"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness"
II Corinthians 12:9

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Thomas stood by the living room entrance, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped, observing the party all around him.

"Aww, this sucks! I wanted to play next! When do you think they'll be done?"

Two boys ate potato chips from a bowl on the table, leaning against the edge and complaining about having to wait for the PlayStation.

"I dunno. Billy's the champ, so ... probably soon? Let's go grab a soda in the kitchen."

One of them huffed and threw his arms in the air, before stomping across the living room.

There was barely any space left on the Anderson's dining room table. Desserts and treats of all sorts laid spread on its surface. Small cupcakes poked their little bulbous heads over the trays of their container tower, forming a rainbow-colored scheme. Yellow icing over the ones on the top tray, sky blue icing on the second tray, white icing on the third tray, the bottom tray consisted of alternating pink and green icing. Their undulating frosty tops were adorned with sprinkles, reminding Thomas of the colorful buildings along the hillside of Garipçe and the day he shared with Christina at Ali Usta.

A red-haired girl reached over and swiftly grabbed one of the pink cupcakes. Her mouth greedily bit into the pastry with such a passion, that her chin and nose were left covered with pink splotches. Hypnotized by a sweet-laden euphoria, she wiped at her face with the back of her hand and absentmindedly scraped off the sticky substance on the side of her dress.

Three children ran by him, through the archway, and past a group of balloons tied to the back of a chair by the table. The balloons swayed violently to the sides in their wake. When they ran toward the red-haired girl, one of them tapped her shoulder and yelled: "You're it!"

She groaned, quickly grabbed another cupcake and ran after the group. Her loud screams, and mouth full of partially chewed food as she chased them, made her seem feral.

Music and the sound of roaring engines from a video game emanated from a set of speakers next to the television. In front, boys played and talked among themselves, occasionally elbowing each other competitively. A girl giggled as she bumped into one player, reversed, drove forward, paralleled parked on the racetrack and caused a giant pileup of cars. The boys protested.

Uninterested in all the activities, Thomas walked to a large window behind the couch, kneeled on the cushion and sadly stared at his driveway. Outside, the rain cascaded in streaming, massive swarms of drops that quickly drifted sideways, forming moving walls that aggressively pelted every surface they came into contact with.

Where was Christina? He wondered. Did she take too long to leave her house? Was her mom called into work? His birthday party began almost three hours after he saw her, and she still hadn't arrived.

She would've called. She wouldn't walk through this. She would've called.

A gnawing feeling overcame him over an hour ago, but at that very moment, as he saw the violent thrashing of the world outside, it amplified in the pit of his stomach. It was a peculiar feeling and it was making him anxious. He didn't know where it was coming from, nor why. Perhaps it was due to the storm outside? Perhaps that was what he was fearing? Or maybe he just missed her. Shaking his head, he sighed and rested his head on the couch.

"Thomas! Hey, there you are. Do you want to start getting ready for the birthday cake?" his mother asked.

"No," he mumbled, "I wanna wait for Christina."

"I know sweetheart, but the other kids will want to have some cake soon and see you opening their presents. Once the rain dies down, their parents will be here to pick them up. We should do that before. Don't you want to see all the presents the other kids brought you?"

When she didn't receive a response, she continued speaking.

"Maybe Christina's mother picked her up late and they're waiting for the rain to die down?"

"I don't care! I'm not blowing on the candles until she's here! She shared her birthday cake wish with me. I'll wait until she gets here." He continued staring out the window.

His mother sighed, she didn't want to see her son like that on his birthday. It was supposed to be a fun day for him—a happy day. "I knew I should've called Veronica and asked her if it was ok to bring Christina with us." Sitting on the armrest, she gazed at him and rubbed his back, "how about we give her mom a call and find—,"

"Honey! Darling Celia, the love of my life, pleeease! A little help here?" James begged, balancing a large cake in his arms as he wobbled and dodged the occasional running child. "It's a minefield!"

"All right, let me go clear the table for you. James! Watch it with that little girl!"

"Where? Where is she?" he panicked.

Pointing to his side, "running toward you ... your five o'clock! Quick! Left-step-back, now," she spoke rapidly.

The red-haired girl giggled as she brushed by James's leg—completely unaware of the mess she would've caused.

"Cupcake monster." Thomas muttered, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"I'm going to go help clear the table for your father. Before he either squishes some child with his big feet ... or ends up splattering your cake all over the carpet. I promise, I'll call Christina's mom right after. Ok, sweetheart?" she offered him a reassuring smile as she stood up.

This brightened his mood slightly, he returned a half-smile and nodded.

After a few minutes, Celia walked to her bedroom to call Christina's mother, away from all the noise and any interruptions. Thomas followed close behind.

"Hello, Vero—," she paused for a moment, her expression quickly changed. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

The reaction made him uneasy and he whispered to her, but she failed to notice. Her eyes roamed the room as she remained quiet, slowly walking to the bed and sitting down on its edge. "Oh, no! A car? And they're operating on her, right now?"

He tugged on her sleeve, "mom! What's happening? Is Christina coming?"

"I'm so sorry, Veronica. I hope ... the surgery goes well. Please call me as soon as she gets out of the operating room ... since it might be a while until we can go to the hospital."

As his mother hung up the phone, she gazed silently at her feet.

"Mom!" Thomas yelled. It hadn't been the only time, he'd been calling out to her repeatedly since she finished the phone call. Finally, she acknowledged him.

"Sit down, Thomas. There's something I have to tell you."

Her hand trembled as it pat the space next to her on the bed. When she looked at him, her watery brown eyes fought away the tears that rapidly pooled within them. She momentarily gazed up and wiped at her lashes with a curled index finger before looking at him again.

Sitting beside her, he waited, fidgeting uncomfortably when she continued to stare at him with a deafening silence. Her eyes seemed to search for something on his face, as if either trying to memorize each small detail or find the words that escaped her at that moment.

She breathed in deeply and straightened her back, "Christina ... was hit by a car a couple of hours ago," her broken voice betrayed the confidence she wanted to display as she struggled to say the words, "... while she was crossing the street. She's in the hospital right now."

"What do you mean?"

He scrunched his eyebrows. What was she talking about? Christina couldn't be in the hospital, that must've been a mistake.

"What do you mean?" He asked again.

Why was she hit by a car? How could she had been hit by a car? Christina would've dodge it, wouldn't she? Many questions ran through his mind. He shook his head repeatedly, "no. You're lying."

"Sweetheart," she gripped his shoulder, "Christina was hit by a car and ... was hurt pretty bad. The doctors are trying to do everything they can to help her."

Thomas looked around the room and quickly stood, "I wanna go see her!"

"Oh ... Thomas, we can't just leave the house right now. The other kids—"

"I wanna go, NOW!"

She remained silent for a long while.

"Please! I wanna go see Christina!"

Knowing that nothing would change his mind, she nodded. "I'll ask your father to take you. There's no way I can leave him here alone babysitting all these crazy kids. Come on, let's go talk to him."

*****

***Ah, five minutes late for the deadline! Made a change in the previous chapter—after much consideration. There was another portion after this, but decided to move it to the following chapter. There are a few things I will add to the hospital scene, things I remembered and thoughts as I waited when I was a child [separating it from things I've experienced in one as an adult]. It's a different event, when I was close to Thomas's age.***