“Steppie, can I watch your fireworks with you?”
I looked down to find my nine-year-old sister, Daphne, in the sparkly smock dress I’d bought her a week ago when we realized the dress Mom picked out for her didn’t fit and also didn’t come in plus-sizes.
Normally, she had to be in bed, lights out, by 9 pm. But everyone in the world got to stay up until midnight the night before my birthday, including her.
“Sure, Daph…” I carefully extracted my arm from Dad’s grip.
At the same time, Eunice West, our local Councilman’s wife chose that moment to swoop in and introduce Dad to yet another divorcée around his age. Mrs. West had been one of my mother’s best friends, and they’d served together on the Lakefront Historical Preservation Society’s board. But a man as rich and eligible as my father couldn’t be allowed to remain single in our gated community. Oh, no, no! It just wasn’t done. Now that my mother had been dead for almost a year, Mrs. West considered it her personal responsibility—nay, her mission—to introduce Antoine Perreault to his next wife.
I would have felt bad for Dad if it wasn’t also the perfect excuse to leave him behind—along with that serious conversation he’d wanted to have with me.
“Yes, let’s go watch your sister’s much-deserved fireworks,” Luk said to Daphne, gallantly offering her his arm.
My heart melted at the sight of them, walking in front of me. Luk was also great with kids. It was one of the many reasons I loved him—even if I didn’t exactly burn with passion for him.
Still, his words didn’t settle right in my chest.
Yes, they were my fireworks. I signed the work order and paid the bill for the show with my black Amex card that morning—not to mention getting all the necessary permits.
So yes, the fireworks definitely belonged to me. But I couldn’t say I deserved them. In fact, I knew I didn't.
These new year birthday galas had always been more about my parents than me. And now that my mother was gone, it struck me as even sillier.
My mother had considered Tulane just a place to acquire my “MRS. degree.” But after three years of living in New Orleans, I couldn't help but notice all the gross disparities between this party and the living conditions in the underserved communities surrounding my university and city.
So, did I deserve this? Heck no.
Did anyone truly deserve a birthday party that cost four times an average Louisianan’s annual income? I mean, why did we have to go out of our way every year to make people we didn’t particularly like jealous? Was this really the whole point of being Black, excellent, and elite?
I knew a thousand girls would kill for everything I had. But this wasn’t how I wanted to live. This didn’t even feel like my life. Fake hair. Fake friends. Fake life. So, so, fake….
Don’t do this, I warned myself. Be happy. Drink more champagne.
So that was what I did. I drank champagne. And I counted down with all my guests who yelled, “Happy Birthday!” instead of “Happy New Year!” after we got to midnight.
And we all laughed and air-kissed like we were starring in a rather melanated production of The Great Gatsby.
Then I pretended I didn’t see my father trying to catch my eye as I thanked a bunch more people for coming to the gala.
Eventually, I noticed Daphne had disappeared from the balcony.
Continuing to avoid my father’s eyes, I told Lukas, “I’m going to take my sister upstairs and tuck her into bed.”
He nodded. “You’re a good big sister. But come right back to me.”
“I will,” I promised, giving him a peck on the mouth before I searched for Daphne.
I found her sitting on the servant's stairs, rocking with both arms wrapped around her waist.
“You okay?” I asked, a ping of worry popping off in my chest. I might have been away at school for the last few years, but I could still tell when she was on the verge of tears and trying to hold them back.
“I ate too much cake!”
I think most kids would say that because they had a stomachache. But I knew Daphne’s reasons were different.
“It’s okay,” I quickly assured her.
“No, it’s not,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “Mama would be so mad at me. I promised her…”
