#anyway doc app gotta go adjknfasd

[jupiterdrcps]

and this part was for her, this part was for her, does she remember? ✘ sofia rivera.

summary: sofia picks up her dad at the saloon, talks to arden about birthdays, and remembers one particular good birthday she had when she was younger.  ooc; not edited bc i don’t have time today, might edit later who knows, this is about 3k long oops. mentions of drunkness, it’s a little sad but it’s me who wrote it are we surprised. anyway happy sofia day

Sofia closed up the library around 11:30, having given herself an hour to work on book details, she had been having quite the writer's block lately, with only half an hour til her birthday she decided to stop. A small reward for only having written a few words for the first time in a couple of months. 

She walks home, unlocking several locks on the door only to be greeted to a dark and cold house. The only sound you can hear is the wind rapping against the windows. She turns on the light in the kitchen noticing all the empty glasses, dishes that had been piled up throughout the last couple of days, food wrappers strewn about. It wasn’t there when she left, her dad must have gone through their food while she was at work. She sighs, placing it all in the trash before going into the living room. Her father’s chair is vacant of him, and she walks down the hallway, knocking three times on his door and hearing nothing. 

She sighs again, heading to her room and unloading her work bag and placing her computer on her bed. She changes into something warmer, knowing exactly where her dad is. She tries giving him a call anyway. It goes straight to voicemail. 

She looks at the clock on her phone now. Minutes to midnight. 

Sofia had never been one to really celebrate her birthday. Though, she had always wanted to. She just felt like it didn’t matter as much. More often than not her birthday made her sad, a reminder that her mom didn’t stick around long enough to want to celebrate it with her. She often wonders if her mom thinks of her on her birthday. She never let herself think about it too long to figure out the answer. 

She’s more comfortable now, taking the car over to the Saloon. She’s grateful for once that her father didn’t try and drive there himself. 

When she gets inside, she sees her father at his usual spot, there’s a few people with him, most she doesn’t recogize, they’re talking, drinking together. She always feels like a fish out of water here. The only small saving grace is her memories, at least, the very recent one on Valentine’s Day with Elaine, but even then, that memory is hard for her to grasp onto when she sees how sloshed her dad is already. 

He turns in his seat to see who’s walked through the door and he smiles this lopsided smile, holding his glass up in the air. He was never one to draw attention to himself, for the most part, he was a homebody but the Saloon was an exception. It’s hard to feel paranoid when you’re too drunk to realize it. 

“It’s my daughter,” he says, a little loud for him, “it’s her birthday!” She winces a little. 

She looks over at the bartender, one that she doesn’t recognize, she’s wearing an apron that’s not all the way on, tied around her waist. She’s watching this interaction. 

“We should get celebratory shots.” Someone next to her father says, his eyes light up, agreeing. 

Sofia starts shaking her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s fine.” She walks over towards her dad, wanting to urge him to come home so he can get some sleep, but he waves his hand at her to fuck off. She sighs, watching as the shots start to line up. 

Sofia looks at the bartender for a moment before looking down at the alcohol that she didn’t want. She watches as the bartender grabs the water gun, pouring it into a shot and discreetly sliding it over to Sofia. 

Sofia graciously takes it, giving the woman a small nod. 

The shots get served out and Sofia cheers’ her dad’s shot throwing the water back, sliding it over. 

“We should leave soon.” She tells her dad, placing a hand on her father’s shoulder. He ignores her to talk to his bar neighbour. 

She shakes her head walking over to the very far end of the bar, grabbing an unoccupied seat and watching her dad. 

It had been such a long time since she had a real conversation with her dad, she sometimes forgets what it used to be like. She can’t remember the last coherent conversation she had with him that wasn’t filled with riddled anxiety and paranoia. She can’t remember the last time she heard him genuinely laugh at something that he thought was funny. Or smile. 

She missed her dad’s smile. 

 The girl that had given her the water shot mosey’s her way over towards her, fingers tapping against the hardwood and stops when she’s in front of Sofia. 

“So, is it really your birthday?”

Sofia looks up at the clock and watches as it turns 12:03am. 

“Yeah.” she smiles a little, but it doesn’t catch her eye. 

The woman nods, fingers still drumming against the hardwood. 

“Cool. Do you want a drink?” 

Sofia shakes her head and is about to say something before she interrupts. 

“That’s not alcohol,” she smiles at Sofia, “I can make you my favourite drink. It’s very simple but it has cherries in it.” 

Sofia kind of laughs and nods. 

“Sure.” 

The woman grabs the soda gun and a syrup of some sort and a little thing of cherries. She mixes it and then slides it over to Sofia. 

“It’s a Roy Rogers.” 

Sofia takes a sip of it. It’s sweet, and nice, and Sofia is touched that she made it for her. 

“Thank you, um….?” 

“Oh. Arden. I’d shake your hand but I got cherry juice on my fingers.” 

Sofia smiles, taking another sip. 

“Sofia.” She says, realizing she never said her name. 

“Happy birthday, Sofia.” Arden raises a glass that she’s already made for herself, taking a long gulp. 

“May I interest you in a veggie burger I made earlier? I’m trying out new creations and I’m not sure how it tastes. I’d ask my coworker but she’s been busy for most of the night.” 

Sofia realizes that she hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. She nods her head. 

Arden goes back into the kitchen and comes back with what looks like a loaded burger. 

“Behold.” She says with a proud smile, “Not named yet.” 

Sofia takes a good look at it, sizing it up since there was quite a few things in it. She takes a bite and is surprised by the taste. 

“Is… is there jam in there?” she asks, looking up at Arden. 

She nods her head very enthusiastically, “Yep! My dad is a farmer, I took some of the jam he doesn’t know what to do with and started to make my own concoction. The vibe I’m going for is like, Thanksgiving but like. Better. And without turkey it’s just a burger. With no gravy. Or mashed potatoes. Okay, the jam is like the only thing that really kind of correlates to Thanksgiving even though it tastes nothing like cranberry sauce, but it’s sweet!” 

Sofia kind of snorts at that, taking another bite and tasting the jam, and finding that she actually likes it. There’s a sweet and savoury taste to it, the ingredients were fresh but that was to be expected in the valley, and she liked whatever aioli sauce that was in it. Apparently a “secret sauce” that Arden wouldn’t tell her. 

While Arden explains her burger ideas for the Saloon, Sofia finishes the veggie burger and pushes the plate away from her. She’s getting her wallet out and Arden shakes her head. 

“No, I’ll pay for it. It’s your birthday. What kind of dick move would that be if I made you pay for food I made you try and eat?” 

Sofia insists but Arden pushes her hand away each time she tries. 

They stand in silence, Arden washing cups, and Sofia watches her father. 

He’s gotten into that quiet state that he often gets himself into. Where the night finally takes its toll on him but he still wants to drink. Still wants to be surrounded by people while he can, until it’s too much. 

Sofia taps her fingers against her glass feeling that heaviness in her chest that she always feels when it comes to her dad. 

“So,” Arden says coming back, sliding her another Roy Rogers. “Give me your best birthday memory.”

“Oh.” She says, feeling that heaviness again. “I don’t really have one that stands out. I got a stuffed animal from my dad once. It was one that I had really wanted and he got it for me. That was nice.” 

Arden smiles, looking down. 

“Where I’m from, birthdays were a big thing. The bigger the better. It was also a social status kind of thing.” 

Sofia frowns at that. “Seems like it was more for other people than for you.”

Arden laughs. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

“Birthdays are… quite hard, I feel like.” 

“I don’t disagree with you.” 

Sofia takes another drink and sighs. 

“You have had a good birthday before though?” Arden asks, a little more gently. 

Sofia’s smile is soft. “Yeah. I had one really good birthday.” 

She feels something stuck in her throat as she says it, and she looks away, her eyes finding her dad again. She doesn’t know why she feels like crying but she blames it on the weight of the day. She gulps it down, pushes that feeling back and grabs her wallet out again. 

“I better pay for his bill.” She says to Arden, scared to see the amount. 

Arden nods, ringing up the total. She stands there at the till for a moment and looks up at Sofia and shakes her head. “I got it.” 

Sofia looks at her confused. “No, I’m sure it’s very high. Here.” She’s handing her her card and Arden shakes her head.

“No, really. I got it.” Arden slides her own card, and grabs one of those to go cups and puts whatever Sofia didn’t finish in the cup and topping it with more soda and cherries. 

“It’s hard,” Arden says, “And I get it.” her eyes briefly looking over at Sofia’s dad. 

Sofia doesn’t know what to say. Thank you didn’t seem to be enough. 

“Happy birthday.” Arden says, her smile small and sad. “I hope this birthday is a good one for you too.” 

Sofia says thank you again, trying to get her father into the car as gracefully as she can. He fights it for a moment before realizing how tired he is. She secures him in his seat and walks over to the drivers side and starts heading home. 

Her father’s head is resting against the window, his eyes closed, he’s saying something under his breath but she doesn’t know what he’s saying. She can’t really understand it. She tries just to focus her eyes on the road, but she can’t help but drift her eyes over to him, wondering what he’s thinking about, imagining what he was like at her age, knowing that at her age he had already had Sofia. 

She thinks of Arden’s question about her good birthday memory, and she hadn’t said anything then, trying too hard to push it away because despite it being such a good memory it hurt.

*

She’s six, in this memory, having woken up excited for the day. It’s young enough to be excited for birthdays again, thinking that they were magical days were you actually feel a difference in your age, maybe even a little bit taller, no thanks to her father telling her that at each birthday you grew just an inch taller. Sofia believed it, because she believed anything her father told her. 

She was meant to have a party, they had invited people from her class to come by. There were no real invitations set out, just a tiny card of their home address and the theme. 

Sofia had woken up early to get dressed for her big day, already wanting to wear her costume. Her dad was making breakfast in the kitchen of Sofia’s favourite. It was a frittata dish, with potatoes on the side. Sofia had sat at her chair and swung her feet as she waited quietly at the table. 

When her father turned around he had jumped at the sight of Sofia making her laugh. 

“Hi.” she said, hands folded underneath her chin. “Big day today.” She says with a wide smile. 

“I wonder why.” Her father mused, cutting a slice of the frittata and placing the potatoes and fruits on the dish, sliding it over to her. 

“Oh, it’s your birthday.” He says, grabbing the mug of hot chocolate that he had been saving for her. “Happy birthday!” He tops the hot chocolate with whip cream and adds purple and pink sprinkles on the top for her. 

“It is!” She grabs the hot chocolate, taking a sip of it. 

“So, did you feel taller when you woke up?” 

Sofia nods her head enthusiastically. “Yep. I think we should measure me.” 

“We can do it after breakfast.” 

They eat together, her father is telling her about something he saw in the stars last night when she was asleep. Sofia, hanging on his every word. He turns the radio up, and they listen to all of his favourite songs on a mixtape he made for Sofia’s birthday. He made one every year, labelling it her age for her to have when she’s older. 

(Of course, by the time she turned nine he had completely stopped making them.)

Sofia and her father work around the house, setting up chairs, opening up the windows for once to let the nice cool breeze in. Her father prepares the food for later having gone on a big shopping trip in Zuzu city. They had made a day out of it. Her father didn’t like going out much, always a little bit terrified of big crowds but it was for Sofia. 

But by the time that people were meant to come, they didn’t. 

Sofia’s uncle had stopped by, had a couple of drinks with her dad, but even he had to leave early. 

Sofia had ran off into the forest by their mobile home. 

She had sat on a stump of a tree that had fallen down in the windstorm they had about a month ago. She had looked up at the trees and wondered if there was anybody else out there that felt the way that she did. And she thought about all of those stories that her father had told her about how there was something out there, someone out there that probably felt the same way that we did, and it always made her feel like she wasn’t so alone. 

She had heard footsteps behind her and it was her dad, holding something behind his back. She had smiled at him but turned to look away, wiping her eyes and fixing her hair. 

He sat down next to her, looked up at the trees with her and eventually he had wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She remembers how it felt, resting against her father, how warm he was, how comforting it felt to know that despite everything there was someone here, on this planet, that loved her. 

“I think it was my fault,” he started off, “why people didn’t come.” 

Sofia had shook her head.

“I should have sent out actual invitations.” 

Sofia wants to say, people wouldn’t have come anyway. Kids at school didn’t talk to her much. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. 

“It’s okay.” She says, patting his knee. “I gotta wear my costume.” 

She looks down at her Mythbusters costume, one that they had searched for forever. 

“You did.” her father smiles, squeezing her shoulder. “I have something else for you.”

He hands her the toy he had been holding, it was a stegosaurus stuffed animal. 

“Like Jurassic Park,” she said, her eyes wide, holding it in her hands. 

“Like Jurassic Park.” 

“I love it.” Sofia said, holding it to her chest. 

And she did love it. It was her best birthday ever. 

She remembers how she felt that night, when her father tucked her into bed, making sure that he tucked in the stuffed animal too, and read to her as she fell asleep. 

*

Sofia looks over at her father again as she parks the car in front of her house. Her father is asleep against the window, she reaches out to him, her palm resting gently against his cheek. 

She stays there for a moment. Looking out over to the forest, she hasn’t gone in there in years, the tree that had fallen over was unrecognizable now, new life having formed around it. She sighs, getting out of the car, slowly opening her father’s door, he wakes up briefly, still muttering something under his breath. He doesn’t fight her this time to go inside like he usually did. It was like dealing with a very stubborn child most of the time, and she’s grateful that this isn’t the case tonight. 

She leads him to his room, going through all his very specific rituals knowing that he would have done the same for her when she was a child. She tucks him into bed, making sure that he’s warm and snug. 

She slowly starts to walk away and she hears him say, “birthday.” 

Sofia feels that lump in her throat again. 

“Goodnight, dad.” she whispers, closing the door quietly behind her. 

*

She gets into bed, staring up at the ceiling, holding that same stegosaurus stuffed animal close to her chest. 

Birthdays may never be the same, but she always had memories. 

She holds them close to her chest, to keep them warm. 

To keep them safe until they’re ready to be told again.