“Happy birthday, dear Lilly, happy birthday to you!”

The cake looked almost too good to eat. It was designed to look exactly like the full moon (I’m a selenologist).

“Aw, you got it perfect, honey!” I said. “I’m surprised you didn’t scan a photograph of the moon for this!”

“Thank your daughter,” said Forrest. “She helped with the design.”

“Did you now?” Viv blushed. Looking at her big brown doe eyes, I couldn’t help seeing myself at twelve.

“I wanted it to be special,” said Viv.

“Better be careful, sweetie, you’re gonna put photographers out of business!”

“Hurry up and blow out the candles before they drip!”

Typical Marie, always worrying about something.

“All right, all right.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, making my wish. Leaning over wasn’t easy with a pregnant belly, and it took a few tries, but I finally blew out all the candles.

“Yay! Happy 31st, babe!” said Forrest, kissing me.

“Thank you, all of you!”

Suddenly I seized up. A contraction. How many minutes had it been since the last one?

“Mom, you okay?” said Viv.

“I’m fine, dear,” I said, but I was looking at Marie. She was biting her lip.

“What does the birthday girl want to do first?” said Forrest. “Eat cake, open presents, what?”

Marie put her hands to her mouth.

“I think we’d better have cake first, or Marie’s gonna throw a fit,” I chuckled.

My laugh turned into a groan as another contraction hit me.

Marie winced.

“Just kidding,” I laughed. But I wasn’t kidding.

Another contraction. They were getting closer.

“Just kidding!” I don’t think I was as convincing this time.

I felt a trickling down my leg.

“Mom?”

“…I think it’s time.”

“Now?” said Forrest. “You’re not due for three weeks!”

“I don’t care when I’m due, the baby wants out now!”

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” cried Marie.

“Now, don’t panic, ladies,” said Forrest, sweating. “Lilly’s packed, the car’s ready. Just need to call the hospital. Viv, help your mother.”

Viv was such a darling, helping me get to the garage. Nervous though she was, she wasn’t about to let that stop her. Such a brave girl.

********

Labor was eight solid hours of torture. I think my memory’s blanked it out because it was too traumatizing. I didn’t want to take drugs lest it hurt the baby, and they provided hot water for me, but everyone says I was crying and saying terrible things all the while.

My labor with Vivian wasn’t like this.

But it was over now. I was the proud mother of a tiny baby boy.

When the doctor said it was okay to have visitors, in came Forrest, Viv, and Marie.

I was nursing the baby.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said to Forrest. “Come meet your son.”

Tears filled his widened eyes as he came to look.

“Hey, little guy,” he whispered, kissing the baby’s head and stroking it. “You’re so tiny.”

“Viv, come meet your baby brother.”

Viv came over and leaned in. “He is tiny!”

“He’s early,” I said. “But he’s perfect.”

Marie didn’t wait for an invitation. She came to look.

Just then the baby opened his blue eyes. He noticed Marie.

I couldn’t help laughing. “‘Do you mind, lady? I’m trying to drink here!’” I said, imitating a little boy’s voice.

Marie looked at the doctor. “You said he’s healthy, right? No problems?”

“None whatsoever, ma’am,” said the doctor. “He’s premature, and undersized, but he’s perfectly healthy.”

“And Lilly?” said Marie.

The doctor smiled. “See for yourself.”

Marie looked at me.

“I was just thinking,” I said. “I’m going to have to share my birthday with this boy.”

“Hey, that’s right!” said Viv. She gazed at her baby brother. “Happy birthday to you….”

Forrest, Marie, and I joined in: “…happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear—“

A long, awkward pause. We hadn’t named the baby.

“What’s his name?” said Viv.

I looked into my baby’s little eyes. He was looking at me now.

“Farley,” I said.

“Happy birthday, dear Farley, happy birthday to you!”

Viv frowned.

“What’s wrong, Viv?”

“He gets to share a birthday with you, and I don’t.”

I stroked her long brown locks. “I love you very, very much, Vivian. And while little Farley is the best birthday present I could have imagined, he will never take your place.”

Viv gave me a doubtful look.

“How could he?” I said. “He can’t even lift his head, much less a paintbrush!”

Viv laughed. “Okay, Mom, okay!”