He puts down the glass and spoon,
sticks a candle in a chocolate cupcake,
and lights it.
I look around for Jonah.
He’s in his chair.
For the first time,
Snorkel Man is keeping him company
when he’s awake,
instead of just at night.
Johnny sees me notice this,
comes up next to me
with the cupcake,
and whispers,
He was struggling a bit
this morning.
I can take it off
if you want.
He’s doing better now.
I shake my head no.
I don’t mind having
Snorkel Man
at the party.
It’s Jonah’s party, too.
He can invite
whoever he wants.
Machines aren’t going to
spoil my birthday.
Jonah’s friends
are my friends.
I hold my breath,
make my wish,
and blow out the candle.
Everyone yells yay and claps,
like they’re sure
my wish will come true.
Ring
Piper is in the kitchen
holding an empty plate.
She points to the platter
of deviled eggs.
Do you know how long
those have been sitting out?
It’s two hours max
at room temperature
for cooked eggs.
Piper doesn’t say what happens
after the two hours,
and I don’t ask.
Under the kitchen light
the yellow in the eggs
looks like dried-up Play-Doh.
Too long, is my guess,
I say,
and take the deviled egg off my plate
and put it back on the platter.
Those look good,
I suggest,
pointing to the big bowl
of blue chips.
They do,
Piper agrees,
then comes closer
and whispers
in my ear,
but have you seen
how many people
reached into the bowl?
I hang my arm over Piper’s shoulders
and try to walk in her shoes
for a moment,
to feel what it’s like
to see germs everywhere.
Let’s go listen
to the music,
I say.
Hunter sits in a chair
next to Jonah
playing his fiddle.
Dr. Kate listens to the concert
and eats a cupcake.
The glass doors are open
between the kitchen
and the living room.
We haven’t had
this many people
or this much food here
since Dad died.
Look what I found!
Little Lima Bean shouts,
as she crawls out
from under Jonah’s bed.
She holds up a gold ring
with three small birthstones,
one for each daughter.
Phoebe pulls Little Lima Bean
and the ring
into her arms,
kissing Little Lima Bean
and the ring,
one after the other.
Harmonica
I relight the candle
in my cupcake
on the stove burner
and bring it over
to Jonah.
I give Snorkel Man
a little time-out.
As I start the song
for my brother,
everyone joins in.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Jo-nah
Happy birthday to you
I bring the lit cupcake
close to Jonah’s face
and mine,
so no one can tell
whether it’s my breath
or his
that blows it out.
Is it time for presents now?
Don’t you want to open
your presents?
Pretty Parsley asks.
Pretty Parsley and Little Lima Bean jump around
next to two piles of wrapped boxes
and gift bags
stacked on the counter.
Someone has separated them
into a pile for Jonah
and a pile for me.
Sweet Sunflower reaches up
to touch the bows and ribbons.
Her purple bandanna
hangs around her neck
and she makes a whistling sound
when she breathes.
Eeeeech Eeeeech Eeeeech
like the wind
blowing through our old windows
during a blizzard.
My gift for Jonah first,
I say,
and take the Thriftee Thrift Shop
harmonica
out of my pocket.
Sorry I didn’t get to
wrap it, Jonah,
but it’s the thought
that counts,
I joke.
I thought you might want
to make your own music.
I hold the harmonica
to Jonah’s lips.
Breathe, Jonah,
breathe a big breath out.
Hum Hum
Jonah makes music,
and when he smiles
there’s no mistaking
his happiness.
Encore, Jonah,
I hold it to his mouth again.
Humm Humm
Hunter’s sisters applaud
and everyone claps with them.
When Johnny brings over
the first wrapped
present for Jonah,
he is asleep.
I slip the harmonica
into the front pocket
of Jonah’s shirt.
Good job, Music Man,
I tell him.
My Presents
This is from me and Sara.
She helped me pick it out,
Rainie says.
Rainie gives me a card
and a small package
the size of my hand,
covered in purple cloth
and tied with what looks like
bailing twine
but I’m guessing must be
hemp
or dried vines.
Underneath the cloth
is a white box,
the kind jewelry comes in.
Inside the box
is a stone
on a chain.
It is deep purple,
gray, and blue green,
depending on how I
turn it.
There are also flashes
of red and silver.
It reminds me of the river
at night
when the moon
shines on it.
It’s an iolite sunstone,
Rainie says.
Here, read the card.
I had forgotten
to open the card first,
the way Mom made
Jonah and me do
at our birthday parties
when we were little.
The card says:
“Dear Liv,
The iolite sunstone is a
‘stone of the heart,’ associated with courage,
great compassion, and bigheartedness.
I think this describes you perfectly.
Sara says it’s also thought of as a compass,
meant to guide you on spiritual journeys.
Always your best friend,
Rainie”
Mom was right
about opening the cards first.
I put the necklace on,
and when we hug,
Rainie’s stone of courage
and my stone of the heart
touch.
Mom’s present to me
is a new sheet set
for my bed.
The receipt is taped to it,
Mom points out,
in case you want to return it.
Why would I want to return it?
I say.
It’s perfect.
Piper and Justine
got me a gift certificate
to a hair salon in town,
and a bag of hair clips
and headbands.
Since you’re into
changing up your hair