Vol. 1: Fifty (Pt. 1)

+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +

VOL. 1: CHAPTER FIFTY Pt. 1

My eyes open, slowly adjusting to the sunlight peeking through my curtains. My head lulls around to the other side of my pillow, softly smushing the cloudy texture. The smell of blueberry pancakes fills my nose, the smell causing my heart to almost skip a beat.

It never failed. Every single birthday of mine had began with my mother making me a stack of blueberry pancakes to kick off the day. I'm not so sure why I expected this time to be different. My mother's footsteps is all that is to be heard throughout the long hallway. Well, her and Toro's.

Toro is whimpering, most likely from my mother not sharing any of the pancakes with him. "Sh!" She hushes him, causing a whine to leave his snout. And I wonder how long it'll take her to bust open my bedroom door.

Not even a minute later, my door is pushed open, revealing my smiling mother and more than excited dog. Toro jumps onto my bedspread, causing me to groan. "Dude, you're dirty." His tongue hangs from his mouth, obviously not paying much mind to my very white and clean blanket.

"No, he's not," my mother scolds. "I gave him a bath yesterday."

My eyebrows raise in suspicion. "Mom, he's brown." I point to our usually white dog.

"Oh, never mind him," it's only then that I realize she's holding the stack of pancakes in his hands, shoving them toward me. "Happy birthday, darling!"

Her words are shouted, causing me to retract slightly from the intensity. She continues. "Here, you can eat these in bed—don't say I never gave you anything—and I have a lovely, lovely surprise for you downstairs when you're ready." She finishes off her sentence with a frightening smile so big I'm almost certain her cheeks are hurting.

"Thank you, momma," I lean in to land a kiss on her forehead, causing her smile to widen even more. "I'll be down there in like twenty minutes."

She and Toro flee my room, leaving me with my birthday breakfast. It doesn't take me another minute to dig in. I spend the rest of my twenty-minutes or freedom showering and getting dressed in a pair of clothes that aren't too flashy, but also not too modest because hello—it is my birthday.

And there's a possibility that I'll be seeing a certain someone later this evening. But I tried not to think about that as much.

I greeted my mother with another hug once I descended down the staircase, carrying my now empty plate into the sink.

She sits idly near the kitchen table, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she flips through her Sunday magazine. Coffee is already brewed and poured into my mug. I take a sip from it, smiling at the familiar taste.

Taking the empty chair beside her, I slide my mug onto the surface of the table, careful not to spill.

"Have you heard from him yet?" She asks quietly, flipping through another page.

I don't bother asking who, knowing that she's referring to my father. "No," I say honestly, not really expecting to hear much from him anyway. "Not yet."

My mother hums, as if expecting my answer. I try not to read too much into it, knowing she doesn't mean much from her subtle hum. "Have you heard from Rick?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No, it's still a little early in New York."

She laughs, leaning back into her chair. "Right."

We settle into a comfortable silence, finishing up the last bit of coffee in our mugs. The urge to walk back upstairs and settle into another slumber is overwhelming. But I know my mother won't let me. She doesn't think very highly of people who sleep in after 9:00AM.

It's only then that I remember that while bringing me my breakfast, she said she had a surprise for me. My eyes scan the living area and kitchen, not seeing anything unusual.

"Where's my surprise?" I ask with slight confusion, standing from my chair to get a better view of the room.

My mother doesn't budge, taking another sip from her mug. "It'll be here soon."

With furrowing brows, I sit back down, crossing both arms across my chest. "What do you mean? I don't see anything—"

As if on cue, an unfamiliar dazzling red car parks itself into our driveway. My eyes squint, trying to figure out who's driving the car. A deep groan leaves my chest when I can't get a proper view of it from my chair.

I stand again, vastly making my way over toward the window that oversees the entire front of our home. My heart sinks into my chest when the door is pushed open, and my father steps out. He sees me staring at him from inside of the house and tosses me a quick wave and smile.

"Mom, what the hell is he doing here?" I spit, chest heaving.

My mother puts a finger to her lips, shushing me. I gasp at her request.

She walks over toward the front door, pulling it open with a taunt smile. "Hello, Yusuf." She says civilly, yet icily.

I'm still standing in the corner of the living area, wondering what the hell I've missed because since when are they on speaking terms again?

"Hello, Daria. You look as beautiful as always." My fathers says, earning a look of detest from my mother.

"Do not start your bullshit. This is not about us, this is about our son." She points a finger toward him with a serious sort of look, earning an apology from my father.

My lips hang ajar in pure confusion, still not processing the fact that they're talking and my mother hasn't staked him in the heart. "I'm sorry, did I miss something?"

My father chuckles lightly, taking a few steps closer. I watch his movements with caution—praying to God that he isn't trying to pull me in for a hug. When he finally takes a stance in front of me, he stands there quietly, as if taking me in.

I keep a hostile expression, not wanting him to know that my heart is practically melting.

"Gage," he begins, "the only reason I came here today was to wish you a happy birthday and give you your gift. I promise that my intention isn't to make you feel uncomfortable or corner you into speaking to me again. I would never do that to you, okay?" I nod, my eyes beginning to blur with tears. "You're my only son—all I want is for you to be happy. Even if it means me giving you some space for a while to do so. Can I hug you?"

My instinct is to say yes. To say yes and leap into my fathers arms, tears and all. But I know that I can't. Not just yet. I look over to my mother, who has tears falling down her cheeks. She nods, knowing that I'm seeking her permission.

I throw myself into my fathers arms, trying as hard as I could to keep my tears at bay. He buries my face in his neck, his hand coming to stroke the back of my hair.

And just like that—everything is already falling back into place. Over these last few weeks my father had gone from my best friend, to my enemy. And it was something I didn't think I would survive much longer.

He pulls away, wiping at a hidden tear. "Enough of that," he chuckles with a groggy voice. "Come outside, I want you to see your gift."

"Why is it outside . . ." My words trail off when I begin to realize that the dazzling red car is my gift. One of my hands come up to cover the scream that leaves my lips. "Are you kidding me? That's mine?!" I ask loudly, pointing out toward the car parked outside of the window.

My parents both nod with freakishly wide smiles, their dimples piercing through their cheeks. I lean toward them, pulling them into a rather large family hug. When I pull away, I land a kiss on both of their foreheads, running outside.

Once I'm standing in front of the car, I can't stop screeching, going on and on about just how about beautiful it is. My father smiles, and slides the car keys into my grasp.

"Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I shout loudly, sliding into the passenger side of my car. I can't stop smiling and I can't stop thanking them for such a wonderful gift.

When Rick and I turned sixteen, we had both gotten our driver's licenses—but only Rick had been given a car. And not that I was expecting one, I mean, I knew that my family wasn't as well off as Rick's family was. But still, it was a little embarrassing to always be asking someone for a ride everywhere.

But now, that wouldn't be an issue anymore.

Once the door is closed, and the key is in the ignition, my mother comes to knock on the window, signaling me to roll it down. I comply, biting onto my bottom lip to contain my screaming. "Be safe while driving, do you understand?" I nod profusely. "And remember, when you're on the road you're not only doing your part, but you also have to make sure that the cars around you are also doing their part. It's very easy to get into an accident—"

"Daria," my father whisper-shouts, "I think he knows what he's doing."

My mother rolls her eyes, turning back toward me. "Also, we have just one more surprise for you. Well, actually it isn't our surprise. We've just been instructed by a very close friend of yours to have you drive down to some sort of Cuban restaurant, and they will do the rest."

My heart flutters at her words, because I know exactly who she is talking about. "Yes, I know what you're talking about." I chuckle.

"Well, you better get going," my father taps the hood of the car, "go have fun."

With their last farewells, and instructions on how to drive in such a crowded city, I'm off and on my way toward one of the best days of my life.

A/N - okay, yes, I've decided to split the last chapter into two parts because I really want to end this on a high note. AND I'm so excited to make my announcement on the NEXT chapter that will, without a doubt, be up by tonight. I hope you're as excited as I am!!!!