and Izzy could meet some real children.
“Uh-huh. His name is Wynn. But I call him Angel.”
“He? A boy angel?”
“Angels can be boys.”
“Of course they can.” Until now, all the imaginary friends had been girls.
“I asked him if he knew Daddy, but he said he’s never met him.”
Josh had been killed in a traffic accident when Izzy was five months old. Delia had done her best to keep her high school sweetheart and husband alive in memory and in heart, placing photos around the house and sharing stories about him.
“Well, Heaven’s a big place,” she said.
Josh had adored his baby daughter, and he would have been thrilled to see what a bright, beautiful, imaginative child she’d become. He’d been robbed. She and Izzy had been robbed.
The world had lost a good man.
“Oh, he’s not from Heaven. He’s from Dakon. I think that’s in Washington,” she said, her whipped cream-smeared face perfectly serious.
The stuff her daughter came up with! Although her imagination sometimes concerned her, Delia was proud of Izzy’s cleverness. Dakon, Washington? What detail!
Very specific detail. She frowned. New to this part of the States, she’d never heard of Dakon. Her heart stopped beating. What if this angel named Wynn wasn’t make-believe? Izzy spent her time at home or at Mrs. Beckman’s, so she shouldn’t have been able to meet anybody Delia didn’t know about, but after what had happened with Colson… “Sweetie, your angel is like Emily and Emma, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is he pretend, or is he a real person?”
“Oh, he’s real!”
Her pulse skyrocketed. “How old is he? Is he a grown-up?” Please let him be another kid.
“Oh, yeah. He’s old.”
Don’t panic. “Tell me more about him.”
“He has wings out to here!” Her daughter spread her arms wide. “He has feathers, but they’re sharp. And he can fly fast. He wears a cape, too. He’s like Super Angel!”
Not real. She exhaled her relief in a whoosh that Izzy hadn’t been approached by a pedophile, but that still left her concerned about the imaginary friends. Had her daughter lost the ability to distinguish between make-believe and reality? Maybe it had been a mistake to humor her fantasy life.
“That means not real, Isabella. You scared me half to death. Your angel is pretend like Emma and Emily.”
“No, he’s real, Mom! He’s coming to my party, you’ll see.”
She rubbed her eyes, gritty from lack of sleep. For the hundredth time, she second-guessed her decision to pull up stakes in Pittsburgh and move to a town she’d visited only once. She’d believed she’d been doing the right thing to keep Izzy safe, but back home her outgoing daughter had been happy and thriving. Having just finished kindergarten, she read at a third-grade level. She’d had many friends. Live, real kids.
They had to have a serious talk.
But not on her birthday. She couldn’t ruin this day for her. She would proceed with the tea party for Izzy, her dolls, and the imaginary friends. But after today, Izzy’s “friends” might not be invited over anymore.
* * * *
“Can I come out now?” Izzy yelled from the bedroom.
“Not yet! Couple more minutes!” Delia swatted at a helium-filled balloon that floated into her way, pushed the thumbtack into the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, and climbed off the stepladder. The sign was a little lower on the right than the left, but Izzy wouldn’t notice.
She stowed the ladder in the garage then dashed to the kitchen to bring out the food: tiny peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches, egg salad sandwiches—mostly for her—some raisin scones, and pretty pink petit fours. She filled a teapot with fruit punch and then arranged the food on the tiny table set for six with delicate china teacups and dessert plates she’d picked up at the antique store in Argent for cheap.
“Now? Can I come out now?” Izzy called again.
“Two minutes!”
“That’s what you said the last two times.”
Darn kid remembers everything. “Just a little longer!” Delia grabbed Bubbles the bear, snapped a tiny party hat on him, and plunked him in one of the kid-sized chairs. She put Jessica the doll next to him and stuck a hat on her, too. She set two more pint-size hats by the places set for the invisible Emma and Emily, a big hat where she would sit, and the biggest, fanciest hat at Izzy’s place.
She stepped back and surveyed the living room. Wrapped presents on the side table, check. Guests present and accounted for, check. Food, cake, balloons, birthday banner—check, check, check, and check. One task remained—retrieve the surprise present.
“Okay! You can come out now!” she yelled.
Izzy ran into the living room and skidded to a stop. Her eyes danced at the sight of the decorations, the table setting, the presents. “It’s beautiful!” She threw her arms around Delia. “I love you, Mom!”
“I love you more. Happy Birthday, sweetie.” She kissed her. I promise next year you’ll have a real party with real kids. I’ll make it up to you. “Let’s sit down and have some lunch.”
“Tea,” Izzy corrected.
“Right. Tea.” Technically, it should have been served later in the day, but it fit in better with their meal schedule to have it at lunchtime.
Izzy started to sit but then froze. “There aren’t enough seats.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are only six chairs. Where is Angel going to sit?”
“Can’t he sit there?” She pointed at a vacant seat.
“Emily is sitting there.”
“We don’t have extra chairs. Your play table only came with six.”
“Then he can sit here.” She grabbed Bubbles, removed his hat, and tossed him on the sofa.
Apparently her daughter had established a pecking order among her toys and invisible friends. A pretend angel ranked above a teddy bear.
Izzy took her seat and donned her hat.
Taking care not to bump the table with her knees, Delia sat and put on her hat.
Her daughter picked up the teapot and said in a formal tone, “Would you care for tea, Delia?”