A Birthday Wish

Bow sat on the edge of his bed, his feet planted firmly on the floor beneath him. He was hunched forward, his arms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped before him, nervously fidgeting. The normally comfortable jeans and t-shirt that covered his body felt to him as tight and restrictive as a straightjacket. His wings, folded against his back, quivered sporadically. His eyes were clamped shut, and his breaths were shallow.

Suddenly, he raised his head and opened his eyes, looking forward towards the bathroom door. The door was shut tight, letting only a thin sliver of light through the crack at the bottom. He watched that big hunk of dead wood intently, as if expecting it to suddenly spring off its hinges and gallop across the room. When several uneventful moments had passed, he let out a frustrated sigh, then lowered his head again.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

When he could bear it no longer, he again looked back up at the door, finding it as still and silent as before. Grunting softly, he looked away.

Come on. She wants this. She needs this.

His hands clasped one another, his palms pressing together and his fingers threading so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Please. Please. She needs this. Please.

Suddenly, a sound reached his ears which, despite being muffled by the bathroom door, was clearly identifiable as that of a shaky gasp. Bow bolted upright, sitting as still as a statue upon the bed, his wide eyes boring a hole into the door. He dared not move; he dared not think. He barely dared to breathe. The seconds slowly ticked by, each one as long as a lifetime.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the door's handle turn, accompanied by a soft click. The door slowly swung inward, one inch at a time, revealing the one who stood behind it.

He saw her familiar, slender form. He saw the modest shorts and soft shirt that clothed her. He saw her hands hanging at her sides, one of them tightly clutching a small plastic stick about the length of a toothbrush. He saw her bowed head. He saw her trembling lips. He saw her clamped-shut eyes. He saw the tears running down her cheeks.

The next moment, he was on his feet, and the moment after that, he was standing before her, holding her shoulders firmly.

"Windy!" he said, his voice trembling. "Windy, I...Y-You...We..."

He stood dumbfounded, staring helplessly down at her weepy face. He wanted to do something; he wanted to say something, but could not conjure even a single sentence. His silence was not helped by the sudden trembling of his lips and the rapid moistening of his eyes.

He raged silently. He raged at his failures. He raged at his inability to give her what she wanted. He raged at his inability to fulfill his promises. Most of all, he raged at his inability to even comfort her in her time of need.

He stood there stewing until he could bear it no longer. In one swift motion, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly.

"Windy," he whispered, fighting through the beginnings of sobs. "Windy." He nuzzled her head, feeling her soft hair upon his skin. "It...It'll be alright. It'll be alright." He didn't know whether those words for her or for himself.

"Bow," said Windy, her voice soft, yet firm. "Bow."

She leaned back her head to look up at him, and he slowly looked down at her, blinking through his tears. He looked upon her lips, her damp cheeks, and as her eyelids fluttered open, he looked into her eyes, fully expecting to see within them a cold emptiness, something he had seen within them far too many times before.

The sight of those eyes shook him, therefore, as he saw within those deep wells of purple a bright, burning spark that seemed to cast a warm light upon his face. He had seen that spark before. He had seen it the day she had cheered him on to championship victory. He had seen it the day he had put a ring on her finger. He had seen it the day she had looked upon the face of her daughter for the very first time.

It was hope, clear, pure, and untainted.

He was transfixed by her gaze, mesmerized as if by some magic spell. It was not until he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the motion of something beneath her chin that he finally tore his eyes away. He looked down, down at the thing she held up between them, angled so that he could see its surface. Even with his eyes clouded with tears, he could still see the stick she held in her trembling fingers, and see, as clear as the crystal, the two distinct colorful lines that decorated it.

While his eyes immediately showed him the truth, it took much longer for that truth to sink through his thick skull and into his brain. He looked back up at Windy, then back down at the stick, moving back and forth between them. The two lines upon the stick remained unchanged, no matter how many times he gazed upon them, but every time he looked back at the face of his beloved, beautiful wife, he saw that spark within her eyes grow brighter, and saw her trembling lips stretch wider.

"W...Windy," Bow said.

"Bow," Windy replied, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Windy," said Bow, his lips slowly stretching into a smile.

"Bow!" cried Windy triumphantly.

Windy leapt up high and threw both her arms and legs around Bow in a full-body hug. He reflexively caught her in his strong arms, holding her up, even as the force of her impact sent him staggering backwards. He did not fall, his stagger instead leading to a spin, which he then continued intentionally. The two of them nuzzled each other as tears ran down the faces and sobs filled the room, sobs mixed with the sound of steadily rising laughter. With every spin, that laughter grew louder and heartier, those two grown adults soon giggling and cackling like a couple of wild schoolchildren.

They laughed and cried and spun together until they dizzily fell back onto their bed, Bow landing harmlessly on his back with Windy lying on his chest. Their laughter slowly died off as they nuzzled and kissed each other.

They laid like that for a long time, just savoring each other, savoring that moment, and savoring the thought of every moment that would come after. They had been through so much, the two of them, and they would go through much more; they both knew that well. They would face the same troubles and hardships they had faced many times over the years, but they would do so gladly, knowing that they would also get to relive all of those beautiful moments they had thought they would never again get to experience. And best of all, they would get to share those moments with their favorite person in the world, letting her make memories of her own, and seeing the countless smiles on the face of that soon-to-be big sister.

Truly, there is nothing better in the world than being a parent.