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thirteen

BEN

Later that night, I sat on the sofa in my living room with my friends around me. I smiled at something Riley said to Dylan and Eric, then laughed when Paul and Liam rushed into the kitchen to rescue Amy from a bowl of whipped cream.

Amy was Paul’s seven-year-old niece. When Paul’s sister and parents died in a car accident, he’d become the little girl’s legal guardian. Since then, they’d developed a close bond that was like any father-daughter relationship.

When Amy walked into the living room, I smiled. “Did you manage to lick the bowl clean before your uncle arrived?”

Amy sat on the sofa, gazing up at me with big, blue eyes. “I had lots and lots,” she whispered. “Uncle Paul said I’ll have a tummy ache.”

“Is it sore now?”

“No. Maybe I didn’t have enough.”

The possibility of that was extremely low. Amy had been alone in the kitchen for more than ten minutes with the leftover dessert from my birthday dinner. A lot could happen in a little girl’s life in that time. “You probably had just the right amount.”

When Paul came back into the room, he was holding a huge birthday cake and singing Happy Birthday . By the time everyone joined in there were tears in my eyes.

“Happy birthday, Ben,” Jonathon said as Paul placed the cake on the coffee table.

I gave my friend a hug before wiping my eyes. “Where did the cake come from?”

“I baked it today,” Paul said with a grin. “It was hidden in my truck. Happy Birthday.”

After more hugs and birthday wishes, I looked more closely at the cake. Candles sparkled from the top of the white frosting, and glittery gold stars cascaded down the sides. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

Amy jumped up and down. “There’s twenty-one candles. I counted them for you.”

Paul grinned. “We thought thirty-one would be a fire hazard.”

Dylan waved his hand above the flames. “Talking about fires, you should blow out the candles before the smoke alarms start beeping.”

I looked at the excitement on my friends’ faces and sighed. There was so much love in the room that it made my heart swell with pride.

I knelt beside Amy. “Would you help me blow out the candles?”

“Yes, please!”

“We’ll count to three, then blow them out. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Amy squealed.

“Okay. One…two…three!” I blew as hard as I could.

When Amy extinguished the last two stubborn flames, everyone clapped and cheered.

I enjoyed the moment. The last few years had been a roller coaster of ups and downs but, through it all, I’d had my dad and friends beside me. A person couldn’t ask for much more than that—especially when they only had twenty-one candles on their cake.