2.19 Don't be Sad

Since Marko's death, Persis has been obsessively painting. Guy is mildly confused when she decides to make a portrait of him. 

"Why do you want a copy of me? Is that a clone?" Guy gasps, "Is that where I came from? Did someone paint me and I just...appeared?" 

"Hmmm," Persis intones with a long stroke of her brush, "We're not really sure where you came from, Guy." 

Guy scratches his ears, but then lets his hands drop limply to the side. The teachers at school got really mad when he used to scratch them, back when he still thought people were listening to his thoughts. He knows now that the only person who could hear his thoughts is probably Tula's aunt, Tulip. 

Thinking about her glowing eyes and long teeth make him uncomfortable, so he picks distractedly at his sleeve. 

"So I could be a painting come to life then." 

Persis glances at him, "That's not how children are made." 

Guy covers his ears, "We already learned about this in school! I don't need to hear about it again!" He can't help but relive that day; he had asked if all kids appeared after drinking potions like he did. The teacher's effort not to laugh confused him, the snickers from the other children even more so. And after finding out how exactly children are made without potions, Guy had never felt more bewildered in his life. There weren't any parents to bring him here. He just...showed up. 

Guy quickly scampered off before anything more about "the birds and the bees" could be said. Persis finishes his painting mere hours later, but feels no satisfaction. Instead, she wonders if she should paint Tula. 

Funny how there was a time when Persis didn't really care about saving memories. It just didn't seem important; who needs mementos when you can just remember? Who needs pictures when you have the person with you? 

What she didn't realize is that people don't stick around as long as she thought. 

Tula eats yet another lunch alone. Guy's trying to play Sim Gnubb by himself outside, and despite her earlier wish to get fit, Tula finds herself too lethargic to play any sports. 

Another weekend, another solitary two days. She needs to come up with something to break the monotony. 

She pauses. There is something she could try. 

She hasn't even so much as touched the baking oven before today, but for her plan to work, she'll need to whip something up. 

She also throws in a few tears. Persis is absorbed in her painting, but glances over. "What's wrong, Tula?" 

Tula wipes at her eyes, "I thought grandpa could teach me how to bake... I just kept forgetting to ask." She sniffs, then wipes her eyes on her sleeve. "I-I thought it would be fun..." 

Persis looks back at her canvas, now deep in thought. Teaching the kids to bake would have been fun for Marko. He would have probably gotten very into character, proclaiming himself as the best baker in the city or some other light hearted nonsense.

She misses him. 

Paolo comes out for lunch a little while later, surprised to see Tula eating at this hour. 

"What's with all the pastries?" Muffins, cookies, cupcakes, and even a small pie are stacked on top of the small oven. 

"It's me and Guy's birthday, so I thought I'd make food for everyone and throw a party," Tula says brightly. 

Paolo freezes. Birthday? Today? How did he forget? 

"Party?" he says dumbly. 

"Yeah, I was going to give you, Guy, and grandma some of the stuff I made. Then if we have some candles we can put them in the cup cakes later and blow them out, like in a real birthday party!" 

Paolo's gut wrenches. "Don't you want to invite over some of your friends?"

Tula shrugs, "I didn't want to bother you and grandma with a big party. I know you guys probably don't want to see other people right now..." 

As she thought, a look of immense guilt flashes across her father's face. 

"I'll call some people." 

"Oh you don't have to do that! I'm used to being alone...so the other kids might not even come... it's fine," she replies with a false cheer. She lets her lower lip quiver a bit, "I bet they're busy anyways..." 

Paolo's jaw clenches. He is not going to let his daughter down. Not today. 

"You and Guy are going to have a party. I'll take care of it." 

The first step was, of course, to call Xara. With all of her friends- and connections with the other parents in school through her son- getting a few party guests over would be no problem. 

"What am I supposed to be doing?" Guy asks her anxiously. Tula is serving muffins to the guests, Persis is fiddling with the stereo, and Paolo is hurriedly cleaning the rest of the house. Guy has never been in a birthday party before. There's so much attention on him and Tula. 

"It's your day, Guy. Just relax!" Xara says, clapping his shoulder, "We're all here for you and Tula!"

Gregory doesn't see why he has to be here for Guy. He's so weird, always saying random stuff and not paying attention. He makes everyone uncomfortable. 

But his cousin Tula is here too...and Tula is popular. She's nice and friendly, and super smart. Getting on her good side would be a good idea. Guy probably won't talk to him anyways. 

Gregory complains about the cold to his mother, barely glancing at his aunt, Tulip. Gregory's seen her plenty of times since they used to live together, so he doesn't feel the need to greet her properly. 

Tulip looks at her niece, bubbly and chatty for the first time since the funeral, and smiles. She's proud of Tula for being so strong. 

Paolo isn't in the room, but Tulip thinks about him anyways. She was shocked to receive the invitation to this party, and hesitated when Paolo had called her. 

It's what dad would have wanted, Paolo said. 

So here she is, pulling herself away from work. 

Pablo is in prison, Keith has done his part, the "key players" as Sterling calls them are in prison or being indicted. It's been a busy time for the precinct, and everyone has found themselves stuck with immense workloads. She was hesitant to leave work early tonight, but at the urging of both Captain Sterling and her husband (who Xara also called and invited) over text, she left some of her paperwork with Roman and came here. 

As her dad would have said, there are other things you need to make time for.

Tula knows she should make a wish, as is custom. But her mind is blank; there's not much she can't get without a bit of effort. She quickly decides on the "normal" thing to say. 

"I wish mom were here," she says tearfully. 

Paolo slowly lowers his party horn. 

"...I do too. Oh Tula, don't cry..." 

She takes a deep, composing breath and looks at her cake with determination. What to wish for? her expression seems to say. In reality, she's thinking about what a strange ritual this is; extinguishing a fire to mark the passage of time. Whose idea was that?

But as she must, she follows tradition and blows out her candles. 

She doesn't feel too different. If she looks awkward, it's the sudden height change. She read about the vertigo, but nothing quite prepares you for the instantaneous growth spurt. 

"If only grandpa could have been here..." 

Persis wishes her husband could have seen their granddaughter become a teen. She wonders what silly comments he would have made. Something about "keeping the boys away" for sure. 

She'll just have to be here in his place.

Next it's Guy's turn. 

This is a smile of pure panic. 

He begins to hyperventilate when he sees just how many people are staring at him. What if he does something weird? All these people will be able to see it... 

If  anyone thinks"monstrously sprouting into an adolescent" is weird, then they're hiding it pretty well.  

Paolo sees Tulip...

Then looks away. 

For a split second, Tulip feels tears well up in her eyes. She never meant to hurt anyone. She doesn't want her brother to drift away from her. They were so close, once. Now they're barely speaking. 

Just as quickly, she recomposes herself. What's done is done. She's made her choices. 

And now she has to face the consequences. 

Not wanting to impose any further on her brother's family, Tulip gets into her outerwear and starts making her way home. She can take advantage of her night off and spend it with Rodney. 

The rest of the guests quickly follow suit. With no one else around to watch her, Tula "lets go" and allows the tears to flow. 

"I miss grandpa so much," she sniffs. 

Guy walks out of the bathroom and opens his mouth to ask about birthday cake. Persis elbows him lightly in the gut. He looks between Persis and Paolo comforting Tula before it dawns on him. 

Damn, I have the worst timing. Not knowing quite what to do, he picks up a plate of cake from the dining table and backs away...slowly... 

"Grandpa wouldn't want you to be sad on your birthday," Paolo hates himself a little for repeating nearly word for word the expression his dad said to him when Krista died, but he knows it's true. Besides that, seeing his daughter cry is like a knife twisting in his heart. She's just aged up! She should be excited for school, or calling her friends, not being sad... 

"I'm sorry...I just miss him so much, dad..." 

Paolo can feel tears welling up in his eyes, "I miss him too." 

She takes a deep breath and wipes her tears away, "But you're right... I should be happy. For him...and for mom." 

A ghost of a smile passes over Paolo's face, "Yeah... for your mom too." 

Citing the late time and high emotions of the day, Paolo quickly goes to bed. As soon as he's walking up the stairs, Tula lets her expression drop. 

Her father is taking quite a while to get out of this bothersome state. Since, as a teenager, she's dependent on him, this is quite problematic. 

She'll just have to bide her time, it seems. 

Paolo enters his bedroom and goes to the dresser. Before getting out his pajamas, he pauses and looks at his photos with Krista. He hasn't been able to bring himself to take them down. 

"Tula and Guy had their teen birthday today," he murmurs. Krista's smile remains frozen. 

He glances at their prom photo. "They'll be going to prom soon enough..." He remembers the night he and Krista first met; her awkward invitation to dance, the way she fumbled with his phone when she gave him her number... 

He clears his throat, "I wish you could be here to see it..." 

The photos can only offer their silence.