I THINK I DID IT

CHAPTER 8

I watched as she made her way down the stairs, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing her favorite t-shirt. I stood there, holding a cake in my hands, singing "Happy Birthday" with a grin I couldn't hide. She smiled, and then burst into laughter at the sight of the cake I'd made. It was a mess—slightly lopsided with uneven frosting—but she still looked at it like it was the best thing she'd ever seen.

"It looks so cool!" she said throughh her giggles, though we both knew it was a disaster.

She ran up to me and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.

"Thanks, Mommy."

"Aww, my baby, you're welcome," I said, wrapping my arms around her.

As I continued singing, she leaned forward and blew out the three candles on the cake.

"Hooray!" we both cheered.

Just as I was about to cut the cake, I glanced out the window and saw Mrs. Jordan and her son, Blake, approaching the front door. Without hesitation, I set the cake down and walked over to greet them.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jordan!" I called out, opening the door.

"Oh, hey, dear. Call me Missy," she said with a warm smile. "We just came by to wish the birthday girl a happy birthday."

I looked down at Blake, who seemed to have shot up since the last time I saw him. "Hey, Blake! You've grown so much! What's your mom been feeding you?" I teased.

Mrs. Jordan chuckled, and I waved them in, motioning for them to come inside.

"Come in, come in," I said, the warmth of the house spilling out into the cool morning air.

They stepped inside, and I could already see the joy on my daughter's face as she spotted Blake. The two had been inseparable since they  met, and the excitement in the room doubled the moment they were together.

"Happy birthday!" Blake said, a bit shy but still managing a smile as he handed her a small gift wrapped in bright pink paper.

She beamed and took the gift, hugging him quickly before ripping the paper off with the energy only an eight-year-old could have. Inside was a cute stuffed bunny, soft and white with floppy ears. She squealed in delight, clutching it to her chest immediately.

"Thank you, Blake!" she said, spinning around in excitement.

Mrs. Jordan—Missy, I reminded myself—looked at me with a smile. "Seems like they're still thick as thieves."

"Absolutely," I replied, laughing. "I swear, they're going to grow up still getting into trouble together."

Missy chuckled softly, stepping further into the living room. "I wouldn't be surprised. Blake talks about her all the time."

I smiled, watching as the kids ran off to the corner of the room, already engrossed in their own world of play. It was moments like these that made everything else—every worry, every bit of stress—fade into the background.

"Can I get you something to drink, Missy? We've got juice, tea, or coffee, if you need a pick-me-up."

"Tea would be lovely, thanks," she said, settling onto the couch. "It's nice to finally sit for a moment."

I headed into the kitchen to boil some water for the tea, glancing back occasionally to make sure the kids were behaving. I could hear Missy behind me, talking about how fast time seemed to be flying, how she could barely believe her own boy was growing so fast.

"I know what you mean," I said, setting the kettle on the stove. "Sometimes I feel like I just blinked, and she's already eight. It's amazing how quickly they change."