When night fell

14 | fifteen and still confused

On my fifteenth birthday, I came downstairs to my Papà and Salomé singing the happy birthday song to me. On the table stood a chocolate cake with fifteen lit candles, waiting for me to blow them out. I groaned innerly, but smiled nonetheless, standing there with my awkward teenage self, waiting for the song to be over. When it was over, I turned to the table to blow the candles, but before I could, Papà stopped me.

"Wait, wait! You didn't think we were finished yeah?" Papà cleared his throat, started singing the happy birthday song in Italian. After he finished, he cupped my cheeks, kissed my nose, and said: "Buon compleanno, dolce ragazzo."

"Grazie, Papà."

"Quanti anni hai?"

"Rude." I stuck my tongue out to him, wiping my hair off my forehead. "Quindici, Papà. But from now on, you can't ask me that anymore."

"Fifteen!" Papà grinned, trying to kiss my cheeks, to which I turned away. "Feels like yesterday, the day that you arrived." Papà's smile faltered a little, I knew he thought of Mamma.

"Happy birthday, sweet Benjamin." Salomé kissed my cheek after I had blown out the candles.

"Merci, beaucoup." I took the knife from Papà, cutting three pieces of cake, one slightly bigger than the other two, I grinned when I glanced at Papà. We ate the cake seated on the couch, Papà poured a cappuccino for me and himself, while Salomé drank tea.

"How does it feel to be fifteen?" Papà asked, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

"Useless." I answered, placing the now empty dessert plate upon the table. "You're still not allowed to do any of the adult stuff, and with birthdays you still have to sit at the kid's table."

Papà laughed at that. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Cowboy. The years fly by quick enough."

My eyes roamed around the room. Salomé had decorated it for me. It made me feel seen, I liked the colors of the balloons, the colors of the birthday flag banner that hung around the living room. Staring at the couch, I still missed the presence of one specific person painfully much. I stared down at my cappuccino, missed the way Mamma would dance for me, how Papà would laugh, how she made me have sips of cappuccino's and we would eat cornetti's for breakfast. I missed the way she used to spoil me with hugs and kisses throughout the day, telling me that I was the greatest gift she had ever received in life. I missed how she would bake the authentic Italian pizza's for dinner, how we ate her homemade tiramisu after that. I just missed her.

Papà sensed my somberness. It always came back on days like these. I cleared my throat, pushed it all way. "So? Did you get me anything?" I wondered, putting away my cappuccino cup.

"How could we not?" Papà winked at me, handing me a box. I remembered it was a phone. We had discussed it before, and I agreed to pay along with it, because it was rather expensive.

"Sweet." I grinned, taking the phone out of the box. I had not had a smartphone before. Nolan and Amelie had already gotten theirs, but Papà didn't want me to have it until this age. So before this, I had one where I could only call Papà and Salomé on, sometimes Amelie and Nolan, and where I could play Snake and Pacman.

After we had installed the phone, Salomé handed me an envelope. "Read carefully, yeah?"

They had gotten me western riding lessons on the farm from Mr. Wood. I looked up at them. "Really?"

"Yeah." Papà said, smiling a little. "About time you could practice out your talent, right?"

"Does that mean they can teach me how to catch bulls?"

Papà's expression faltered, Salomé hesitated before she said: "Well, we're not sure. These lessons will be to improve your riding skills, but it's done the western way, on a western saddle and with western instructions for the horse."