You know what I find impressive? The sheer determination and willpower that's displayed when someone is left scrambling last minute to throw together a birthday party. I was just walking along, listening to my Taylor Swift when I saw Mr. Purdy tear into his driveway with a backseat full of balloons. I couldn't help but laugh a little watching him wrestle them out of the car and into the house. I hate to say it, but it is a little funny seeing a normally very cool and collected Mr. Purdy attempt to organize a birthday party. Something about it really sends him into a tizz.

He definitely sees me giggle a little when a few make a break for it and escape to freedom into the clouds. He shoves them angrily through the front door and slams it shut like he's trying to stop an avalanche.

"Goddamn," he says as he looks over at me. I think he sees the humor in it too, but he laughs at himself and shakes his head.

"Do you need help?"

"No, no," he says at first, just like he always does.

"Really, I don't mind. I can call in reinforcements."

Mr. Purdy hesitates, but then out of the corner of his eye he sees a rogue balloon inching towards the open window. He leaps over to it and shuts it close, but the balloon gets caught right at the right time and pops with a loud bang. Startled by the noise, the kids scream inside. He rubs his forehead and surrenders to the balloons.

"Yes, can you please."

"You got it!"

I hop to my feet and send out the bat signal to the crew and within minutes, we're all at the Purdy's house hanging streamers, laying down tablecloths, fluffing pillows, and frosting cupcakes.

"To the left, Teddy, the left! No, that's too far. Bring it back to the right," Whitney instructs Teddy as he stands on tiptoes, inches away from stepping off the chair he's standing on.

"Dammit, Whit, make up your mind!"

"I have made up my mind! It's supposed to be in the middle. It's not my fault you don't know where the middle is."

"Well, it ain't my fault you don't know how to give proper directions."

"All right, you two need to split up," Mr. Purdy quickly steps into gym teacher mode before it escalates further. We all know how this goes. "Bridgette and Whit, you two switch. Bridgette, you're on streamer duty. Whitney, you're on cupcakes with Kiersten and Sal."

Whitney huffs a bit, but does as she's told, picks up a butter knife and gets to frosting. After the switch, things really start to get in the groove and everything is running along. That is until we realize Mr. Purdy left his phone in the kitchen. He has an incoming call. We think nothing of it. I casually glance over. My eyes widen when I see who it is. Emily.

"Omg," I say, drawing Sal and Whitney's attention to me.

I can't quite bring myself to say it, so I pick it up so they can see the screen with a very prominent "yikes" on my face. Their jaws drop.

"Ugh," Whitney scoffs. "Ignore it."

"What if it's important? Matt could be hurt or something."

"Like she'd care. She'd probably just tell him to put a band-aid on it."

"Kiersten's right. We have to tell Mr. Purdy. He'd want to answer."

"She can leave a message."

The debate continues until Mr. Purdy pops in to see how we're doing. He notices something is off right away and sniffs it out.

"What's up?"

The three of us exchange glances. None of us want to be the one to tell him. Ultimately, I know it's up to me.

"Uh, you have a call.."

He looks confused at first and slowly grabs his phone. As soon as he sees who it's from, he doesn't hesitate to answer. He leaves the room and it's quiet at first.

"Wait. What?"

He doesn't quite shout, but there's anger bubbling beneath the surface of those words. The whole room stops what they're doing. We all notice, himself included. He looks around at the now captive audience. Before saying anything else, he slips into his bedroom and closes the door. I think we all know the right thing to do is go about our business, but it seems far too serious and we're far too curious. And, the conversation only gets more heated. We only hear bits and pieces, but the one-sided argument alone is enough to tell the story.

"Are you insane, Emily?! What the hell were you thinking making a promise like that?  ...Of course, he's disappointed! He misses his family, he misses his friends. The poor kid was heartbroken over being away from home for Drew's birthday, you gave him hope and then you tore it away!!...What the hell do you expect me to do?! It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon. The party's tomorrow, I got the kids. I can't come get him. You promised him you'd take him home, you need to get him home..I don't care about your fucking clients, Emily! What about your son?!.."

At this point in the argument, our senses come back to us. We look around for the kids. We need to get them out of the house. They should not be hearing this. I manage to grab onto Carrie and Marcie, but Drew takes one look at what's happening and bolts into his room. He doesn't want to be shooed away. He wants to stay and listen.

I give a quick nod of my head to the crew. Without saying a word, we come up with a plan. They take the girls down the street to the playground, I take care of Drew.

"Drew," I say, knocking on his door. "Open up, buddy, come on."

I hear him quietly talking. To himself? One of his friends? I don't know, but it concerns me.

"Drew."

I jiggle the door knob, but it doesn't budge. I try a few more times, but by that time, it's too late. Mr. Purdy stops yelling. The house grows quiet. The argument is over. Slowly, he emerges from his room, defeated, exhausted, and embarrassed.

"How much of that did you hear?"

I hesitate to answer, but I don't want to lie to him.

"Um, like pretty much all of it."

He lets out a huge sigh and shakes his head.

"I gotta go get Matt," he breathes out, grabbing his keys. "I gotta call my parents to watch the kids. God, I don't know how I'm gonna make it there. We're gonna have to drive all night. What time's the party?"

"10:00am."

Another deep, heavy sigh and a wave of insurmountable defeat washes over him.

"I can't reschedule the party. Drew's been looking forward to this for weeks. I'm never gonna make it. Goddamit, I can't be late to my own kid's birthday party."

I stand there, frozen. My heart breaks. For Matt, for Mr. Purdy, for Drew. I want so badly to help, but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing any of us can do.

"I have it handled," Drew says out of nowhere with a suspicious amount of confidence.

"What?"

"Miss Chloe's going to bring him."

He says it so nonchalantly and matter-of-fact, it's, omg, it's baffling. Mr. Purdy, equally as baffled, stares at Drew with the most confused look.

"Huh?"

"She's there now visiting family. In Louisiana, I mean. She was heading home in a couple days anyway, so she said she'd leave a day early and pick him up on her way back."

"Drew, that's.." he struggles to find the words. Again, really, and truly, just baffling. "You can't ask someone to put themselves out like that. It's too much."

"But she wants to, Dad."

"Buddy, no woman wants to pick up some guy's kid and drive him 6 hours to a birthday party. Give me her number, I'm gonna call her back."

"She agreed to it! She wants to come!"

"Of course she agreed to it! Who's gonna say no to a little kid asking to see his big brother on his birthday?"

They're at a stand still. Both of them are silent. Drew's eyes well up and Mr. Purdy's breath gets caught in his throat. Mine does too. I swear, we both stop breathing. Whatever comes next is going to be a punch to the gut, I feel it.

"Miss Chloe cares about me. She doesn't even know Matt. She's never even met him. And you know what, Dad, she's already on her way. Can you say the same about her?"

Mr. Purdy turns his head and looks down at the floor. A sure fire sign he's trying to hide his own tears. He doesn't have to say her name or anything at all. We all know the answer.

Mr. Purdy swallows hard. His voice is shaky and it's cracked, but he soldiers on, just like he always does.

"Okay," he says quietly. "I'll, uh, call Matt and let him know."