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Twenty-five
AFTER
Dear Luc,
Today is your birthday. You would have turned nineteen today. We would have thrown a party for you. The love of your life would have been invited, Jacob and James would have come, Precious would have worn something sexy and I would have snuck Esther in.
Dad would have bought vanilla cake with resins and cherries. The icing would be thick and so sweet it would be almost bitter, just the way you liked it. Mum would have cooked fried rice and fried chicken for the party. We would have been allowed to take lite beer and diluted sips of vodka and whiskey. Cartons of fruit juice and soft drinks would have been in abundance. And our parents would have excused us and retired to their rooms.
We would have played music from the stereo. Not too loud to wake Krystal from sleep but loud enough to get ourselves hyped.
I might had danced. Let myself go and get tipsy. I
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