“Guess everyone got busy,” he said.
His voice cracked on the last word.
I set the gift down on the sideboard because I did not trust my hands.
I had to swallow twice before I could speak.
“Nobody came?”
He shrugged.
“Your aunt Linda sent a text this afternoon. Her knee was acting up again. Uncle Greg had a thing at work. Jenna said she would try.”
“Try,” I repeated.
“She’s busy,” he said. “She has her kids.”
I sat down beside him.
“Grandpa, please look at me.”
He did.
His eyes were wet, but he was holding himself together with the kind of dignity that made my chest ache.
He patted my hand.
“Don’t be angry with them. People have their own lives.”
“You spent your life showing up for them,” I argued.
“Every play. Every graduation. Every emergency. You drove three hours through a storm when Uncle Greg’s car broke down. You paid Jenna’s rent when she got laid off. You sat in the hospital with Aunt Linda after surgery.”
“That’s what family does,” he replied.
“Then where is yours?”
He looked away.
I could tell that hurt him, and I immediately wanted to take it back.
I stood up and lit a single candle in the kitchen.
I took a deep breath and promised myself I’d still give him a good time.
“Well, two’s a party, Grandpa,” I said as I walked back.
“We’re cutting the cake,” I said.
“It feels silly with just two of us.”
“It feels right,” I smiled.
He nodded, smiling sadly.
“Happy Birthday, Grandpa,” I told him after singing the “Happy Birthday” song together.
“Make a wish,” I told him.
He closed his eyes.
He sat there for a long time.
Then, he blew out the candle.
I cut him the biggest slice.
We ate together while his phone buzzed with messages neither of us wanted to read.
While we were devouring the delicious chicken dish he had made, someone knocked on the door.
When I opened it, Mrs. Evelyn from next door stood there holding a peach cobbler.
“I didn’t want to interrupt the party,” she said cheerfully.
Then, she looked past me.
At the untouched food.
At the empty chairs.
At Grandpa sitting alone.
Her smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
She walked over and hugged him.
“Happy birthday, Walter.”
Grandpa thanked her, but I saw the embarrassment in his eyes.
She stayed only a few minutes.
After she left, the silence felt heavier than before.
Eventually, I handed Grandpa his phone.
“Aunt Linda says happy birthday with three heart emojis,” he read. “Uncle Greg sent a video of his dog wearing a party hat. Jenna says she’ll make it up to me next weekend.”
