pretty baby // h.s

17 | a forgotten message.

a.

papa said to not come next week, for there is no reason to. he said that there wouldn't be any money to give and he would most likely not be home most of the time. he also told me to tell momma that he'll be working the weekends now and that i should just stay home.

he's planned on looking for a job, but with everything going on in the economy, getting a job and being able to keep it was nearly impossible.

i was worrying the whole weekend and i barely ate. i tried my best to busy myself with housework and other pastimes, but i couldn't shake the ill feeling in my stomach.

maybe it was a good thing that momma had me stay for my birthday. then perhaps i'll have one more day to say goodbye to harry. i don't know when i'll be able to see him again, with everything that's happened recently, there would be no safe place to meet.

i've been more cautious about people back in town seeing him—someone will eventually notice and see us together, but i can't let that happen. people in a small town got nothing better to do than talk. talk about everyone and anything. there are eyes everywhere and right now 'what happened to joey chambers' is the talk of the town.

i sighed. it was noon and i already packed up my things, without thinking about it. i hadn't even realized that i did until i noticed from the corner of my eye papa walking down the hall and passing my room.

the sudden realization that it was sunday hit me. i furrowed my brow and felt like i was forgetting something. i looked around to see if perhaps i had had missed something while packing, but didn't see anything. only then did my eyes land on the calendar in the corner of my room.

sunday, april 3rd, 1932.

oh. oh! my birthday's tomorrow. i need to tell papa the news about me staying a day longer.

hastily i left my room and walked down the short hall into the living room—only to find him dressed in his work uniform, a faded and worn navy jumpsuit, tying up his work boots.

"papa? where are you going?" i asked quietly, "why do you have your work clothes on? did you get your job back?"

i had held hope for a split second, but he looked up and gave me a tight smile.

"uh, no.. no. a friend of mine told me that his cousin's neighbor had a car that needs fixin' up. it's an older model ford, so i'm heading over to see what i can do," he spoke as he tied up the laces on his boots.

"oh."

"said he'd pay me a couple bucks if i could fix it. it's not enough but it's better than nothing," he huffed out as he stood up, "i'll need to save every penny i got."

"well, uh, i came out to tell you something–" i started but he had cut me off.

"before you do, i know i can't be there tomorrow for your birthday, so i want to give your gift to you now," he said as he walked by me into the dining room, and i followed suit.

there was a display cabinet with a few china plates and a matching tea set, both were covered with a thin layer of dust. other knick knacks and small items were in there as well. papa opened it up and pulled out a black box, hidden behind a plate.

it was flat and covered in small fuzz, like velvet. i hadn't noticed it before so i wasn't sure how long it been in there.

papa looked at the box in his hand as he walked back to me.

"i've been saving this for a while. i saw it in the department store the first time i moved here. what a wonderful gift it would make one day, i thought, for my girl. this is for you, auriella. happy birthday," papa said in a soft tone, and placed the velvet box in my hand.