I’ve made up my mind not to go to the New Year’s Party.
Otto and I are spending it together, snuggled up on the couch with bowls of ice cream, waiting for the ball to drop. The news flashes from various spots all around the world, and we watch people celebrate as new anchors get progressively drunker.
Pearl, however, keeps dropping hints. She’s wearing a sequined dress and a paper crown with the numbers 2019 across her head and clicking around the house in kitten heels. My mother will always dress up for a party—even if that party takes place entirely in the living room.
“Look at what I found!” she says. She holds up a velvet emerald-green dress.
“Where did you find that?” I ask.
“At the bottom of a suitcase you have yet to unpack,” she says triumphantly.
“For the last time—please stop going through my things. And thank you.”
“It’s pretty,” Otto says, and I muss his hair.
“Thanks, buddy. Maybe I’ll wear it later.”
“Or you could wear it tonight,” my mother presses. “To a certain party.”
“Are we going to a party?” Otto asks.
“No, buddy. It’s just us tonight.”
“Okay. Cool.” He yawns—a big yawn. “Because I’m thinking about bed soon maybe.”
My poor boy has been exhausted lately. The dialysis has eradicated the seizures, but it also knocks him out. It’s 10:00 p.m. and he can barely keep his eyes open.
I slip my fingers through his hair. “Don’t you want to stay up and watch the ball drop, buddy?”
Otto shakes his head, blinking heavily. “Just tell me how it ends…”
The kid is exhausted. I can’t blame him.
I’m tired, too. Tired and wired, all at the same time. Even after I read to Otto and tuck him in, I feel on edge. I try brewing a cup of tea, hoping the warmth of it will kick in and lull the frenetic parts of my brain to a tamer state.
No luck.
“Do you think Anderson Cooper is single?” my mother asks as she watches the TV and fans herself with her 2019 crown.
My eyes land on the dress. She’s draped it across the chair, and now it’s sitting there. Waiting for me.
I tighten my fingers around my mug. I can feel my mother’s eyes on me, questioning. I glance at the clock.
It’s only eleven. There’s still time…
Maybe I can turn these flats into glass slippers yet.
“Screw it,” I mutter. I lift the dress from the chair.
“That’s my girl!” Pearl smiles.
