The Most Splendfabuwonderbest Gift. Ever.

"Are you ready, birthday girl?"

Sophie skipped in place, her short, corkscrew ponytail bobbing behind her. "You keep asking me that, Seff!" Excitement resurrected the last trace of her lisp, and she swung her parents' hands wildly with each word. "I told you an' told you an' told you, I'm ready!"

"You did?" Seth's brows puckered into a puzzled frown. "I guess I forgot." He sighed sadly. "That's what happens when you get old, Soph. Like you—how old are you today anyway? Eleventeen?

Over their daughter's head, Kirsten and Sandy exchanged silent laughter. Their hands tightened on Sophie's as she bounced even harder.

"Nooo! Eleventeen's not a real number, Seff! I'm five , 'member? An' I'm ready !"

"Oh that's right. You're five , not eleventeen." Seth slapped his own forehead. "And you're ready, huh? But . . . does that mean right-this-minute, can't-wait-another-second ready? Because I kind of thought we could all have another piece of that super-delicious chocolate cake first--"

From behind the door, Ryan's voice growled a warning "Seth!" Simultaneously, Sophie protested, "No! I don't want any old cake! I want my Ryan surprise. Right. Now!"

"Now? Well, if you insist, now it is," Seth turned the knob a half inch and then paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Except . . . you know, maybe I should check first to see if Ryan is really ready--"

"I'm. Really. Ready, Seth."

Clutching his heart dramatically, Seth spun in place. His head swiveled with mock-nervousness. "Okay," he whispered, "who was that? Are there ghosts in this house?"

"That wasn't a ghost! That was Ryan! He's ready too!" Eyes wide with entreaty, Sophie peered up at her father. "Daddy," she pleaded, "make Seth let Ryan in now!"

"Open the door, son," Sandy prompted obediently. He could barely restrain his impatient daughter from pulling free to do it herself. Swallowing a chuckle, he watched her gaze narrow into a perfect replica of Ryan's classic glare as she scowled at Seth.

He grinned beatifically in response. "The door? Right. I'm supposed to open the door. Oh wait, you mean this one?" He took one step away. "Or the back door?"

"Seff!"

"Seth!"

"Enough teasing, young man!"

At his mother's reproach, Seth scurried back into place. His eyes widened innocently. "Moi? Teasing? As Taylor would say, au contraire, maman! I just want to make sure that everything is done right so the surprise is perfectly perfect, that's all."

"Everything is fine, son."

Sophie nodded vigorously. "It's fine ," she echoed.

"Well, not quite," Seth argued. "You have to shut your eyes, Soph. All the way. Really, really, squinch-y tight. Okay, are they closed? "

"Uh-huh!" Sophie claimed, dancing in place and peeking at the door from under her lashes.

"Mom!" Seth pointed an accusing finger at his sister. "She's cheating!"

Biting her lip to stifle her amusement, Kirsten reached down and covered Sophie's eyes. At the same time, Ryan's voice, muffled and a little strained, ordered gruffly, "Seth. Open this door. Right. Now."

Seth sighed and gave a defeated shrug. Then he flung the door open. Immediately, Ryan staggered in, half-hidden behind the huge box that he carried. It was covered with rainbow-striped paper, and an enormous bow, the same sky blue as Sophie's eyes, perched on top.

Walking backwards, as if he were guiding a plane to the gate, Seth waved his arms and babbled completely random directions. "A little to the right. No, no, two inches to your left. Half an inch back now. Careful of the coffee table, dude. You almost took out Mom's vase. All right, just a half a step forward and then three giant steps to your right."

Ryan ignored him. Panting, he felt his way to the center of the room, his arms straining around the ungainly package.

Behind Seth, Sophie squirmed in her parents' grasp. "Is the surprise here yet? I wanna see! Is it here? Ryan, please! Can I open my eyes now, puh-leeeze?"

Ryan lowered the box carefully. He heaved a relieved sigh when it reached the ground. "It's here, Chicklet," he replied. Wiping a trace of sweat off his brow, he stepped out of the way so that his gift stood alone, in a natural spotlight formed by sunshine streaming through the window. "You can look now"

Kirsten and Sandy released their daughter, who immediately sprang forward and then froze in place, amazed.

"Oh," she gasped, her lisp slipping back again. "Wyan! That's the biggest, most humongous-est box in the whole world! And it's so, so, so pwetty!" She stroked the glossy paper, glancing at Ryan incredulously. "Is it weally all for me?"

"It really is. I just hope you like it, Chicklet."

Stretching her arms around its sides as far as she could reach, Sophie hugged the box fiercely. "I do! I love it, love it, looove it!" she exclaimed.

"Um. Soph?" His dimples dancing impishly, Seth tapped his sister on the shoulder. "That's just the wrapping," he whispered. "You don't even know what the present is yet."

Sophie jerked upright. "That's wight!" she exclaimed, blinking with realization. "Wyan, what's in there? Can I see? Will you open it for me?"

"Of course you can see, Chicklet. It is your birthday present." Plucking the bow off the box's lid, Ryan plopped it on top of Sophie's ponytail. "So here you go. How do you like it?"

"You're silly, Ryan!" Sophie giggled with delight. The ribbon bobbed merrily as she shook her head. "That's not the present! The present's inside the box. Open it, open it, open it, open it!"

Ryan took a deep breath. He pulled out his pocketknife, fingering the handle and looking back at Kirsten anxiously.

Her lips curved in a smile of encouragement, slow and tender. "Sophie will love it," she mouthed.

Reassured, Ryan bent down. He sliced all around the bottom edge and, as if raising the curtain at a theatre, cautiously lifted the box to reveal its contents.

There was a second of hushed suspense as everyone watched Sophie. She stood immobile and silent, her entire expression blank.

Ryan's face clouded with disappointment. He started to sidle towards the door, but Kirsten slipped an arm around his waist, holding him close to her side.

"Just wait," she whispered.

Almost in slow motion, Sophie clasped her hands to her mouth. "Ooooh," she breathed. Her voice sounded low and reverent, and her eyes began to brighten like a morning sky. "Wyan. It's bee-yoo-ti-ful! It's the most, most bee-yoo-ti-ful birthday present anybody ever got, ever!"

Leaning her head on his shoulder, Kirsten hugged Ryan happily. "See, sweetie?" she murmured. "I told you. It's perfect."

Ryan smiled at her with vague gratitude, but his eyes were fixed on Sophie, who was staring, still dazzled, at the dollhouse. It was pale-blue, the color of a calm ocean, with white trim like foam cresting on waves. Almost four feet tall, it included every feature that Ryan thought might appear in a little girl's fantasy: a round turret; a winding staircase in the central hall; arched, floor-to-ceiling windows; and a porch with delicate railings that wrapped around three sides of the building like an embrace.

The design had a fairytale quality, but somehow it didn't suggest a castle at all. Ryan had made sure of that. With its graceful proportions, its welcoming curves, its warmth and personal touches, like Sophie's initials laced through the latticework, Ryan had tried to create something more meaningful.

He had tried to build a dollhouse that would feel like a home.

"Chicklet?" he prompted shyly when Sophie remained silent. "Do you really like it?"

Sophie nodded. Without looking, she slid her hand through Ryan's, drawing him with her as she slowly circled her present. She stopped every few steps, first to touch the delicate porch banister, then to trace the line of the roof, finally to open the front door and peer down the graceful entry hall.

"Look, Soph." Ryan crouched down. Reaching inside, he tapped a small button on the foyer wall. Instantly the dollhouse glowed, with tiny candles alight in every window and the dining room chandelier shining, diamond-bright.

Sophie squeezed his hand. "Oh! Oh, Ryan! It's like my house has stars inside!" She touched one hesitant finger to the button. "Can I do it?"

"Of course you can."

Biting her lip with concentration, Sophie switched the lights off and then on again. She took a deep, wondering breath. "Just like real," she murmured.

"And see? All of the outside walls can come off," Ryan told her. Instinctively, he kept his voice low, matching hers. "That way it will be easy for you to move the furniture around."

Sophie gazed up at him, awestruck. "The furniture moves?"

"Sure. See?" Very gently, Ryan removed a tiny bench from the entryway. He placed it in Sophie's open palm. "There. Now you can put it anywhere you want."

"You can even put the refrigerator in the bedroom," Seth observed brightly. "I already checked. There's room next to the closet and . . . What?" he demanded when his parents stared at him. "It's a very convenient arrangement. Makes for easy midnight snacking, right Soph?"

His little sister did not seem to hear.

For a long moment Sophie studied the finely carved bench in her hand. Then she replaced it carefully in its original spot, wheeled around and flung herself into Ryan's arms. Her sudden exuberance knocked him off balance and they both tumbled to the floor.

"This is the best, best, best-est present, Ryan! It's, it's--" Sophie sat on Ryan's chest, groping vainly for a grand enough word.

"Splendiferous?" Seth suggested.

"Splendiferous !" she cried. She punctuated her words with wet kisses up and down Ryan's cheeks. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ryan! I loooooove it!"

Her giddy enthusiasm invited the whole family to join in. Sandy, Kirsten and Seth all crowded close, beaming at Ryan. He had struggled, laughing, to a sitting position on the floor, with Sophie comfortably ensconced on his lap.

"What?" Seth teased, when his sister continued to chant, "I love it!" "You mean it's better than the Adventures of Supersonic Sophie comic book that I drew for you? Which, by the way, I even autographed free of charge?"

"Uh-huh," Sophie replied blithely. Still clinging to Ryan, she twisted around so that she could admire her dollhouse more easily. "I do love my comic book too, Seth," she added, as an afterthought. "Only—my dollhouse lights up! An' it's got flowers in the windows an' a little bitty rocking chair like Mommy's an', oh! Just--everything!"

Seth walked his fingers up the front steps. "Just everything, huh?" He heaved a huge, long-suffering sigh. "Well then, I guess it's okay if you love it the most. I guess it is pretty splendiferous."

Sophie cocked her head thoughtfully, mulling his remark. "Uh-uh," she announced at last. "No, I decided. My Ryan surprise is better'n 'splendiferous.' It needs a special, all-its-very-own word. Make me a word, Seth!"

Sandy choked slightly, his eyebrows wagging with amusement at Kirsten. "What?" he demanded, in an aside. "So now Seth is creating a personal, nonsense vocabulary for his sister?"

"Apparently," Kirsten confirmed. Unconcerned, she smiled at their children with calm tolerance.

"Well," Sandy grinned. "He'd better make it good then."

Seth strolled around the dollhouse, inspecting every angle. "Hmm. A special word, huh? How about—let me see now. How about splendfabuwonderbest?"

"Send-in-flab-you-beast? Wait! Say it again, Seth!"

"Splendfabuwonderbest," Seth repeated slowly. "Splend-fab-u-wonder-best. Say it with me, people!" Raising his arms like a conductor, he marked a downbeat for each syllable.

Ryan listened, stroking Sophie's hair contentedly, as she, Sandy, Kirsten and Seth all chanted, "Splend-fab-u-won-der-best" three times.

"That's it," Sophie declared with satisfaction. She pronounced the word again with slow precision. "My dollhouse is the most splendfabuwonderbest gift ever! Isn't it, daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin, I think it is." Sandy crouched down next to his daughter, groaning ruefully as his knees creaked. "In fact, this present is even more special than that." he confided.

"More special than splendfabuwonderbest special? Really?"

"That's right. You know why? Because Ryan designed and made the whole thing himself, just for you."

Startled, Sophie swiveled around to face Ryan. "You made it?" Her eyes widened and her voice rose to a squeak of astonishment. "Really and truly? All your very own self, Ryan?"

"Yes, sweetie, he did," Kirsten answered before he could reply. She squeezed Ryan's shoulders proudly, but he shook his head in denial.

"Not just by myself, Chicklet," he told Sophie seriously. "I had lots and lots of help. See those curtains?"

He guided her hand to the lacy material draped in the kitchen windows.

"Ryan," Kirsten demurred, but he continued resolutely.

"Mommy made all the curtains and the tablecloths and the rugs for the house. And Seth painted the walls and most of the furniture."

"Oh." Sophie fingered the delicate fabric, studied the swirls of sunrise yellow on the kitchen walls, and then nodded her approval. "Mommy and Seth were very good helpers, Ryan." She tilted her head, thinking, and then glanced curiously at her father. "How did you help, Daddy?"

"Yes, Daddy," Seth echoed. He grinned wickedly. "I forget. How was it that you helped exactly?"

Sandy coughed, pushing himself up to his feet as a stalling tactic. "Well, Sophie, I . . . Let's see now. I . . ." He paused to frown at a piece of invisible lint and brush off his knees.

"Daddy?" his daughter prompted, tugging at his pant leg. "You helped Ryan make my present too, didn't you?"

"Sure he did," Ryan blurted as Sandy fumbled for an answer. "He, um, he did the wiring for the lights." Kirsten's brows shot up in disbelief and he amended hastily, "Well, Daddy helped me do it anyway."

"Right." Sandy clapped a grateful hand on Ryan's shoulder, simultaneously signaling Seth to stop his broad "No way" gestures. "I helped Ryan with the wiring. I, um--"

"You handed me my tools, remember?" Ryan tipped Sophie's face up to his. "Daddy helped me a lot," he claimed earnestly. "He's a very good, um,--"

"Hander," Seth concluded, folding his lips over a persistent grin . "Of tools. It's an important job, Soph. Not everybody can do it."

Sophie tapped the light switch off and on, beaming as the lights flashed obediently. "You did a good job too, Daddy. Only . . ." Her smile faltered, and she turned back to Ryan. Leaning close to his ear, she confided in a mournful whisper, "All my dolls are too big to fit in my house. Even all my Barbies. I want somebody to live here, Ryan!"

"Oh, sweetie, it's all right," Kirsten assured her distraught daughter. "Ryan already thought of that."

Sophie looked up expectantly.

Grabbing a box from behind Sandy's armchair, Seth flourished it with smug pleasure. "Ryan may have thought of it," he confirmed, "but I, Seth Ezekiel Cohen, am the big brother who actually solved the problem of the doll-less house. So this part of the present is from me, Soph."

He set the rainbow-striped package, an exact miniature of the original dollhouse box, on his sister's lap. She studied it dubiously.

"Open it," Ryan urged. When she continued to hesitate, he lowered his voice to add wryly, "Don't worry, Sophie. It's not one of Seth's jokes."

"Okay!" Reassured, Sophie tore off the blue bow, ripped through the wrapping paper and pulled off the lid.

Inside four dollhouse-size figures were lying snugly next to one another. There was an obvious mother, trim and golden-haired, a dark-haired father with abundant eyebrows, a blonde little girl and a curly-haired, brunette little boy. All of the dolls were jointed so that they could sit down, their features were painted with fine, perfect strokes, and they were dressed in bright, removable outfits.

Sophie's face lit up. Sliding off Ryan's lap, she removed the dolls one by one, her small fingers handling them carefully. When she had taken all four of them out, she giggled, shook the box back and forth, and finally turned it upside down. Empty sheets of tissue paper fluttered to the floor. Sophie's smile vanished. Her lower lip jutted out and she glared at Seth.

"Where is it, Seth 'Zekiel?" she demanded. Her eyes blazed and she pointed an accusing finger. "You weren't supposed to be playing a joke! Ryan said!"

Seth's brow puckered with confusion. He turned to his parents, but they appeared equally bewildered. "There's no joke, Sophie. What's the matter? Don't you like the dolls? Because personally, I think they're pretty—well, maybe not splendfabuwonderbest, but at least splendiferous."

Without answering, Sophie wheeled around to pluck Ryan's shirtsleeve.

"Ryan!" she declared. "Seth is teasing again. Make him stop."

"Stop teasing, Seth," Ryan ordered absently as he set the last doll into place. He rocked back on his heels from where he had been kneeling so that he could arrange the tiny foursome in the living room. "See, Chicklet?" he observed, smiling with satisfaction. "Now you have a whole family to live in your dollhouse."

Sophie stared at the small family, neatly aligned next to each other on the couch: mother, daughter, father and son. Her face clouded. Shaking her head unhappily, she looked from the scene to her parents and Seth, back to the dollhouse and finally to Ryan.

"Uh-uh!" she declared. With quick decisiveness, she reached inside, and nudged the four figures closer to each other, trying vainly to make more room. "That's not right, Ryan!"

"What? What's not right, Chicklet?"

Sophie's chin quivered. She hid her face against Ryan's chest as she answered, so that her voice emerged, muffled and lisping again. "I love those dolls, but . . . Wyan, there has to be another bwudder."

"Another--?"

"Brother," Seth hissed. "I think . . . she means you, dude. That's what she meant about me teasing. She thought I was hiding the last doll—the Ryan."

A slow, gratified flush warmed Ryan's face. "Yeah? You think so?"

"Absolutely," Sandy replied. "I don't know why it didn't occur to us when Seth was making them." He bent close to his daughter, prompting earnestly, "You want the Dollhouse family to have a Ryan, don't you, Pumpkin?"

Sophie nodded into the creases of Ryan's shirt.

"Of course she does." Kirsten gazed at her daughter with contrite empathy. "And she's right. It should."

Tightening his arms around Sophie, Ryan drew her gently back onto his lap. "But Chicklet," he explained, as she raised her tear-streaked face. "Some families only have one son and one daughter. And four's a good number, two girl dolls and two boys. See how they all fit on the couch together? There's no room for one more."

"I don't care," Sophie insisted. "Some of them can sit on the floor, that's all. 'Cause it's not a real family without a Ryan. Is it, Mommy?"

"No, sweetie," Kirsten agreed tenderly. She fingered Sophie's blonde ponytail, then slid her hand over to stroke Ryan's head too. "A real family definitely needs a Ryan."

"Uh-huh! It does . So my dollhouse family can have one, right?"

"Yes it can. Seth will take care of that, won't you Seth?"

"Hey, why not?" Grinning at his parents, Seth clapped a hand onto Ryan's shoulder. "I did the first time, didn't I?"

There was a moment of confused silence. Then Sandy threw back his head and laughed. "Actually, son, I think I can claim credit for that. But . . ." He lifted his hands in apology as Seth began to protest. "You certainly did your part. But then, so did Ryan and your mom. Anyway the important thing is, the Cohen family has a Ryan and now so will the Dollhouse family."

"You promise, Seth 'Zekiel?" Sophie demanded, fixing her brother with a glare of mingled doubt and command. "'Cause I want my Dollhouse Ryan right away."

Seth nodded solemnly. "Right away," he agreed. Looking skyward, he added with an innocent shrug, "Like . . . oh, say, next week, or next month, or maybe--"

"Seth!" a chorus of voices chided. "Right away!"

"Okay, okay, fine! Right away. I promise."

Sophie waited until Seth crossed his heart. Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, she flung her arms around Ryan's neck. "Thank you for my birthday present, Ryan!" she cried. "It's, it's--" she paused, glancing back at Seth, who mouthed the word as she pronounced it carefully. "It's splendfabuwonderbest, and I love it a ginormous much!"

Ryan chuckled. "You're welcome, Chicklet. And I love you a ginormous much." His vision misted suddenly and he blinked, biting his lip. Then he pulled Sopie closer to whisper into her ear. "Thank you for my present too."

"Your present?" Sophie reeled away, staring at Ryan with surprise. "Ryan, silly, today's not your birthday! Your birthday isn't for, oh, months and months and months and months! An' I didn't give you any present today!"

Kissing her forehead, Ryan drew his sister back for another hug. "Oh, yes, you did, Sophie Rose Cohen," he declared. "And it was the most splendifabuwonderbest gift. Ever!"

FIN