The backyard was huge and had been transformed into a full-blown pirate fantasy. Cardboard ships, rope nets, kiddie pools, and a bounce house.
As we approached, a lump formed in my throat.
Julian tugged my hand. “Look!” He pointed, practically vibrating with excitement. “This is the coolest.”
“I see it, buddy,” I croaked.
Kids ran wild in costumes, dressed as tiny pirates with foam swords and eye patches. Vests and tricorner hats. One kid had a full captain’s coat that looked expensive.
Julian was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the details on the invitation suggesting guests dress in pirate theme, our dress-up box was in storage, and I wasn’t in a position to buy a costume.
The familiar creeping nausea hit me instantly, accompanied by the quiet voice that was so good at reminding me that I should have done more. That I wasn’t enough. I should have planned better, found a costume, hired a sitter. Figured out a way to be two people at once.
A cheerful woman in a pirate hat waved us over. “You must be Julian.” Assuming she was Jacob’s mom, I strode toward her. She was a smiling, bubbly blond woman, her demeanor kind and effortless, like she’d been dressed by tiny birds this morning.
“Yes,” I said quickly, sticking out my hand. “I’m Celine.”
“Sara.”
“And, um, I’m so sorry.” Heart in my throat, I gestured to the girls behind me. “I had to bring my two big kids. Single mom.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. As always, I was offering an apology no one had asked for.
“Of course,” Sara said, her smile only growing. “Join the party, girls. We’ve got plenty of pizza, and if you’re up for achallenge, I could use help keeping these kids in line during the scavenger hunt.”
Maggie lit up. Ellie, on the other hand, only nodded, her hands stuffed into the front pocket of her hoodie, scanning the yard for the best escape route.
Jacob, a boy I’d met a few times at school, ran over, grinning as widely as his mother had been. “Julian!”
Julian beamed, looking happier than I’d ever seen him.
And relief hit me. This was why we were here. Because my baby deserved friends. Deserved belonging and birthday parties.
He peeked up at me, seeking permission, and when I nodded, he took off after his friend, an eager golden retriever hot on their heels. I clutched the bag that contained Julian’s headphones and snacks, since he was unlikely to eat novel food at a party, mentally psyching myself up.
Parents, mostly couples and most I’d seen in the carpool line yet had never met, were clustered in small groups near the picnic tables, coffee cups in hand, laughing and chatting. As a few glanced over, smiling and waving, a kernel of anticipation joined the unease that wouldn’t die down completely.
“We’re fine, Mom.” Ellie leaned in, her arm brushing mine. With a concerned look on her face, she pried the gift bag out of my hand and took it to the folding table already overflowing with presents.
My chest was still tight, but I soldiered on. Julian was on cloud nine, the girls were doing okay. And no one here had even given me an unkind look.
Yet it still felt like I was standing outside the circle. Realizing these people were living lives I no longer had.
Or maybe never had in the first place, which was an even more depressing thought.
Exhaling, I pushed the negativity away. Then I forced a smile, straightened my shoulders, and followed Julian into the chaos. I would make this the best possible experience for him.
Because that’s all I could do. Show up.
Sara and her husband Will sure knew how to throw a great party. They’d set up craft stations, a pirate-themed ice cream bar, and a scavenger hunt that had probably taken weeks to plan. Despite my reservations, I found myself having a nice time pretty quickly. I met several of the parents, chatted about school, and learned way more than I’d ever want to know about youth sports in this town.
While the kids sat at a long table for cake and juice boxes, Julian joined them. He may have been eating the sliced cucumbers I’d packed instead of cake, but this was still a major milestone, and no one even mentioned the choice in snack.
Both girls had jumped in to help distribute cake and refill drinks, and Maggie had guided the kids at the treasure-chest decorating station with enthusiasm and kindness.
Every time I sought them out, my eyes would heat. I was proud of them and the love they had for their little brother.
“We’re gonna win this year,” a little voice said.
“Nope,” Jacob responded. “Me and my dad are. We’ve got a plan. I’m finally big enough to canoe with him, so we’re gonna win.”