Sheila spun around, taking in all the changes we’d made to the backyard. For a moment, I remembered sitting out here and talking to Mick on the phone—secretly—so long ago.
“It’s our little oasis,” I said with a smile.
“I’m so glad you stayed. I do think Priscilla is happy about that,” Sheila said.
She was right. With a little time, I’d come to think of the house as mine. I’d deserved it as my safe haven, and when Mick and I moved in together, it was my contribution to our household. He refused to use or take any of my work money, insisting I buy shoes, stocks, or a little of both.
“To the beautiful birthday lady,” Mick said when he returned, juggling three drinks. Handing everyone their beverage, he said, “Cheers. To another forty or eighty.”
“That’s a lot of birthdays,” I said, holding up my glass.
“I’ll toast to that.” Sheila tapped her glass to mine and took a long sip.
“Sit.” Mick was pulling out chairs around the firepit. “Chef is bringing out appetizers.”
I’d wanted to cook or order in sushi. Mick, however, insisted on flying Chef—what he affectionately called his now business partner—in from New York to cook for the five of us. There was no arguing when Priscilla got involved, saying she loved his wagyu sliders and asked if he would make them.
I didn’t even know what had happened to that girl. After a few trips to New York with Mick and me, now she was a foodie.
“So, Dale had his fourth date last night,” Sheila told us. “Your Rochelle. I think this could be the one.”
Sheila continued to be obsessed with Dale and acting as his matchmaker. She claimed to have made a promise to his late wife a long time ago, but I knew better. He’d been such a good friend to Sheila that she felt forever indebted to him. If there was one thing about Sheila, she kept her promises.
We’d put her up to introducing him to Rochelle, who was still with us. I’d decided my job was too important to me to give it up, and Mick agreed, although he insisted that Rochelle stay on to help me. She did the shopping and cleaning, waited for contractors, and occasionally picked up Priscilla for me. Rochelle and I also shared coffee a lot of afternoons, and we hosted her and her son over for dinner many times. He loved Tito, way more than Rochelle did.
“Apparently, she’s crazy for Dale, and wants to go away with him in a few weeks. It could be a quickie marriage with them both having kids.”
Mick cleared his throat at the mention of them both having kids and a marriage in sight.
He’d asked once if I was ready, and I said no. I wasn’t opposed to us moving in together, but combining everything with something that scared me was too much.
Even though that didn’t make much sense, it felt like I’d be giving up a lot of newfound, hard-fought freedom. At least, initially. That was before I’d fallen even deeper in love with Mick’s soft side and the way he looked out for Priscilla.
Oh, and I was carrying his baby ... which he didn’t know.
“Oh my God, Sheila, stop with all that,” I told her, thinking she was only going to prompt a lengthy conversation between Mick and me later.
Mick chimed in. “Everyone has their own way of living, Mar.”
“Don’t get all philosophical on me,” I joked, knowing he was making his own silent point.
Chef appeared then, and I whispered, “Saved by the bell,” to myself. It was my birthday, after all.
“I heard you,” Sheila muttered.
The rest of the evening went like that. Jokes, food, drinks, laughs, and more food.
When it came time for cake, Mick told me to sit and close my eyes.
I did as I was told and heard the girls approach while singing “Happy Birthday.”
“Open up,” he told me.
When I did, there was a giant cupcake made from regular-size cupcakes, each with a candy ring in them, until a single cupcake at the very top, where a real ring sat atop the pink icing.
There were no birthday candles, only the candles on the table twinkling around us, as I stared wide-eyed at the cake and the sparkling gem at the top of the tier. No one spoke for a moment, especially me, as I took a moment to register what all this meant.
“Mom.”
