The Perfect Present
The most wonderful gift she could ever give her father on his special day was right in front of her all along…
I was breathing heavily as I walked the familiar crooked path behind our family home toward the paddock, feeling the stress of time running out on an important decision.
A mix of warmth and comfort engulfed me when I saw my father’s solid figure leaning on the fence separating path from paddock.
It had become one of his favourite spots, in the apple tree’s dappled shade, watching the horses.
Though partly retired, he insisted on keeping busy. His latest project was the creation of a kitchen garden so he and Mum could be more self-sufficient and do their bit for reducing carbon footprints.
He glanced round as he heard my approach, his weathered face crinkling with schoolboy delight at sight of me.
“Evie, my heart. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
I’d gone into his outstretched arm for a welcoming kiss and stayed tucked into his side as I said, “Mum’s cooking roast chicken.”
“Ah, right. Who’d want to miss your mum’s Sunday lunch, eh?”
With his free hand, he gestured toward a beautifully skittish foal dancing round its mother.
“Look at that little lad. He’ll be a fine colt, once he learns control of those knees.”
I smiled, looking not at the foal, but at him.
“You love the horses, don’t you?”
He nodded, his eyes taking on a faraway look.
“When I was in the army and posted to Ireland, I used to ride horses like that bareback across the wide open beaches. Early morning, with the wind in your face and those gorgeous animals racing along, kicking the sand up as they went. It felt like flying.”
I laughed as, right on cue, the foal began to move across the field, kicking out its gangly legs as it tested its balance.
Then I remembered the main reason I’d come here today.
“About your birthday, Dad…”
“Now, I’ve already told you, love.” He squeezed my shoulder apologetically as he interrupted. “I don’t want any fuss.”
“Did you see my new veggie patch?” Mum gave me a floury kiss then returned to the pastry for her famous apple pie. “Your dad’s worked wonders.”
“I’m still searching for a decent present for his seventieth,” I confessed. “Have you got anything yet?”
“In a way. Did you ever see Grandad’s pocket watch, that he took with him all through the war? It stopped working a few years ago, so I’ve had it repaired and polished. It looks a treat!”
“How thoughtful,” I sighed. “Dad will love that. I suppose Daniel’s got something special as well?”
My brother, naturally laid-back and creative, always managed to come up with great gift ideas for those special occasions.
Mum nodded as she carefully unrolled a pastry lid over a deliciously deep apple filling.
“VIP tickets for a golf tournament at Wentworth.”
Nose wrinkling, I went to switch on the kettle.
“I knew it! What on earth can I get him, Mum?”
She patted my back as she passed on her way to the oven.
“Just think of all you know about him, the little things too, but don’t try too hard, dear.”
Taking her advice, I spent a wonderful evening going through all the family photo albums – and a bottle of wine – with Daniel.
But although that brought back great memories, some laugh-out-loud, I was no closer to finding that precious gift.
Then, just as I was falling asleep later that night, it came to me. The idea had been in front of me all along…
Enough members of the family were at Mum and Dad’s on his birthday to make it feel undeniably like a party, which Mum explained – with rolled eyes and a tight tone – was Auntie Maeve’s doing.
Maeve herself was unrepentant.
“Well, we couldn’t let his seventieth pass without a decent cake and a toast or two to his health.”
After soothing Mum’s ruffled feathers and making sure that Maeve’s good intentions wouldn’t cause a mini World War Three, I went off down the path to where I knew Dad would be propping up the paddock fence.
“I’m escaping for a while,” he said sheepishly as, once again, he drew me into his side.
“Auntie means well,” I murmured. “Don’t be too cross with her.”
“I won’t, my heart,” Dad promised.
Together we watched the horses, tails swishing, crop at the grass.
“Can I give you my present now?” I asked, and at a nod, handed over an envelope.
Dad slid out the printed card inside and read it through, eyes popping.
“It’s not quite Ireland and bareback beach rides,” I said. “But hopefully, you’ll enjoy pony trekking through the New Forest, and it’ll bring back a few more happy memories.”
“It’s perfect, Evie. I love it!”
His face, transformed by one of his engaging smiles, was a complete reward in itself.
I grinned back as he hugged me a little tighter.
“Happy birthday, Dad!”
Find uplifting new short stories in every issue of My Weekly magazine, and in the 4-weekly My Weekly Special too. Why not subscribe – or take out a digital subscription – to save loads on the shop price?
