Vanilla

Scary

And although the small, bespectacled bean was relieved that a teacher had validated this piece of knowledge, he had, the whole time, been putting on a brave front. It was at that moment that tears had welled up in his eyes and with his head lowered, fell in droplets onto his lap.

"But Miss Julie, is it okay to celebrate the day we come to exist? And if no one is happy that I was born?"

Julie was at once flabbergasted then; bewildered by the boy's unusual honesty and emotions that seemed a little too complex for a child so young. "My dear! How can you say that? Oh if only I had a child as clever as you, I'd be delighted. How envious I am of your mother. And of course, your father who picks you up every day."

"That's Uncle Al," the boy had said, wiping his tears with the back of his hand and sniffing once. "And my mommy isn't here anymore, Miss Julie."

Goodness! Julie could not have tripped on a heartstring as dangerous as this one and despite being the full-grown adult that she was, there was absolutely nothing she could think of to say in a conversation like this—be it with a child or any other adult.

"Birthday parties are scary."

Ah the words he'd said that day, it plagued her even now. How quietly he'd cried and how different it sounded from the rest of the kids at the nursery, who had yet to grasp the concept of hiding one's sorrow and here, a boy of the same age—far ahead! The number of times she'd decided to reach out to his uncle had increased at once and how oddly close they soon became.

Then, months later after he'd proposed and now living together, she'd seen him grow to understand the concept of a family. What with her and Alfred married and Chip being his godfather, Vanilla seemed that little bit more whole than he was before. She'd heard from the teacher of Vanilla's new class that he'd progressed to spending some time outside at the school's playground but she wasn't sure if his opinion of birthday parties had changed. Hence the dilemma.

"What's the fuss?" Alfred had brushed it aside as soon as Julie had come to him with the birthday proposal. "The party can be extravagant. We'd have you and me surprising him at a lavish hotel dinner and then an exquisite cake from Chip's! I've been eyeing one of his new collections. That white peach cream c—"

"Alfred!" His wife tugged on his ear. "That's the exact same thing we did last year and yes, the cake can be from Chip's bakery but we're not having another boring party with just the two of us again," she snapped. "Not to mention, you aren't the most entertaining person on earth. You know that, right?"

Uncle Al had spluttered a defensive statement that soon fell apart in the face of Julie's treacherous glare. It was something he could never stand up against; he was coincidentally also weak to ear-tugging and being termed as 'boring' only because it was the honest truth. He went through the proposal once more.

"I suppose we could invite Chip and his family as well. That would add a total of three to the number."

"Four," corrected his informant. "Have you forgotten about Miki? They'd adopted him quite recently. And what about having your mother over as well? Vanilla loves her chicken tikka masala and I'm sure she wouldn't mind travelling."

"We could ask." Alfred had picked up his phone at once, but Julie reached out an arm, preventing him from doing so.

"Everything has to be done accordingly. Invitations must be sent, Alfred! Not some... measly text. Imagine how exciting it would be for Vanilla. Sending, or even giving out invitations—at school, I mean. That boy who let him play over at his house while Vanilla was waiting for me to pick him up! Or maybe others too. Ah, this is so exciting."