Deep breaths, that’s what I told myself when Ariel, my ever-optimistic (and slightly chaotic) sister, volunteered to plan Grandpa’s 90th birthday. Sure, a surprise party sounded sweet, but knowing Ariel, it would veer off course faster than a runaway cake trolley. And it did!
Ariel and I always had a complicated relationship.
As siblings, we shared countless memories, both good and bad but our differences often led to friction. Ariel, younger and more carefree, had a knack for getting into trouble and dragging others into her chaotic plans.
I was the responsible older sister, always cleaning up after her messes. We both cherished our bond with Gramps deeply, despite our constant squabbles.
Gramps had been a constant source of wisdom and comfort, especially after Dad passed away.
He was our rock, and his 90th birthday was a milestone we all wanted to celebrate meaningfully.
When Ariel volunteered to organize Gramps’ birthday party, I felt immediately suspicious. My sister wasn’t known for her planning skills. One evening, while having tea with Mom, I could not help but voice my concerns.
“Mom, are you sure about Ariel handling Gramps’ party?
She’s never planned anything like this before,” I said, swirling my spoon in my cup, trying to keep my tone light.
Mom looked at me over her glasses, her expression both stern and patient. “Jocelyn, you need to give your sister a chance. She’s trying to do something nice for Gramps.”
“But she’s so scatterbrained.
Remember last Thanksgiving when she forgot to defrost the turkey?”
Mom sighed and set her cup down. “That was one time, and we managed, didn’t we? Trust her, Jocelyn.
She wants to step up.”
I took a deep breath, trying to let go of my worry. “Alright, I’ll try. But I’m still going to keep an eye on things.”
Mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“I know you will do it, dear. But let her have this. Gramps deserves a great party, and Ariel is part of this family too.”
Reluctantly, I backed down and sent Ariel the $50 she asked for.
A few days later, the day of the party arrived. I walked into the restaurant and immediately felt my stomach twisting.
A sushi place? It was a stark contrast to what I’d envisioned for Grandpa’s 90th birthday.
The crowd inside was a mix of mostly drunk university students, clearly Ariel’s friends. My stomach lurched.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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