Two strange things happened that day.
First, I woke up to the smell of something delicious and the overly bright smiles of my parents as they served me breakfast in bed. Not just any breakfast, my favourite combo. Crisp bacon and eggs, a huge heaping of waffles, and pancakes dripping with maple syrup. They even remembered to place the pancakes sunny side up. Just the way I liked it.
You might wonder why this gesture that is normal in the average American home is so strange to me. It’s no secret. In all sixteen years of my life, or at least, as long as I can remember, my parents have not as much as kissed me goodnight or even more impossible, made me breakfast. Most times I even woke up to an empty house and stick-up notes on the fridge to remember to load up the dishwasher before leaving for school.
So, what is happening?
“What is going on?” I said, not bothering to mask my suspicion.
“Nothing dear, why ever would you think there’s an issue with your parents making you a meal?” This statement was made by my mum of course. Dad just had a bright smile plastered on his face the whole time.
I didn’t respond and took a dainty bite of the waffles. And unconscious sighed. Who knew mum could even cook like this? That’s right. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve eaten a homemade meal. “Well?” I looked up at them. “Are you going to just watch me eat?”
Dad smiled, ruffling my head and walked out with mum in tow. I facepalmed, already regretting being rude. For all I know, some miracle must have happened overnight and they suddenly decided to be good parents. But I guess I shouldn’t give them a hard time.
I dressed up for school after eating ravenously. No way would I let this one-time meal go to waste. As I went downstairs, the next strange thing happened. Dad announced that he would be dropping me off at school. Even in middle school, I always walked the distance to school. Why were they doing this?
What in the world was HAPPENING?
The drive to school was awkward at best. Dad tried so hard to keep the conversation cool. Asking about school, my grades and dance classes. He even wanted to bring up boy issues but my warning glare told him that he was going way too fast. Imagine not being in on your only child’s life all these years and suddenly you want to know everything.
School went by in a blur. I floated in and out of classes in my usual, invisible way. When it was time to go home, I saw dad standing outside, smiling and waving at me. I knew my intended smile must have ended up as a grimace because dad’s smile dropped. I got into the car and he kept chatting animatedly. I tried to reply as happily as I could but my smiles were strained and the tension in the car was palpable.
I got home to a darkened lounge. “Dad, what’s going….”
“Surprise!!!” Lights from everywhere came on and I saw my mum smile gesturing at the large cake on the table. “Happy birthday, my little pumpkin.”
Oh my God, I couldn’t believe this. I was speechless as they kept talking. I received everything with a tight smile, fighting not to let my emotions show.
While we sat at the dining table spread with all sorts of delights. The mood grew serious and my parents announced that they had something to tell me.
“We’re getting a divorce.” Mum said. “And before you say anything just know that this doesn’t have anything to do with you as a person. We love you so much but we’re not just right for each other. And we hope that even if you don’t see it, you try to understand that it’s for the best.”
I started laughing. I laughed so hard till it gave way to tears, and then bitter tears also followed.
“You couldn’t even wait right?” I said, my eyes blurred with tears.
“The first time, my parents ever show any attention to me and they’re completing the day with a divorce.”
“Darling we –"
“Let me finish!” I said with barely contained anger then added “Please, just let me finish.” At their collective nod, I continued. “I feel so sad that you could do this to me and even if you don’t know, no parent should announce such news on their child’s birthday. And look at you, doing all of this, but my birthday was three days ago. Three whole days ago! What parent forgets their only child’s birthday?”
To say they were mortified would be an understatement. But I’d seen enough. I stood up, took one long look at them and walked silently out the door.
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