My daughter’s seventh birthday was supposed to be a day of celebration until she blew out her candles and wished for something that silenced the room.
Moments later, she revealed what she’d found in her dad’s briefcase and left us all reeling.
I’m Marilyn, and my husband, Bruce, and I were so excited about our daughter Joyce’s seventh birthday. We wanted to make it a special day everyone would remember.
I put a lot of effort into planning the party, which we were hosting in our backyard. I ordered a large pink cake adorned with seven candles and decorated every possible area with festive balloons.
Yet as I moved around, greeting everyone and making sure the kids had snacks, both inside the house and outside in the yard, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
Joyce, my sweet little girl who normally lit up any room, had been unusually quiet all afternoon. Even as her friends arrived and excitement filled the air, she stayed close to me.
Her glittery princess dress sparkled under the light, but her face was subdued. At one point, when the party was in full swing, I knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to play with your friends?”
She shrugged, her eyes darting away. “I guess.”
“Are you nervous about all the people?” I asked. “It’s okay to feel a little shy.”
“I’m fine, Mommy,” she mumbled.
Bruce, my husband, appeared then with his usual easygoing grin in place. “Pumpkin, come help me get a game of tag going,” he said, clapping his hands together. “We need the birthday girl to truly have fun!”
Next came a fluffy unicorn from Bruce’s parents, which earned a polite “Thanks,” but no real excitement. Gift after gift, her reaction was the same: polite, reserved, almost mechanical.
I kept smiling, encouraging her, but inside, I was starting to panic.
When she finished, I clasped my hands together and tried to sound peppy. “Alright, everyone, time for cake!”
The kids cheered as we brought out the cake. Joyce climbed onto a chair at the head of the table and finally smiled at the seven candles flickering as if this moment was all she ever wanted in the first place.
My heart eased somewhat as people started singing “Happy Birthday.”
Bruce stood beside me, his arm brushing against mine, while I held up my camera to capture the moment after she blew out her candles.
“Make it a good one, sweetheart,” I said just as the song was ending.
“Then explain it,” I snapped, struggling not to yell. “Why does our daughter think you’re leaving us for another baby? And why was this in your briefcase?”
Joyce’s lower lip quivered as she looked between us. “Please Daddy,” she begged, her lip quivering. “I wished it, so you can’t leave us now.”
I went to her side and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I said firmly, stroking her hair. “Daddy’s not leaving us. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”
Everyone was still staring, so I gestured to my mother. She understood and took Joyce aside, encouraging everyone to get the party going again. Meanwhile, Bruce and I slipped off to our room.
Once inside, he sighed and sank onto our bed, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t know Joyce had found that,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t want anyone to find it.”
“For Pete’s sake! Just tell me what’s going on!” I demanded, crossing my arms and pacing around the room.
He hesitated once. “The pacifier belonged to an employee at work,” he began. “A woman named Claire. She passed away recently, and she was pregnant, it seems.”
I frowned. “Oh, wow. But why do you have this?” I held up the pacifier again.
Bruce looked away, and I felt a knot form in my stomach. But he quickly turned back to me.
“When she died, I had to go through her desk and fill a box with her things. I found the pacifier and the note. It was meant for her husband, I assume,” he confessed, rubbing his neck. “I guess she was going to surprise him with the news. But when I saw it, I didn’t know what to do. He came in later that day to pick up the box. Honey, he was so devastated. I just couldn’t bring myself to give it to him, to make everything worse. So… I kept it.”
I slumped on the bed next to him, exhaling loudly. “Are you serious? Why would you—” I paused, rubbing my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She is,” I agreed, standing. “All children are, actually. So, let’s go out there and explain everything.”
***
“Sweetheart, Daddy’s not going anywhere,” I said softly, after cornering my daughter in the backyard for a second. “He was just trying to help someone, but he made a mistake. We’re going to be okay.”
Joyce still looked worried. “He’s not leaving us for another baby?” she asked. “Charlie’s dad left for another baby.”
Bruce and I exchanged a look, understanding her wish better now. Charlie was a kid at her school who moved away because his parents got divorced… over an affair.
“No, kiddo,” Bruce said, emphasizing each word. “There’s no other baby, and I shouldn’t have kept the pacifier in my briefcase. I’m going to return it soon.”
I added some reassurances of my own, and finally, our daughter seemed to understand.
“Now, will you enjoy the rest of your party?” I asked, hopeful.
A tentative but truly genuine smile broke over her face as she nodded. A second later, she ran off to her friends, who luckily seemed unfazed by the issue with the pacifier.
By the time everyone left, I was drained.
Joyce fell straight asleep in her dress, surrounded by her presents. As I changed her into pajamas, I thought about having a talk with her the next day about rummaging through our things. But I wasn’t worried. She was a quick learner.
When I went back to our bedroom, though, I found Bruce staring at the pink pacifier clutched in his hand. I realized then that he was the one who learned a lesson about rummaging and taking people’s things.
I felt terrible for the family who had lost their future, and I knew he blamed himself for possibly making things worse. Therefore, later that night, I held him tightly, telling him everything would be alright when he returned the pacifier and apologized.
