Isaac

I watch Beth leave. Guilt floods me as I realize how harsh I've been. It isn't fair to take my anger out on her.

Looking down at Beth's gift, I wonder what she thought of me, complaining about no one remembering my birthday when she was in on the secret? I feel like a total jerk.

Sliding my finger under the wrapping paper, I open the present.

It's a brown, leather-bound scrapbook. I open it.

On the cover page, my name is written in fancy letters next to a baby picture I've never seen. I run my thumb over the chubby face. Happy, little ignorant boy with no clue what hell his mother was about to put him through.

I flip through page after page. I can't believe how much effort Beth has put into making the scrapbook. It's packed—photographs, ribbons, certificates, memorabilia, even a newspaper clipping featuring me on the honor roll.

There aren't many pictures of me as a baby or toddler. After I came to live with Gran, the pictures are regular. Every major holiday is recorded. Each photograph is labeled in Beth's neat handwriting.

I flip through to the end. I don't even know how she found all these newspaper and magazine articles about my nonprofit. I can't believe she took the time to do this.

It does look like quite a few items have been removed from the album. I wish I knew what she took out. I suspect it must have been anything related to our relationship. There's no prom pictures, no pictures of us together.

Flipping back to the middle, I pause at one of the pictures. It takes my breath away. Beth must have missed this one. We are sitting in her convertible with the top down and our heads thrown back, laughing. I remember this day vividly. Something inside me aches to go back to those simpler days, to do it over, to get it right this time.

It's the sweetest gift anyone's ever given me.

I am sick at the way I treated Beth. She deserves better.

I feel a sudden desperation to hide this scrapbook that houses a precious and secret life. I don't want anyone, especially Sophie, intruding on my past. I place the scrapbook under my jacket and slip outside to put it in the trunk of my car.

I can't shake what Beth just said. She called Sophie my girlfriend. Is that what she's claiming to be now? Sophie has instigated all the kisses, but to be fair, I haven't exactly discouraged them either. It's nice to feel wanted. Maybe I've let things go too far. I have probably given Sophie the wrong impression by not stopping her. I don't even know how serious I am about her. Do I want her to be my girlfriend? Sure she's attractive, and it's flattering she seems to like me. If I'm honest with myself, though, I'm not sure I want her arranging my life. Expecting me to be her arm candy at countless parties? Playing daddy to a hyperactive Snickerdoodle? 

In my defense, it's not like Beth has given me any encouragement. She's been so standoffish lately. I thought she might warm up to me in the ballroom, but Sophie's phone call ruined the moment. Then her reaction with Greg and the girl in the bikini was unnerving. She must have really cared for him to snap at me like that. It's not like her to get that upset. I can't keep following Beth around like a lovesick puppy forever if she isn't interested.

On the other hand, I was wrong about David's party. It seems it hadn't been Beth's aunt that convinced her to leave. Sophie told me that Olivia got sick, and I could hardly blame Beth for leaving to take care of her niece. I wonder what might have happened had Beth stayed, had we danced, had we reconnected. Maybe I would be with her instead of Sophie right now? Maybe. It all keeps going back to Beth's family, though. I don't know if she will ever break away, and honestly, I don't know if she should. On the one hand, they don't treat her as well as they should, but on the other, she feels like she's making a difference with her niece.

I have no clue what to make of this unexpected and intimate gift. Surely it means something, right? Beth had to know the reaction the scrapbook would cause, the memories it would stir up. And why now?

As I walk back into the house, Sophie finds me and drags me out to the pool to meet her friends. I am paraded in front of them all evening and am mostly bored out of my mind. The only thing that keeps me going is remembering what Beth said about how hard Sophie worked to put the party together. It may not be what I preferred, but it wouldn't be right to hurt Sophie's feelings.

I finally pull away long enough to sit down with Gran and enjoy a slice of her famous triple layer cake. She tells me a little scornfully it was the least she could do when Sophie had insisted on making coconut cupcakes despite my allergy. I laugh it off, but Gran is indignant. I know she doesn't like Sophie much, but she hasn't given her a chance yet. It doesn't help my case with Gran when Sophie comes over before I've finished my slice of cake to pull me away again. I put my foot down and at least finished the cake before joining Sophie.

I don't see Beth most of the night. She's clearly avoiding me, and I don't really blame her after the way I've treated her. I am ashamed by it. I know I need to apologize. At one point in the evening, I see her leave to take Gran home. At first I'm grateful one of us is able to take care of her. When Greg leaves with them, though, I feel antsy. I'm relieved when I see him return a short time later, looking a little disgruntled.

As the party winds down, I search out Beth. I find her in the kitchen rinsing off dishes. Her shoes are kicked off, her shoulders are hunched and she looks completely worn out. I stand next to her and take the dishes out of her hands and put them in the dishwasher.

"I'm sorry, Beth."

The only sound is swishing water and the clank of dishes in the dishwasher.

"I've been such an idiot," I say.

"You think?" she says quietly.

"You have to understand, Beth. For the first thirteen years of my life, Polly didn't celebrate my birthday. I didn't even know what a birthday was until I was in kindergarten. Back when I was living in Chicago, this kid brought in a big tray of cupcakes and we sang to him. I asked my friend what a birthday was and he looked at me like I was totally crazy. I went home that day and asked Polly when my birthday was. She had to dig up a birth certificate to figure it out."

Beth continues to wash dishes, but I can tell she's listening.

"Violetta changed all that. You remember those birthday parties she used to throw us? She would blow up a ton of balloons until they covered the floor. Her gifts were always so thoughtful. She always knew how to make me feel so special. So did you.

"While I was in Africa, I quit celebrating my birthday again. I didn't really see the point. With so many tragic things happening in the world, it just didn't seem important. Coming back, though, I've decided I miss those simple parties. Just you, Gran and me. I know Sophie meant well setting this up and inviting all these people, but I would rather have had something simple. A cake. A few friends. It's been torture spending my birthday evening pretending like I am happy to meet all these strangers.

"I totally overreacted, and I'm sorry."

I turn off the water.

"Isaac, what are you doing? I need to finish the dishes," Beth says.

"Later," I say. "You still haven't given me that dance you promised at David's party."

"You didn't need me. You had plenty of partners that night."

"I know you had a good excuse for leaving since Sophie told me Olivia was sick, but you did promise. Will you let me make it up to you?"

Beth dries her hands on a dish towel, tosses it onto the counter and turns to face me.

"I guess I did," she sighs. "I just don't feel like dancing. I don't want to face the crowds right now, or wearing those heels anymore. They're giving me blisters."

"I don't want to face the crowds either. Let's dance in here." I don't want to dance in the crowd, and I especially don't want to upset Sophie and cause a scene. This is the least likely place we'll be discovered.

"In the kitchen?"

"Why not?"

Beth looks conflicted. Just as I'm sure she's going to refuse me, she says one word that changes everything.

"Okay."

________________

Please hit that star and show this story a little love! <3

What did you think about little Isaac discovering what a birthday was by observing it at school? I have to think Polly must have been pretty strung out to not even remember his birthday and have to look it up on his birth certificate like that.

I was all, come here little Isaac and let me give you a hug. Something you may not be aware of. As a writer, I never think up my character's back stories in advance. I find they always reveal themselves as I write the stories, so the things I discover are a fresh and raw (and sometimes heartbreaking) for me as they are for you. 

If you get a moment, please listen to this song. It's Photograph by Ed Sheeran, one of my favorites and perfect to describe this chapter!

Dedication today goes out to @gabycabezut, whose fabulous book "Hopelessly Imperfect" was published and released yesterday! She is a dear friend here on Wattpad and I would love to see her have a lot of success with it. You can click on the dedi profile to sample three chapters, or head over to Amazon to snatch up a copy for a few bucks. My book arrived yesterday and I can't wait to dig in!