Chapter 13 - Noah’s redo
Noah wanted the redo two weeks later.
Seven children.
No thirty-seven guests.
No champagne.
No Arturo.
No Lucía initially.
Sofia?
He waited until the night before.
“Can she come?”
“Do you want her?”
“I think.”
“Why?”
“She said sorry.”
“Is that enough?”
He shrugged.
“I want to see.”
That was surprisingly wise.
Sofia came.
No bucket.
No elaborate apology performance.
She brought a small astronomy book.
Not expensive.
No attempt to buy forgiveness.
She stood in our kitchen.
“Hi.”
Noah stared.
“Hi.”
“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.”
“You got paid.”
“Yes.”
“Did you spend it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I felt gross.”
He considered.
Then:
“Did Grandpa tell you I’d cry?”
Sofia swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then why did you do it?”
There was no good answer.
She gave an accurate one.
“Because I cared more about Grandpa thinking I was funny than about how you would feel.”
Noah nodded.
“Okay.”
Then:
“You can stay.”
No hug.
They joined the others.
Cake.
Candles.
No mud.
When Noah leaned forward, I held my breath.
He blew out all ten.
Everyone cheered.
He looked at me.
“See?”
I smiled.
“See what?”
May you like
“Birthday.”
Right.
