I Have The Best Indian Daughter

Wendy and I arrived to find that one of the picnic tables had been moved next to the fountain and covered in a tablecloth. The table had a number of packages on it, and a strange shape hidden under a towel. Wendy gasped as everyone shouted "Happy Birthday" upon her arrival.Tina and Angela came forward to take Wendy's hands and lead her to the table. Once she was seated each placed a kiss on her cheeks as Tristan pulled the covering from the cake it covered. The cake was in the shape of a bunny's head and Wendy laughed at it as Eddie pulled out a camera to snap a few quick pictures. Moments later eighteen candles merrily burned for a moment as we serenaded Wendy with the traditional song and cheered as she extinguished the fire with one long breath.The cake was quickly cut up, with our group of seven having the first pieces, but later ones were offered to any student who passed the table. Wendy was as happy as I have ever seen her. It was strange, but I realized that for once I did. In the bedroom, the sheets are brushed tight across the bed, the pillows fluffed.In the bathroom, the towels are folded and left in the hamper. The pile of clothes no longer spoil the pristine floor.In the kitchen, the counters are bare and the sink is empty and clean.In the living room, a toppled potted plant is set upright and the scattered soil is in a bin.The smattering of broken glass is swept aside into a neat pile by the wall. Beside the window, a little anonymous note of apology and thanks is left behind along with a clutch of hand-picked flowers. Sure, they were from the garden in the backyard, but it’s the thought that counts.The two young lovers stand preparing to leave through the back door rather than the window -- it seems like the “adult” thing to do.They look out onto the world with fresh eyes and clean bodies and spirits. The night doesn’t seem as dark or mysterious at the moment.He turns to her and touches her face and the soft curls of her deep brown hair. Her lips.
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