24. Wand

“You’re late,” the man at the door says. He looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“Sorry,” I say, shifting my bag uncomfortably onto my other shoulder, “the trains were delayed.”
His expression twists into surprise, “You commuted here looking like that?”
I shrug and one of the wings snags my hair awkwardly.
“My car died.” It’s a lie, I don’t have a car, but it’s easier than explaining that I’m anti-car. Especially to a middle-aged man who lives in the suburbs and is docking me for being five minutes late.
My answer seems to have appeased him because his face relaxes a little, “Well, come in then.”
He shifts away from the front door to let me in. The hallway is filled with bright pink balloons and streamers. I blend right in.
“Is that her?” I hear a woman’s voice call from down the hallway. I rack my brain for her name seeing as I’ve been messaging about this party for weeks.
When she appears from the kitchen she grins at me in delight as she flicks a few stray blonde hairs out of her face.
”Oh look at you!” She exclaims, “You’re just perfect!”
She extends her hand towards me, “So nice to finally meet you.”
“You too,” I smile, searching her face to place her name.
“The kids are out the back, do you need anything before you get out there? Tea? Coffee? Water?” She offers.
“No, I’m fine thanks, happy to get to it,” I smile politely.
“Alright, I’ll introduce you,” the woman says, leading the way to the backyard.
As we walk down the hallway I see photos of their little girl in sleek frames. Wrapped up in a blank sandwiched between her parents at the airport. Next, as a toddler, with jet-black hair sprouting from her head in tiny pigtails. Then, at primary school, with a toothless big grin and a blunt little fringe.
I’m surprised that the kid I meet in the backyard doesn’t have the same enormous smile. Instead, she’s sitting on the steps watching the other kids playing Duck Duck Goose with a glum little face.
“This is Kim Lee,” her mother announces with a strained smile. I crouch down to meet her on her level.
“Hi, Kim Lee, my name is Sylvie, it’s nice to meet you,” I say. The kid gives me nothing more than a small, uninterested side glance. Like father like daughter, I guess.
“Well!” her mother announces, “I’ll leave you to it. You can set up the face painting over there.” She points to a table under the verandah. As I get up to leave I notice Kim Lee is following me.
She watches me closely as I set up the paints.
“You know, as the birthday girl you get to go first if you like,” I lay out the paint brushes and sponges as she considers my offer.
“Do I have to be a fairy?” she asks quietly.
“Don’t you like fairies?” I ask. She looks down past her own sparkly costume and shakes her head.
“So what do you like?” I pull the chair out for her.
“Spiderman,” she gives me a cheeky grin.
“I think we can do that,” I tell her, and suddenly I see that same kid in the photos in the hall excitedly smiling at me.

After ten minutes, there’s a little Spiderman with a blunt black fringe beaming at me. I hold up a mirror to show her and she squeals with delight, “That’s so cool!”
“One thing before you go,” I tell her as she climbs off the chair.
I pull out a wand that I had packed as party favours and hand it to her. She gives me the same unimpressed face as before. Then, she quickly turns it upside down, gripping the big star on the end like a handle. She’s fashioned it into a thin, short sword.
Before long, the other kids have noticed the birthday girl’s new toy and flock to collect theirs. I hand them out and watch Kim Lee gleefully skip off to have a playful sword fight with her friends under the amused eyes of their parents.
As the next kid clambers into the seat across from me, I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kim Lee’s mother asks me.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“This is a fairy party, why does my daughter look like Spiderman?” she crosses her arms. I feel like I’ve just pissed off a teacher.
“It’s what she asked for,” I say, not seeing the problem.
“For Christ’s sake Vanessa, leave her alone. Look how happy Kim is,” her husband pipes up from behind her.
“Kim Lee is having a fairy party. Like all the other girls in her class,” she hisses back at him. “This is unacceptable, I think you should leave.”
“Are you serious?” I reply. The kid across from me starts to wail, realising he’s not going to be a ninja turtle.
“Yes,” Vanessa shifts her hands to her hips, “This is not the service I was promised.”
I want to tell her I didn’t know I’d be attending her seventh birthday party, but I decide to hold my tongue. The parent of the kid in the chair across from me scoops him up and gives me an apologetic face as I collect my supplies.
I don’t dare to look back at Kim Lee who is happily playing with the other kids, none the wiser. Vanessa and her husband are loudly arguing in front of everyone as I sling my bag over my shoulder and swipe a couple of party pies for the walk back to the station. It takes two train rides to get home from Diamond Creek.