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The three of us bolted upright.
I couldn’t begin to guess what Mom had waiting for me. It was true I guessed all year, and she always came out bigger and better than anything I imagined.
Mom returned to the room carrying a small wooden box that she placed on my lap. A closer look gifted me an intricate rose design carved into the lid. I traced the petals, fingertips gliding over the sanded wood and prickly thorns.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
I did. Nestled on a satin bed was a small dagger with a slim, curved hilt. Etched into the pommel was another rose.
“Your dad left this for you before he...” She trailed off, but she didn’t need to say the rest. Before he was deployed to the battlefield where he was killed, leaving behind his wife and two-year-old daughter. “He told me that if anything ever happened to him, I was to give this to you on your sixteenth birthday.”
Kylie and Dina huddled around me. I barely heard their oohs, aahs, and whispering as I removed the scabbard.
My eyes reflected in the blade, capturing my wonder at the curved body and honed tip. Had it really sat in a box for fourteen years? It looked brand new, ready and waiting.
“This was Dad’s?” I asked softly. “But I didn’t think they issued daggers to soldiers in the military?”
Mom laughed. “And you are correct. This was your great-great-grandmother’s—the very first Aella Vanda. You know that Aella means warrior.” Her eyes shone as she took my hand in hers. “Your ancestor was a warrior. She fought against a tyrant ruling over her village, and she won. That’s the blood in your veins, baby,” she said to my wide eyes. “You come from a long line of fighters who never quit, never surrendered, and never stood by while innocent people suffered.”
I swallowed hard. “Like my dad.”
“Yes, Aella.” She pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Just like Daddy.”
Replacing the scabbard, I crushed the dagger to my chest. “Thanks, Mom, and...” I turned my head to the potted chrysanthemums on the living room table. Mom always kept them in the house. Chrysanthemums for Crisanto. “Thanks, Dad.”
“So, uh,” Dina broke in. “Is that it? That’s the surprise?”
“Di,” Kylie hissed—although she looked disappointed too.
“Sorry to let you down, ladies,” Mom replied, giving them knowing looks. “How about my homemade lavender honey ice cream to make up for it?”
“Ooh, I’ll take some.”
We hung out, messed around, and gorged on cake and ice cream for the rest of the afternoon. Soon, I was waving my friends out the door and locking up the flower shop. I headed back into the apartment to find Mom on the couch, staring at the dagger. I flicked down to her hands. She was rubbing them together so hard her knuckles were turning white.
“Mom, you okay?”
She jumped. “Huh, what? Oh, yes, baby. I’m fine.” She got up and busied herself with clearing away the plates and cleaning up. “It’s just... Uh...”
“It’s just what?” I blinked at the whirlwind sweeping around the room and into the kitchen. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m perfect, Aella. How could anything be wrong on the best day of the year?”
I peeked my head around the corner into our galley kitchen. Mom turned her back to me, but I saw her chewed-lip frown clear as day in the stove hood.
Definitely not fine. She must’ve dealt with another bride or groomzilla that day who screamed at her because the marigolds weren’t yellow enough.
In that case, I knew what would cheer her up.
“Mom, will you tell me the story again?”
She turned, frown already melting away. “Really? You’re not tired of hearing it yet?”
“Never.”
“Oh, well, then buckle up because you’re old enough to hear the R-rated version now.”
