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.
Giving Ariel a Chance
“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.
Not Quite What We Expected
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.
“Ariel, what is this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm as I approached her.
She beamed at me, clearly oblivious to the disaster she had orchestrated. “It’s Gramps’ party, Joce! Isn’t it great? Everyone’s having so much fun!”
I glanced over at Gramps, who was sitting quietly at the table, trying to figure out how to use chopsticks. “Ariel, Gramps doesn’t even eat sushi. And who are all these people?”
“Oh, come on, Joce! GRANDPA IS HAPPY TO HANG OUT WITH THE YOUTH! AREN’T YOU, GRAMPS?” Ariel shouted, her voice echoing across the room. Gramps smiled weakly, still fumbling with the chopsticks.
I moved closer to Gramps and sat beside him. “Here, Gramps, let me help you with that,” I said, taking the chopsticks from his trembling hands and picking up a piece of sushi. “You don’t have to eat this if you don’t want to.”
Gramps patted my hand. “Thank you, Jocelyn. I’m fine. Just happy to be surrounded by so many young people,” he said softly, though I could see the discomfort in his eyes.
As the evening dragged on, I felt more and more out of place. Ariel’s friends were loud and obnoxious, clearly enjoying themselves without a care in the world. I was just about to suggest to Gramps that we leave when the bill came. But Ariel, in her usual fashion, handed it directly to Gramps.
“Here you go, Gramps! Happy birthday! Time to pay up!” she said with a laugh, pushing the bill towards him.
