Whoopsie Daisy Read online

  “It’s time for some amazing birthday breakfast!” I exclaim, feeling a sudden burst of energy and head downstairs to the kitchen.

  I can hear the radio as I make my way through the house. Momma is belting out the lyrics to one of her favourite songs, Escape (The Pina Colada Song) by Robert Holmes, as I approach the kitchen. She adds some flare by randomly shouting “sing it” and “that’s right” between lines. It’s not a stretch to see where some of my quirkiness comes from.

  I slow my pace in the hallway, taking my time to savour the sound of Momma enjoying life.

  “I’m glad this song came on. It makes me smile!” she shouts at the radio as she continues to hum along.

  Beep! Beep! Beep!

  “Well, it looks like breakfast is ready,” Momma says, turning off the kitchen timer as I near the kitchen. “I wonder when that daughter of mine will get up. She sleeps half her life away.”

  “Ready or not, here I come!” I shout as I walk into the kitchen, startling Momma.

  Momma stands by the kitchen island, blocking my view of breakfast. She’s wearing her favourite simple country-looking dress, with a colourful novelty apron that says “Bearly able to cook” and shows a bear holding a frying pan. It was a gift I bought for her last Christmas. She joked that I should have bought it for Papa since he’s the one who has a talent for burning food; Momma, on the other hand, is a phenomenal cook.

  “Good morning, my special, little birthday girl!” Momma shrieks when she turns to face me.

  “Good morn-” I start to say, but in typical Whoopsie fashion, my socked feet slip on the freshly washed tile floors and I fall to the ground with a thud. “Oooofff.”

  Momma shakes her head as she removes her oven mitts and places them on the island.

  “Holy fudge pops!” I exclaim as I stand up. I dust myself off and curtsey to Momma.

  “Oh, Kitten, be careful,” Momma chides. “You act like you have nine lives or something.”

  “Why stop, when I’m so good at it?” I ask sarcastically. “Besides, if falling kills you then I would be way beyond my nine lives by now.”

  Momma smiles and shakes her head. “Oh Sie, come here and give your Momma a big old birthday hug.”

  I roll my eyes teasingly and Momma raises her arms in front of her and quirks her eyebrow.

  “Ok, Momma. But then do I get my special birthday breakfast?” I squint my eyes and wave my hand towards the island.

  “Only one way to find out,” Momma replies with a smirk, still holding her arms in the air.

  I pause, giving her a skeptical look before making my way over for a hug. Momma is a beautiful woman who has always taken care of herself both physically and mentally. Her curly, light blonde hair brushes just below her shoulders, perfectly complimenting her slightly tanned complexion. She’s a runner and also lifts weights, facts I’m reminded of as we hug. I’m sure she could crush me right now if she wanted to. I try to sneak a peek over her shoulder at the food she has prepared but she notices and holds me in some sort of mom-strength death grip so I can’t get a better look.

  Momma steps back and smiles, maintaining eye contact while holding me at arm’s length and continuing to block my view of breakfast. I match her gaze and we stand there having an impromptu staring contest until Momma finally giggles.

  “Okay, young lady, you can have your breakfast now,” she says. “But don’t eat it all. Papa just got called to work, so we’ll have to save him some for later.”

  Momma steps aside and my mouth drops and I see the amazing birthday breakfast she has prepared. It’s a combination of everything I love—waffles, pancakes, homemade whipped cream, and a variety of fruits and berries with lots of raspberries, my favourite.

  “Yay! All my favourite things to eat. You really do love me, Momma!” I smile warmly as I walk to the island.

  We sit down and dig into the glorious meal before us. I will not lie; I went at this meal like a pig at a trough.

  About fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrates on the counter. I wipe my fingers on a napkin and slide the phone closer to me, leaning slightly to read the message on the screen.

  “It’s a text from Bel,” I tell Momma. “She’s ready to go shopping and will meet me at the mall in thirty minutes.”

  “Ah, thirty minutes!” I exclaim. “How am I supposed to get ready and get to the mall that fast? I’m sure I have berries all over my face.” I laugh, partially regretting my decision to eat my food like a dog presented with its first meal in days.

  Momma calmly replies without flinching or taking her eyes off her breakfast, “And all over your clothes, dear. You better hurry and get ready. You can take some cupcakes for you and Bel. Try to get them in your mouth though.”

  She chuckles quietly and I roll my eyes.

  She knows me well. A little too well.

  “Sweet. You rock, Momma.” I say excitedly as I notice breakfast cupcakes on the counter by the oven. We call them breakfast cupcakes because they are muffins, which Momma says are basically the same as a cupcake, with berries and a slightly sweet cream cheese icing on top. She makes the best breakfast cupcakes. I stuff two boxes with breakfast cupcakes and run up to my room to get ready.

  I get to my room and have the fastest shower I’ve ever had in my life. I quickly throw on a casual outfit, towel dry my hair, and apply some mascara and a quick dab of lip gloss before rushing to the mall to meet Bel.

  I find Bel in front of our favourite clothing store. Well, technically it’s her favourite store; I’m not much of a shopper nor a fashionista.

  “Happy birthday, bitch!” She exclaims loud enough for other shoppers to hear.

  I snicker as people turn and give Bel a dirty look. Classic Bel. She also took my parents’ advice to heart and doesn’t care what others think of her. One of her pet peeves is the amount of power we give to words; she believes that normalising certain words takes the power away from them. The value of a word is not in the word itself, but the intention behind it. It’s sometimes hard for me to imagine her as a resort manager and resisting the urge to drop curse words or other inappropriate language while at work, but she excels at her job and keeps things professional while on the clock.

  “Why thank you, my potty-mouthed little friend,” I reply with a smile.

  “Holy testicle Tuesday,” I mumble with my mouth full of cupcake, choosing a quote from one of my favourite movies to express my pleasure. “These are amazing. It has been a while since Momma made these and I almost forgot how delicious they are.”

  “Sie, your mom freakin’ rocks!” Rebel confesses without taking her eyes off her cupcake. “These are the best damn breakfast cupcakes I’ve ever had. Way better than sex.”

  I nearly choke at her comment.

  “Uh, yeah. Totally.” I reply awkwardly before inspecting myself for crumbs. “Wow, I didn’t even get any food on my clothes. It’s a miracle. Momma would be so proud.” I pretend to wipe away a tear from my cheek.

  “Sie, I need you to quit talking to me while I have this glorious piece of heaven in my hands; we’re having a moment here,” Bel says with a serious tone as she winks at her cupcake.

  I roll my eyes. “Fine then. I’ll leave you two alone and go look for an outfit for tonight. See you in the store.”

  I walk off while Bel attempts a half-assed nod, immersed in her cupcake experience. I enter the store and am immediately impressed with the clothes.

  “Look at these beautiful clothes!” I whisper yell. “I see so many that I want. Like that one. And that one. Oh, and those too.” The sales lady chuckles as she walks towards me and offers to help set up a dressing room. I find a few dresses that I like and I think will appease Bel.

  “Let’s see what you’ve found, Sie,” I hear from outside my dressing room as I pull up the zipper on the first dress.

  I try on the outfits and model them for Bel. We both like them all, but much to my surprise we agreed on one for tonight—a short off-white summer romper with a nice fitted
waist. I like to wear neutral colours as they really make the dark red undertones in my hair pop. The shape of the romper perfectly highlights my curves. It reminds me of something you would see a Star Wars princess wearing. Simple yet innocently seductive. It will pair nicely with some white strappy wedges—as we know, I’m not crazy enough to wear pumps to the beach.

  “Damn girl, you will definitely get some action tonight!” Bel announces to the entire store, causing my cheeks to redden.

  My natural response to hide my embarrassment is to roll with it—in this case by doing the robot dance, which I’m quite good at if I do say so myself.

  “Never mind.” Bel says as she rolls her eyes. “With moves like that, no one will come anywhere near you tonight,” she teases with a cocky grin on her face.

  “What are you going to wear tonight, Bel?” I reply sarcastically, preparing to return fire. “Your work outfit? Since that is all you ever seem to wear these days.”

  A devilish grin forms on her face. “I have something in mind, don’t you worry about me. I’ll be bringing the boys to attention, raising a few tent poles, igniting some pocket rockets... if you know what I mean.” She winks at me, knowing she won this battle.

  “Ahh! Yes, I get it! No need to share your plans with the entire mall.”

  She chuckles while shaking her head “Oh Sie, you’re too damn innocent for your own good.” I shrug. “It’s time to get our nails done. Then we can get back to our place and finish getting ready; I already know what I want to do with your hair. Sound good?”

  I nod curtly. “Sounds good.”

  A few minutes after we get home, there’s a knock on my door and Bel saunters into my room.

  “Ready to get your hair and make-up done by your favourite beauty expert?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Oh my God. Bel, you look amazing!” I exclaim, unable to close my mouth.

  She’s wearing a gorgeous, short, tight cheetah print dress with a thick black belt. Paired with her dark messy mohawk with golden-blonde highlights and mocha coloured skin, it looks like they made this outfit just for her. I don’t know how it’s possible, but her hair and make-up are flawless too—we have only been home for a few minutes. I’m convinced she’s a witch.

  “Uh, yeah obvi,” she says confidently. “Now let’s get to work on that head of yours.”

  I’m sure Bel was a beautician in her last life. The way she does my hair and make-up is like something you see in the top beauty salons. She puts my hair into a beautiful loose fishtail braid across my right shoulder before fixing my “train wreck of a make-up job”, as she so fondly labels it.

  “Okay, you’re all done.” She smiles, pleased with the final product, and hands me my shoes. “Let’s get out there and get this party started!”

  I slip my feet into the sandals and tighten the straps then turn to admire myself in the mirror. Happy with what I see, I turn to Bel with a big smile on my face. I rush over and wrap her in a hug, careful to not mess up my hair and make-up.

  “To the beach.” I release Bel and point to the front door.

  Seconds later, we’re out the front door and on our way to a birthday party I’ll never forget.

  THREE

  My twenty-fifth birthday party. The big night. The night I’ve been waiting for.

  I thought tonight would be my best birthday yet. Instead, this is the night when everything starts going downhill. It isn’t obvious at first, but you know what they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

  Nothing exciting happens early in the night. It was your typical beach birthday party filled with drinks, fire, sand on and in everything, and drunken shenanigans and drama. I had a few friends show up, mostly old friends from high school, plus a few acquaintances and some random people who just wanted to join our beach party.

  I can’t recall how many times I stumbled and fell that night, but the scrapes and bruises I found the next day would indicate it was a regularly occurring event.

  “Oooofff.” I grunt as I land directly on my left cheek. “Holy fudge pops!”

  “At least I’m consistent,” I mumble as I stand up and brush myself off. I notice a few partygoers enjoying my graceful display of motor skills, so I point at them while winking playfully.

  Everyone seems to find drunk, clumsy, and uncharacteristically bold Whoopsie to be quite entertaining. Except for Bel, whose attention has been elsewhere for the last half hour. She’s standing near the water with two very tall, very built, very attractive men, who have caught the eye of everyone at the party. Bel catches this latest stumble and shakes her head at me and chuckles.

  “There’s my best friend, and the world’s biggest klutz, doing what she does best.” She turns to face her new friends and excuse herself. “Excuse me, boys, but it looks like the birthday girl could use another drink.”

  One man seems very interested in Bel. He leans forward and whispers something in Bel’s ear. Bel is not one to be out-flirted. So naturally, she replies by crawling her hand up to his chest while purring something seductive, I assume. She bites her lip seductively and then turns and walks towards me with a huge smile on her face and a wiggle in her step.

  “Here’s a present for you.” She passes me a drink and points to my dropped cup on the ground. “I figured you needed a fresh one.”

  “Whoop! Whoop! I love you, my little blueberry!” I shout in an embarrassing drunk party-girl voice. “Imma get my drank ooonnn!”

  Bel and I hang out by the fire, singing and dancing to one of our favourite party songs. Even though I’ve been singing the song for years, I still manage to forget the words, so I take it upon myself to improvise the lyrics.

  Suddenly, hot mystery man number one walks over and starts grinding with Bel. Not going to lie, it was sexy as hell. If I were a man, my pants would be tight watching these two and I doubt it’s just the alcohol talking, although it probably has some influence on my thoughts.

  “Alllllrighty then. So, I’m just going to go over there.” I point towards the water. “You know, where you two aren’t having sex on the beach.”

  “Good to know you can take care of yourself, Sie,” Bel replies sarcastically and winks. “Do you see this magnificent creature behind me? I have big plans for him tonight and I can feel his big plans for me. Seriously. He has some huge plans for me. In his pants. Right now. So, sorry, but you’re on your own for the rest of the night.” A huge smile forms on her face and I chuckle.

  You have to give Bel credit—she is a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. To hell with everyone else and their opinions. That is yet another reason I love her so much. She is a genuine, honest, outspoken, confident woman who is fierce and shameless. She also knows that I’m safe otherwise she wouldn’t be as willing to ditch me for a random guy at the beach.

  “Have fun children and be safe!” I say partially joking. “Take care now, bye-bye then.”

  As you may have noticed, I love Ace Ventura movies. He is partially why I became a vet. I’m also a movie fanatic and love to fire out random movie quotes, especially when I’ve consumed alcohol, much to Bel’s dismay. Chalk it up as another one of my quirks.

  I make my way over to the water, staring up at the beautiful night sky as I zig-zag across the sand. The moon is absolutely mesmerising tonight. There’s a small cloud that seems to hover around the moon, causing a colourful halo to encircle the moon.

  “How pretty, I bet we will get some rain soon,” I think aloud.

  I stop for a second, wavering from intoxication, to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths of fresh air. So fresh. So clean. I giggle to myself as I open my eyes and almost fall over.

  “Nice try, universe,” I say playfully. “You didn’t get me this time. I’m still on my feet.”

  I wave at the moon and continue on my way towards the water; towards hot mystery man number two.

  “Hello, new friend!” I shout as I approach. “It’s my birthday!”

  Then I fall. Again. I don’t thi
nk anyone is surprised anymore at this point.

  “Holy fudge pops, not again.” I stand and brush sand off my chest.

  “Are you ok?” He asks, a smile playing on his lips.

  I instantly melt. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but his voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I would like to say I manage to keep my cool, but that would be a lie.

  “Oh, I’m fine. Very fine,” I say in a very drunk and excessively flirtatious way, followed by an awkward wink that I’m sure just looks like I’m having a stroke. I’m putting on a brilliant demonstration of why we should limit how much alcohol we consume.

  “It’s just sand. It doesn’t hurt much,” I say with a shrug. “I would know.”

  We both laugh and I swoon at the sound of his burly laugh. I’m not sure what is happening. Is it the alcohol? The moon? Something has my hormones raging out-of-control tonight. Trust me, things don’t get any classier as the night progresses.

  I stare at the man for a few moments, or at least it felt like a few moments at the time. The moon dances off his features, highlighting his muscular physique. He brushes his hand through his dark hair causing a few strands to fall across his face, just below his cheeks. I smirk as I continue observing my new friend, my eyes taking every muscle-laden inch of the statuesque god before me. My eyes eventually meeting with his, which appear light in colour—perhaps blue or green.

  Suddenly he coughs and then winks at me, bringing me out of my shameless staring contest with his body.

  Back in the moment and unable to contain my excitement, I rapid fire a bunch of questions without giving the poor guy a chance to reply.

  “You’re hot. Did you know that? Where’s your drink? Is it empty? Are you drunk? What’s your name? You’re very tall. Did you know that? Where’s your drink?”