Page 66 of Lift Me Up

Our parents depart after their gift is opened; a custom-made toy chest, prepared to have the baby's name engraved once it’s announced. They politely excused themselves and went inside, away from festivities lit by the luminary lanterns I'd made and the fairy lights I'd hung. Of course, they would thank everyone for coming to the party as if they had planned everything because that's what they did. But the moment they disappear into the house, Sienna is clinking her sparkling cider glass, holding it up like she wants to make a toast. Those of us that remain turn to her, and I shoot her a smile.

"I just want to say thank you to everyone for coming out to celebrate me and Ricardo, this little bean, and to share the love and compassion and happiness we all have today. To Noah, my baby brother, my best friend, my baby's uncle, thank you for always being there for me even when I am raging with pregnancy hormones. Thank you for always being up for a baking session, a laugh, a cry, eating all my cookies—and I mean all. Most importantly, today, you made me feel beautiful and loved and supported, and without you, this moment would not have been possible. I love you, and—" Her voice breaks a little, she starts to sniffle and Ricardo hands her a perfectly timed tissue for the happy mama tears. She clears her throat and sets her face, determined. "No, damn it, I've got this, I can do this."

Everyone giggles as she pep talks herself, swipes away another tear and then smiles, "Truly, thank you all for being here today, again. I love all of you awesome nerds."

When the toasts are over from Sienna and then Ricardo, the party resumes. Mingling, a small group has started a fire over at the fire pit, the blankets our parents keep out here for such an occasion spread across their shoulders or laps. I take it all in, this thing of beauty I created with just a bit—okay, a lot—of much appreciated help from Franny. I feel like I achieved what I wanted, giving Sienna the laid-back party that she'd been dreaming of.

No drama, no fighting, our parents were surprisingly subdued, and maybe that came with aging, with knowing they're going to be grandparents. Maybe, with some miracle, they no longer resent me for not being a doctor or Sienna for dropping out of school to become a mother. Maybe, they finally see us for us, that we are not from the same time, that times are changing, that we can be happy in the here and the now, and that's all that matters for us.

I feel Georgie give my arm a squeeze, I look down at her and see that smile again, the one that tells me she's happy, but there's something pinched in her expression she's trying to calm. She drops the smile and presses her lips together, then she looks up at me and the falter in her practiced smile fades. Back to masking. I want to say something to her, to ask her if she needs a break or needs to talk or if there's anything I can do, but before I am given the chance, our parents return to the party. It makes me wonder what their original reason for leaving was.

Franny helps roll in my final surprise for Sienna through the back gate. Sienna has always wanted to try one of those ice cream carts from social media. The ones that ‘make the ice cream like magic in front of your eyes and then get rolled into the cutest little sushi ice cream you've ever seen.’ Sienna's words, not mine. But it was near impossible to find one locally, and she gave up trying to make that dream come true and stuck to watching video after admittedly satisfying video of the ice cream being chopped, rolled, and dressed in all the toppings.

Now whether her intent was to have the cart stay forever in her home with endless ice cream roll options or if her intention was to find one and try it and then be done with it, I wouldn't know. You can never tell with Sienna and her big dreams. The thing is, if I had tried to get her one of her own, I had two options. I could spend a few hundred dollars on one that probably wouldn't work in the house, and she wouldn't use it too much after the baby gets here anyways. I definitely did not have ten thousand dollars to buy a cart for her to use commercially either, and again, the baby would be the priority very soon. So, renting a local cart? Next logical option.

But finding one was again the issue. The search had taken almost as long as the whole planning done for this shower, and I did my damndest to make sure I found exactly what she was looking for. I did all the searching I could do, finding trucks and carts around the province but nowhere remotely near us or willing to travel without major fees involved. I just wanted something simple and easy. I tried every option before I relented and asked Facebook. I blocked Sienna for the time being, and she hadn't frequented her Facebook in years, so it wasn't a stretch to say she would never notice me gone and once the surprise was over, she could re-add me if she cared to.

Surely, the social media gods would look down on me and see the desperation of a brother trying to make his sister's ice cream sushi dreams come true. They did, at the last minute. During the night, I got a message on my post that literally made my day. As it turned out, a friend of mine that I went to high school with was in the business of making ice cream rolls, and he just so happened to be moving his shop to the city. His social outreach cart for events was all ready to go, and he was about to set up in the city park when he saw my post. He offered his services at a great rate thanks to the fact that past me often helped him with his calculus homework in high school.

Franny struts in behind him with a helium balloon shaped like a stork, and Thomas wheels in the glorious fairy lit cart. I nudge Sienna, who stands beside me chatting up her friend Grace, and her eyes look at me before turning to the surprise.

"You're kidding me!" She shouts, practically jumping in place as she hobbles over the rest of the way to inspect my handy work. She looks to me, a 'kid in the candy store with unlimited budget' expression on her face. "How?"

"Magic." I give her spirit fingers.

The crowd gathers around to watch Thomas do his thing, Sienna and the group mesmerized by the excitement and show biz of it all. I stay in the middle with Georgie, holding her hand. She's gone quiet, even quieter than earlier. I can see her face shining in the fairy lights glow, but it’s not from makeup or from the fairy lights... she's clammy to the touch, her hands cold, and her face flushed, and I know. I know something isn't right, but I can't say anything because we're here in this throng of people, and I can't get us out. I look for Franny, but she's well off in the front, eating her ice cream and completely oblivious.

"Noah, I can't eat ice cream," Georgie hisses.

"You sure? He has some dairy-free options; I made sure⁠—”

"It would do damage in more ways than one, I think," She comments and laughs to herself, but she looks pale. Too pale. She's... really not looking okay right now.

I turn to face her, to reach out to her, something. "Georgie."

Interrupted by a neighbouring voice, I hear Derek, Grace's husband, ask around a mouthful of his ice cream. “Do you smell that?"

Grace sniffs, her nose scrunched up in distaste, "Something... yeah, something. How do you even describe that smell?"

I feel Georgie stiffen beside me. I can see her pale complexion in my peripheral vision. She sways where she stands, and I turn to catch her.

"Don't." She pulls away just as she rights herself. She takes a step back, away from me and flashes me the fakest smile I've ever seen, and I feel that pit of despair come flooding back in. "I'm... just gonna... I've gotta... Excuse me. "

She stumbles through the crowd, and it's not hard to follow her as she quietly exits the backyard and down the driveway. I catch up with her quickly, "Georgie, it's okay. Please. Tell me what's going on."

She stops, turning back to look at me. Her mascara is smudged, and her face, God, her face is so fucking pale and she shakes with every step she takes. "Go back to the party, Noah. Please."

"No." I step forward, she takes one back. "Georgie, you have to talk to me."

"I don't! I need you to stop. Just—stop. This, it's too much. God, it's so cold,"

"It's... It warmed up a bit from earlier, Georgie. Are you feeling okay?" Nothing.

"You're... you're not well again, are you?" I ask.

She says nothing. Just flashes her dagger stare at me, and I know the answer.

"And you're not telling me things again, aren't you?"