Free Memoirs of a Girl Wolf by Xandra Lawrence

wanted. I guessed mom gave them money and they ended up getting something for themselves. I didn’t play video games but I wouldn’t make a fuss about it because I knew and they knew that I owed them, so I said thank you promised Mom that it was a fine gift and I really wanted Minecraft.
    But, I was more excited about Mom’s gifts: a long sleeve, V-neck forest green sweater that she said would look gorgeous against my creamy, wan complexion and red hair. She also gifted me with a grey, wool pea coat for the fall weather, a black and blue color block blouse, and a leather bound journal. I didn’t think I’d get much use of that. My life just wasn’t interesting enough to record in writing.
    My last present was a little box. When I opened it, my breathing slowed. My reaction caused my brothers to run over to me to see what I was staring down at and Mom to hold her hand to her heart as her eyes watered. Inside the box was a glass Mickey Mouse figurine. I held it up for everyone to see. I hadn’t received a new figurine since . . . well ever. The collection started and ended before I was three years old. Why would Mom twelve years later want to add to it?
    “That’s cute,” Mom said with a tense smile.
    “Yeah,” I said, placing it back in the box.
    “For your collection,” Mom said
    “Yeah,” I said again, setting the box on the coffee table. Viktor’s ghost like presence was sometimes oppressive. It had the ability to silence all of us and at the moment it did just that. A birthday is a time my father should be there celebrating with me and he wasn’t. He had missed a lot of birthdays. Although it was sweet of Mom to try to get me something for the only representation, in the form of a Mickey Mouse collections, I had of my father, it only reminded me of how absent he was.
    And then she said, “It’s from Daddy.”
    And now we all looked at each other. My brothers didn’t have anything from him. They didn’t even have a memory because Viktor left right after they were born. He hadn’t tried to contact us, not to my knowledge and now Mom told me that he sent me a birthday gift? I had so many questions. Did that mean Mom still communicated with him? Did he stop by? Did he want to see me?
    “Victor?” I cleared my throat. He was always just Victor. I couldn’t call him Dad and I sure as heck would not call him Daddy.
    “Yeah, well, when he started the collection he picked this one out,” she picked up the figurine and looked down at it in her cupped hands, “and he said, “I’m gonna give this to her on her sixteenth birthday,’” she said, smiling. She wiped her eyes before lifting her head and looking at me.
    I couldn’t believe she was crying as if she still had feelings for that man. How could she? He left us. All of us, and her alone with three children—new born twins at that. I snatched the figurine from her and dropped it back in the box, so it wasn’t really from him she had just been holding on to it all these years.
    “I want cake,” I said, standing.
    “Wait, one more,” she said, handing me a small bag.
    I sat back down and opened the bag excited to have one more present, but then I pulled out a pouch of tea leaves.
    “We can have some after dinner,” she said, patting my leg.
    I faked a smile.
     
    Mom wanted to have dinner early. She kept glancing out the window and staring at the sky lost in thought. Then she would look at me with a concerned expression. As if she was stuck on repeat, she continued asking if I felt alright and if I wanted some tea right now.
    “I’m fine,” I said, again, the tenth time that night.
    She patted ground beef into hamburger patties. It smelled good. I licked my lips.
    “How do you guys want your burgers? Well done?” she asked.
    “I’d like mine a little pink,” I said.
    “Medium-well?” she asked, as she placed the patties on a plate and headed toward the deck to put them on the grill.
    “Pinker,” I said.
    “Medium?” she