“The expected is what keeps us steady. It’s the unexpected that changes our lives forever.”
- Shonda Rhimes
I’m not sure which niece’s birthday we were celebrating. If it was Alex, then it would have been the beginning of November, a pleasant time of year in Florida with warm days and cool evenings. If it was Lauren’s then it would have been the beginning of April, also an enjoyable time outside between seasons in Florida.
Steve’s wife, Karen had come for a visit with the two girls and her mother, Diane. All four of them stayed in June’s crowded apartment. Even though she invited them to stay with her, the minute they left, she ranted and raved over how miserable and exhausted she was. June was approaching eighty years old and no longer had all the energy she used to.
June gave them her bed and slept on the couch during their visits. The little girls would have been perfectly happy sleeping on the living room floor, like having a slumber party. June wouldn’t allow it. She was in a tizzy for weeks before their arrival trying to plan the meals and map out activities for them. All of which were unnecessary since Karen made their vacation agenda long before ever stepping foot on the airplane. I tried to explain this to June but she would have none of it. In her mind, they were her guests not mine and she would decide. Her stubborn streak appeared just in time to interrupt a fun family time.
“You know I have to set the rules while they’re here,” June told me on our Saturday grocery store run.
“What are the rules?” I asked.
“No jumping in the elevator. The girls always want to do that, you know,” she said.
“What’s wrong with that? Richard does it all the time,” I asked.
June’s face turned red, her expression soured. “They’ll break the elevator. I won’t allow them to do it.” Mostly June loved Richard but she hated it when he undermined her well thought out plans. He made mischief every chance he could and she wanted things to go her way and in her poorly thought out order.
I knew better than to say the elevator would remain operational if two seventy-pound children jumped up and down a few times. She’d never speak to me again. The rest of the rules covered meal times, bed times and use of the television remote control. Did she know these people were coming to vacation?
To give June some relief, I invited everyone over to celebrate the birthday. Richard and I planned to grill steaks, bake potatoes and fill the table with all the trimmings. A personalized cake with ice cream and candles to blow out would be the perfect ending. I also stopped at Wal-Mart to pick up one of those helium balloon canisters. The patio looked festive with balloons of all colors floating from our chairs.
Richard is known in our family circle as the Magic Man. He has a small repertoire of tricks to delight both young and old. After we stuffed ourselves silly with cake and ice cream, the magic show began. I took that as a cue to clear the table and clean up. I’d seen these tricks so many times over the years I could do his routine in my sleep.
The thing about his tricks are that the older the nieces got, the smarter they became.
“Uncle Richard, they’re the same size,” Lauren laughed when he hauled out two curved pieces of colored paper that created an optical illusion.
“How’d you get so smart?” he’d ask, deflated his secret had been figured out. “I bet you don’t know how I can do this.”
With that he fished a balloon out of a bag, stuck it on the nozzle of the half full helium tank filling it part way. Pinching the end, he held the balloon to his mouth and sucked in some of the gas.
“Happy birthday to you,” he sang in a high, squeaky, Donald Duck kind of a voice that helium causes.
I doubled over laughing, Alex and Lauren squealed with delight and June stared wide-eyed at Richard with her mouth agape. She’d never seen or heard the helium trick before.
The girls tried it next, much to their mother’s consternation. Alex laughed so hard she couldn’t form words. The anticipation of the squeaky voice far out did the actual speech. I held my stomach it hurt so much, full of cake and ice cream being jostled around by hysteria.
Richard filled another balloon and handed it to June. We waited while she held the balloon between her fingers trying to decide whether she should partake. Then it happened. She held the balloon to her lips and drew in a deep breath.
“Am I really going to talk funny?” she squeaked like Minnie Mouse.
I howled, Karen and Diane roared, Richard laughed, the girls giggled non-stop. June took in another breath and started talking again. Doubled over with laughter, I couldn’t stand up straight.
June took in a third gulp. By this time the sound of laughter mixed with unintelligible words in the tone of a duck permeated the night. Tears rolled down our faces and June relished being the center of attention.
Had I mixed her drinks a little too strongly that night? Did she come to the realization that jumping in the elevator was harmless? Was June growing older and little by little letting her guard down and finally starting to enjoy life as part of our family?
That night she made a memory that will live in our family archives for a very long time.