"My birthday cakes are as beautiful as you Mom." Alfred jumped at the sight of his cakes, tugging at his mother's custom-made apron, at the same time. Ava placed the cakes on a finely polished table in their fairly furnished living room.
The room was filled with an aroma they couldn't afford three years ago.
"You mean Mommy is more beautiful than your cakes, Muchkin." Ava teased.
"Yes Mommy!" Alfred giggled, snuggling close to his mother.
Ava felt a flush of warmth through her entire body.Her pulse jumped,followed by a quiet excitement.
It was the first time, since Alfred was born that she was able to afford not just one, but two whole cakes.
It was a miracle too, that Alfred had turned 11.
For the first time too, he gets to celebrate it happily.
Ava stooped close to Alfred to meet his blue eyes.
He looked like Lucas. Head to toe,but he possessed her spirit, and to her, that was all she cared about. Her heart was filled with so much joy, that she began to sob quietly.
" You're crying Mom."
Ava didn't fight them. She let the tears flow.
"Yes Munchkin. Good thing is,this time, l'm happy. A lot has changed in three years Alfred. Your heart is still weak, but for the first time in a long time, you've had no seizures, my love."
Ava wanted to scream. Her eyes still awash with tears.
"And l get to eat the cakes you baked for the first time and on my birthday Mommy."
Ava pulled her little one close, crying and laughing at the same time.
"Mom. You're hugging too tight and l haven't even cut my cakes yet."
Ava pulled away gently. Her heart still bursting with gratitude. She had forgotten that Alfred didn't need long and tight hugs.
I'm sorry Munchkin. I bet it's time we feed your heart a piece of cake then.
"Yeesssss!" Alfred squealed with excitment that made Ava ruffle his hair.
The room smelt of cherries, almonds, grapes strawberries, and grilled chicken. The air reeked of sweet goodness.
One of Alfred's favorite song played softly.
How long had it been since she heard music?
Her life had been filled with tears, hardwork and hospital visits.
But today, nothing of that sort came close. And she was going to be very intentional about making lasting memories today. In the farthest part of her heart, she knew that the battle was not over. Not yet.
Alfred's body had grown a little stronger, but he stll had bouts of mild fever and he needed a transplant soon.
Whatever that kept him these three years, was nothing short of a miracle.
Ava's heary skipped.
"Moooommmy!" Alfred's voice brought her back to the present.
"Alright Munchkin, but first, you'll need to make a wish before cutting your cakes."
Alfred paused and looked down his cakes.
Each had eleven little lit candles.
"Three wishes mommy!"
"As many as you wish!" Ava smiled.
"I want to be well again. My heart so strong, l can play football soon."
"I wish my mommy will keep looking beautiful, and bake cakes for children with heart disease."
Ava paused the video and looked straight at her eleven year old. A tear dropped. She knew she had given birth to a mini version of herself. An empath like she is.
She wanted to say something, but she noticed Alfred, wasn't done yet.
"Mommy."
"Yes Muchkin."
"Will all my wishes be granted?"
"Yes little one." Ava said, making a silly face at him.
"How do you know?" Alfred quizzed.
Ava was silent for a second. Now, this was a serious conversation. She knew her son too well to tell when he needed answers. The last time a similar thing happened was when she told him about his father—Lucas.
Alfred had asked her to tell him of a story of his father. He had always seen his friends with two grown adults in school and in parks, but for him, it had always been his mother.
Ava said nothing.
She had no clue on who Lucas was, or where he came from , or even where he lived, cos she knew it was one careless, carefree, high risk, one-night stand with him that got her pregnant , and the next day, Lucas was gone.
But she was smart.
Alfred's curiosity needed to be fed with some truth, and the truth had been that he had all the physical features his dad had that made her think, he was a Greek god when she first met him.
She remembered Alfred laughing. Her explanation had put that issue to rest.
"Thank God!" She had muttered, praying he would not ask any more questions about him in a long time.
And he didn't.
Until today.
She prayed silently that day wouldn't be today.
Bringing her thoughts together, she stooped again. His blue eyes fixed steadily at hers.
"I know Alfred, because l prayed for you. It was the only thing l did when we left Dr Phyl's hospital 3 years ago. I asked God to keep you healthy and strong, till l could afford your medical bills without working so hard."
"Did He answer?"
Ava chuckled.
"What do you think Munchkin?
"I think He did mama!"
"Yes. Remember Stacy, the Nurse who told me you were having seizures in Dr Phyl's hospital? She paid for a pastry class where l learnt how to bake really yummy muffins and cakes."
"Was that how you got to work with.Mr Fiddo?"
Ava laughed.
She had really given birth to her self in Alfred's body.
"Yes." Ava said softly, reaching for him and shared a hug briefly.
Alfred's face suddenly lit up. He hopped lightly humming his song which was in its last minute.
Ava heaved a sigh, relieved this conversation was over.
Alfred got back to where his cakes were.
Eyes closed.
He puffed air to fill his cheeks.
And with a whimper of sound, loud enough so Ava could hear, Alfred said;
"I wish for a Dad like Mr Marcus."