Posted: 11 October 2002
1973. I had a party that year, just like every year before. It was a Saturday and my dad took us all up to the batting cages. I hit every ball I swung at that day, and when we left, my dad kinda hugged me, ruffled my hair and whispered, "Good job, Fox. You got 'em all." I was so proud, I didn't even care that he hugged me in front of my friends.
My dad and mom got me a new basketball that year. After the party, dad and I went out and shot baskets in the yard. He was good, but I was almost as tall now, and I surprised him a couple of times with my moves. He laughed each time, bent over with his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. "Damn, boy, you got me again." I flushed, kinda embarrassed, but mostly really pleased.
Sam came in my room that night. She just wanted to give me a hug and a card. There was this silly crayon picture of a boy and girl and a goofy yellow circle sun sorta made into an award ribbon. Inside it said: Best Brother Ever.
It was the last really happy day I remember in my life. Next year, my birthday was on a Sunday. My dad was drunk. My mom was zoned on the tranquilizers she was living on. Nobody remembered it was my birthday. I don't think I was happy again after I turned twelve.
It's Sunday again this year, just me and Jack Daniels. Guess I'm gonna make my old man proud after all. I look at Sam's card, and I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes. There's a knock on my door and I ignore it, but then I hear a key and Scully is there. She takes the glass from my hand and gently tugs Sam's card away. "Oh, Mulder." Her words are soft as she strokes my hair.
"Why are you here, Scully?" I'm harsh but I can't help it.
She takes my face in both her hands, looks deep into my eyes, and then, she's kissing me, taking my breath away. I taste scotch and Scully, and of the two, I much prefer Scully.
"Happy Birthday, Mulder," she whispers and then she's kissing me again, and I think, maybe I can be happy after all.
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