Joey sat in front of his birthday cake, staring at the glowing candle. He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. And then, without a word, tears rolled down his cheeks.
“My birthday was yesterday,” he whispered.
My heart sank. The adoption papers said today was his birthday. Had there been a mistake? What else had been hidden from me?
“Do you want a boy or a girl?” the agency worker had asked.
“I just want to be a mom,” I replied.
That was the only thing I knew for sure. I never dreamed of picture-perfect family moments or baking cookies in a spotless kitchen. But I knew I could be the kind of mother who changed someone’s life.
That someone turned out to be Joey.
He didn’t know that day would change his life forever. In the weeks leading up to it, during every visit, he inched closer to me, his small hands gripping the edge of my sweater. His dark eyes searched mine, asking a silent question: “When?”
That day, I walked into the foster home holding a big, soft dinosaur plushie with funny little arms. The moment Joey saw it, his fingers twitched, but he didn’t move. I knelt beside him, my heart pounding.
“Well, Joey, are you ready to go home?”
His eyes darted to the dinosaur, then back to me.
“We’re never coming back here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Never. I promise.”
A pause. Then, slowly, he reached for my hand.
“Alright,” he said, gripping it tightly. “But so that you know, I don’t eat green beans.”
I bit back a smile. “Noted.”
And just like that, I became a mother.
A week later, it was time for Joey’s first birthday in his new home. I wanted to make it unforgettable.
Balloons. Streamers. A mountain of presents—not too many, just enough to make him feel special.
The day started perfectly.
We made pancakes together, though “made” might be a strong word. It looked more like a flour explosion. There was batter on the counter, the floor, and even a dusting of flour on Joey’s nose.
“Are we making pancakes or redecorating the kitchen?” I teased.
“Both!” he laughed, stirring the batter with wild enthusiasm.
Seeing him happy, safe, and free made every bit of mess worth it.
After breakfast, we moved to presents. I had picked them carefully—action figures, books about dinosaurs, and a giant toy T-rex.
Joey unwrapped them slowly. But instead of excitement, his face fell. Something was wrong.
“Do you like them?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
“Yeah… they’re cool.” But his voice lacked energy.
And then came the cake.
I lit the candle, smiling. “Alright, birthday boy, time to make a wish!”
Joey didn’t move. He just stared at the candle, his small fists clenching.
“Sweetheart?” I nudged the plate toward him. “This is your day. Come on, make a wish.”
His lower lip trembled. And then, he whispered the words that shattered my heart.
“This isn’t my birthday.”
I blinked. “What?”
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“But… the documents say today is your birthday.” My voice was barely audible.
“They made a mistake. My brother and I always celebrated together. But I was born before midnight, so we had two birthdays. That’s what Grandma Vivi said.”
My breath caught. It was the first time he had ever spoken about his past.
“Your brother?”
Joey nodded, tracing a small circle on the table with his finger.
“Yeah. His name is Tommy.”
I swallowed hard. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry, honey.”
Joey sighed and put down his spoon.
“I remember our birthdays. Grandma Vivi gave us two parties. The last time, I was four, and then Tommy was four. And then… they took me away.”
Just one year ago. His memories still fresh. His wounds still open.
“I wish I could be with him right now,” Joey whispered.
I reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “Joey…”
He didn’t look at me. Instead, he rubbed his eyes and stood up. “I’m kinda tired.”
“Okay,” I said softly. “Let’s get some rest.”
That night, before bed, he pulled out a small wooden box from under his pillow.
“My treasure box.”
He opened it and took out a folded piece of paper. “This is the place. Grandma Vivi always took us here.”
I unfolded it. A simple drawing of a lighthouse.
My breath caught. I knew what I had to do.
Finding that lighthouse wasn’t easy. I searched online for hours, scrolling through images, looking for one with a single tree beside it—just like Joey’s drawing.
Then, finally…
“That’s it!” I turned the laptop around. “Joey, does this look familiar?”
His small fingers brushed the screen. His eyes widened.
“That’s the place.”
“Alright, buddy. Let’s go on an adventure.”
We drove to the small coastal town where the lighthouse stood. Joey gripped his drawing tightly the entire way.
“What if she doesn’t remember me?” he asked softly.
“How could she forget?” I squeezed his hand.
The town was busy, but Joey wasted no time. He leaned out the car window, waving frantically at a woman walking by.
“Hi! Do you know where my grandma Vivi lives?”
The woman stopped, blinking. Then she pointed down the road.
“Oh, you mean old Vivi! She lives in the yellow house near the cliffs.”
Joey spun to me, eyes wide. “That’s it! That’s where she lives!”
I nodded, my throat tight. “Let’s go.”
I knocked on the door, my heart pounding. A moment later, an older woman appeared. Her sharp eyes softened the moment she saw Joey.
“Grandma Vivi!” Joey held up his drawing. “I brought Tommy a present!”
Vivi’s grip on her teacup tightened. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “You should leave.”
Joey’s face fell.
“Please,” I said softly. “He just wants to see his brother.”
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, she shut the door.
My heart ached as Joey placed his drawing on the doorstep. We turned to leave, disappointment weighing us down. But then…
“Joey! Joey!”
A blur of movement. A boy, identical to Joey, running toward us.
“Tommy?” Joey whispered.
Before I could stop him, Joey flung open the car door and ran.
They crashed into each other, hugging so tightly they nearly fell over. Tears filled my eyes.
Behind them, Vivi stood, her hand pressed to her chest. And then, finally, she gave a small nod.
An invitation.
We weren’t leaving just yet.
