Chapter 18 - A Birthday of Voices
Six months later, on a brilliant Sunday afternoon in May, the lawns of the Lake Washington estate were transformed into a chaotic, brightly colored carnival for the triplets' sixth birthday party.
There were no velvet ropes, no society photographers, and no aristocratic socialites sipping champagne in silence. Instead, the grounds were filled with thirty screaming, laughing children from the girls' new private elementary school—a progressive academy where ASL was taught alongside Spanish and French as a standard curriculum language.
A massive bouncy castle occupied the south lawn; a face-painting station sat under the blooming cherry blossom trees, and two tables were piled high with presents, pizza boxes, and three separate custom birthday cakes—chocolate for Mia, strawberry for Chloe, and vanilla bean for Lily.
I stood on the stone terrace overlooking the lawn, wearing a simple summer sundress, watching Chloe chase three of her classmates across the grass while barking like a puppy—a game of tag that was gloriously, unapologetically loud.
“They're the loudest kids in the entire grade,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.
Julian stepped out onto the terrace, handing me a glass of iced tea. He wore shorts and a faded linen shirt, looking years younger than the exhausted, haunted titan who had walked into the Penthouse Bistro a year ago. The silver wedding band he used to spin nervously on his finger was gone—replaced two months ago by a simple, clean platinum band he wore on his right hand as a peaceful memorial to Sarah, leaving his left hand entirely free.
“They earned the right to be loud, Julian,” I smiled, taking a sip of the cold tea as I watched Mia bravely standing on top of the slide, shouting instructions to her friends with the natural born leadership of a future CEO.
“They did,” Julian agreed softly. He stepped behind me, his arms wrapping securely around my waist, his chin resting comfortably on my shoulder as we watched our family play in the sunlight. “And so did you.”
Suddenly, the microphone setup near the cake tables screeched with a brief burst of static.
We looked over to see Lily standing on a wooden chair by the cakes, holding the wireless microphone in both hands. The entire lawn of children and parents fell silent, turning to look at the smallest triplet.
Lily didn't look terrified by the sudden attention. She looked right up at the terrace where Julian and I were standing.
“Attention, everybody!” Lily projected her voice into the microphone, clear and ringing across the gardens. “It’s time to sing Happy Birthday! But before we eat the cake, Mia and Chloe and I have a speech to make!”
Mia and Chloe trotted over, climbing onto chairs beside their sister.
“We want to thank our Dad for building us the best house in the world,” Mia shouted into the mic.
“And we want to thank Elena for teaching us how to use our hands and our mouths!” Chloe chimed in.
Then, all three girls raised their hands in unison toward the terrace. They didn't use ASL because they were afraid to speak; they used it as a badge of honor, signing the words simultaneously as they shouted them at the top of their lungs for the entire party to hear:
May you like
“We love our family! Best birthday ever!”
The lawn erupted into cheers and applause from the parents and kids. Julian laughed—a rich, deep, booming sound that I hadn't heard in all the months I had known him—and pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to the side of my neck before taking my hand to lead me down the terrace stairs to cut the cakes.
