Gracie’s Special Gift

Nicola would take nothing from her ex – but she could not deprive her daughter of his generosity

So, the big weekend?” said Jane as Nicola watched her friend shove her bottle-green polyester shirt and name badge into the locker and reach for the can of deodorant from the little shelf.

“Yep. I really can’t believe my baby is reaching double figures,” Nicola replied, pulling a face.

“Tell me about it. Justin is learning to drive and I swear it feels like just months ago I was pushing him around the park in a car on a stick.”

“Don’t!” Nicola shook her head. “Let me get used to her being ten before we jump to seventeen.” She shook her head. “I was seventeen when I met her dad.”

“Just a baby,” Jane confirmed. “What’s he doing for Gracie’s birthday? A pony? Disneyland? Couple of tiaras?” Nicola smiled. “Don’t be mean…” “Don’t you dare defend him!” Jane exclaimed. “You work all the hours under the sun to pay rent and he swans around in that flash car, leaving bigger tips in the café than you earn in an hour and he doesn’t pay you a penny! It’s not right! He lives the life of Riley while you suffer.” “He has offered –” Nicola began. “Then take it! I know I would,” Jane said as she let her hair out of its previously tight bun. “I’d grab a wad of cash and take a month off and go and lie in the sun, drinking sangria…”

“I don’t want his money. I want to show Gracie that it’s good to be selfreliant, independent and that if you want something you have to work for it.”

“You are a weirdo, but you are my best friend weirdo and I love you. Tell Gracie have a lovely birthday and please give her this.” Jane pulled a rectangular gift-wrapped box from her bag. It rattled with the unmistakable sound of Maltesers rolling around inside. “Just a little something.”

“Ah, Jane, thank you! Her favourites.”

Nicola pulled up outside the tall, slightly dilapidated Victorian house, carried her bike down the basement steps, carefully placing her feet in the crumbling wells of the shattered slate, and chained it inside the railings of the minute courtyard. She rapped on the window and waited.

“Hello, darling!” Her mum opened the door, grabbing her coat from the hook on the wall, as she did so. “Sorry to rush off, but your dad’s waiting for me. She’s been an angel. Love you!”

Her mum blew a kiss from her flattened palm as she trod the stairs.

“Hi Mum.” Grace waved from the sofa. “Nan let me have biscuits but she said don’t tell you. I told her it wouldn’t spoil my tea!” Nicola loved her honesty. “What do you fancy for tea?” “Nothing. I’m full of biscuits.” Nicola rolled her eyes. “I’m really excited.” Grace beat her heels on the sofa.

“Of course you are, becoming ten is a big deal!” “I spoke to Daddy,” Nicola noted the slight flicker of hesitation across her daughter’s face and hated that her child felt torn between expressing her feelings freely and trying to spare her mum’s.

“What did he say?” She dropped down onto the rag rug in front of the sofa and smiled into her little girl’s face.

“He said that he and Claire are all ready for my party. Claire has put bunting over the roof of the pool house and a glitter ball and disco lights in the conservatory and she’s done me a cool playlist so we can dance!” Her eyes sparkled. “I don’t know what my cake is going to be, it’s a surprise!”

Nicola cursed the shot of envy that fired through her veins. It wasn’t that she wanted to deny her little girl the lovely trappings provided by her dad and his new partner, but was very conscious of the contrast to her humble offering.

“You are going to have the best day.” She leaned forward and kissed her forehead, smoothing the tawny curls.

“I wish you would come too.” “Do you know what? I have a lot to do this weekend – plus I’m working.” She turned down her mouth. “But we’ll have your birthday breakfast together and we can open your presents here, just like we always do and then you can go off to your Dad’s. It’s like one non-stop party!”

She placed her hand flat on the wooden floor and grimaced as it stuck to something pale and sticky, no doubt slopped from a distracted hand. “Urgh!” She raised her palm. “OJ,” her daughter offered without averting her eyes from the screen.

“I’ll give you OJ!” Nicola lunged forward. “You might be ten, but you are not too old to kiss your Mumma!”

Grace tried to hide her face as Vera the cat jumped up to join in. Nicola laughed, thinking how very different life was for her child in this little flat.

Waking before the alarm, Nicola lay back on the pillows, pulled the patchwork comforter up to her chin and closed her eyes. Her mind flittered back to the delivery room when she had watched, misty-eyed, as her man held their daughter in his arms and swiped at his tears.

“She’s… she’s so beautiful! And I swear, Nic, I swear I will give her and you the best life. I will love you both always…”

And she had believed him. Her sadness on that day stemmed from the fact that she knew she could not say the same; already her love for him was fringed with indifference.

She swallowed the thoughts of how she had let him and Grace down that day, unable to stay quiet as many advised and simply let life carry them along…

“It’s my birthday!” Grace hollered from her room along the hallway.

Nicola trotted along the cold floor. She stopped in the doorway and placed her fingers over her mouth as she gasped. “Oh my word! Gracie? Is that you?” “Of course it’s me!” The little girl fell back on the pillows laughing. Vera uncurled from her spot on the duvet.

“Are you sure you are Gracie? Because I swear the little girl I tucked up in bed last night was a nine-year-old and yet look at you! You look taller, older – I would say you look at least ten!”

“Mum, don’t be crazy. I am ten!” Grace tutted, her grin belying her supposed irritation.

“You sure are. Happy birthday! Fancy some cake?”

“Yes!” Grace scooped Vera into her arms and ran into the sitting room. As per their tradition, a small, round chocolate cake sat on the coffee table with ten stubby candles standing proudly around the edge. This they would eat for breakfast. Nicola had added two pink balloons, and next to the cake sat Jane’s gift and a couple of her own.

As Vera jumped down from her arms, Grace leapt up and down with

A small CHOCOLATE CAKE sat on the table; this they’d eat for BREAKFAST

excitement. Nicola felt a flush of joy at her daughter’s reaction, watching as she tore the paper from Jane’s gift and then from the two novels she’d requested.

Grace held the books to her chest and looked skyward. “Yes!”

“My little bookworm.” She smiled at her child who reminded her of herself at a similar age – a time when her intentions had been grand, with no concept of how life could get in the way of those plans.

Nicola reached under the sofa before pulling the large, square present on to her lap. She fingered the striped paper. Grace clapped her hands in anticipation of this gift that had been hidden away. She placed it in her daughter’s hands. “This is kind of a special present, Gracie. It’s something I made you.”

Nicola looked away as her child tore the wrapping, revealing a large cushion with a soft, pale blue velvet back.

“A cushion!” Grace held it up, as if it were the first time they had both seen it. Her tone was of muted joy, tinged with disappointment, her expression quizzical.

Nicola smiled at her IMPATIENT girl dragging her DAD by the hand

Nicola shuffled forward until she was side by side with her child on the floor.

“Not just any cushion, your cushion.” She touched the border fabric of white cotton with tiny blue and green leaping rabbits, interspersed with orange carrots.“This was your baby blanket.” She smiled, picturing her newborn. “You slept with this until you were about one.”

“I remember it, Mum.” Grace brought the cushion closer to her face. “And this piece I recognise, it’s from Joogles!”

Nicola nodded; the top left square was indeed all that remained of a muchfavoured kangaroo soft toy, Joogles.

“What’s this bit?” Gracie ran her finger over a soft pad of white lace. Nicola swallowed. “That’s from my wedding dress.” “It must be hundreds of years old!” Gracie stated, wide-eyed.

The phone in the kitchen rang. Gracie leapt up, letting the cushion fall to the floor. Nicola grabbed it and brushed the dust from its velvet pile.

“Daddy!” Grace yelled with an enthusiasm that was to be expected. “Yes! I think so. Hang on, I’ll ask Mummy.”

Her child cupped the phone and called across the room, “Mum, do I have wellies?”

“Yes, in the cupboard in the hallway, I hope they still fit you. Do you need them today?” She bit her lip.

“Mummy says they might be in the hall cupboard. Do I need them today?”

Nicola watched, as her daughter’s expression switched from concentration to confusion to pure happiness.

“Nooooooo!” she yelled, her voice shrill, as she jumped up and down on the spot. “Mummy! Mum! Daddy and Claire got me a pony! I got a pony!” Of course they did… She pushed the cushion back under the sofa. No matter how many hours she had put into her gift, no squares of fabric could complete with a bloody pony. She pictured Jane’s “I told you so” face. Grace ran around the flat. “I am so excited! I got a pony, Mum! My very own horse! What shall I call him? What do you think he looks like? Do you think I can ride him today?”

Her questions fired, as she ran around, giddy with happy anticipation.

“I am sure Daddy has taken care of everything,” she offered with a smile that was at odds with the abject feeling of inadequacy that filled her up.

At the sound of the front door bell, Grace bolted along the hallway. Nicola listened as Grace and her dad greeted each other. Then he was beside her. “Hey, Nic.” She looked up and smiled at the man who was now, in so many ways, a stranger. “Hey, you.”

He presented her with a large, bouquet of yellow roses. “Happy Giving Birth Day.” “Oh! Thank you.” She wasn’t sure if this year, with a new wife in tow, this tradition might end. “They are beautiful. Thank you,” she offered sincerely.

“Come on, Dad, I want to see my pony! Bye, Mum!”

Nicola smiled at her impatient girl, dragging her dad by the hand towards the basement steps.

“Bye, my darling, have a lovely party. Don’t forget to take photos!”

And just like that, she was alone. Her tears sprang without warning. Nicola slumped against the wall with her flowers in her hand and cried.

It was as she swiped her distress with the back of her hand that she heard a small knocking on the front door. Straightening and sniffing, she flipped the handle to see Grace on the doorstep. “I forgot something.” Nicola stood back as her little girl skirted past her. She watched, as Grace bent down and retrieved her cushion from under the sofa and brought it up to her face to inhale its scent.

“I want to take it with me. I want to take it with me every time I spend a night away from you, and I always will, even when I’m really big, like twelve or twenty because all these tiny pieces of fabric are bits of you and me, aren’t they, Mum? And when I put my head on it, it will be like you are cuddling me and that will help me get to sleep.”

Nicola could hardly speak. Emotion acted like a stopper in her throat. “Happy birthday, Gracie.” She smiled as her girl ran past with her beloved cushion tucked under her arm, knowing she would never forget that moment when her daughter had given her the greatest gift.