“So,” she says as she hands me the tray, and starts handing out menus. “The restaurant is a little short-staffed so I'm going to be our waitress tonight. Here are your menus, and also a special welcome drink I personally prepared earlier.”
Jenna hands the red and pink drinks around and I notice my mother give her the smile I always describe as “try-hard” but it prompts me to downgrade my Mum Terror Alert to a Hot Amber rather than a Lava Red.
“Oh, Marty, you're going to enjoy this,” my father says, his head stuck into the menu before I've opened my own.
“Oh, yes,” Mum chimes in as she reads.
It's Jenna's turn to cough now for our attention, so I don't get a chance to look at what's on offer although my curiosity is piqued. I've had four days away from a kitchen now and I’m starting to miss it. But I'm suddenly intrigued by what Jenna's doing as she raises her glass and holds it aloft in the middle of the table.
“Maybe we could toast the birthday boy? Would you all raise your glasses and-”
“Wait!” Mum calls out, and she wrinkles her nose and sniffs with her glass under her nose while mine, Dad's and Maeve's are all held aloft.
“Jesus, Mum, it's not alcoholic!” I say loudly, and if I had a hand free, I would probably slam it down on the table.
Mum's neck almost breaks the way it swings her head towards me. “I know, Aiden. I was just going to ask if it has pomegranate in it because Maeve is allergic.”
“Oh,” I say and then mutter a hasty apology.
“What was that, Marty?” Jenna's head turns to me to, her eyes flashing, daring me.
“Sorry, Ma,” I say a little louder.
“It doesn't have pomegranate in, Maeve,” Jenna says with a smile at my sister.
“So, back to a toast,” Dad says, lifting his drink up higher.
“Yes, I'm afraid this is my only gift for you, Marty,” Jenna says. “It's a mocktail named The Marty Party. And well, thank you for letting me share your birthday with you. I hope you enjoy. Happy birthday, Marty!”
“Happy birthday Marty!” Everyone choruses and then takes long sips on the straws in their drinks. But I'm too stunned to move, keeping my drink in front of me.
“Wait, what is this?” Maeve asks. “It's amazing!”
“Not bad.” Dad smacks his lips. “A dash of rum wouldn't go amiss, but not bad at all.”
“It's delicious.” Mum finally changes posture, literally loosening up. “You need to try it, Aidey.”
“You made me a mocktail?” I turn to Jenna. “That's like the best present in the world.”
“Don’t thank me before you've tried it.”
I take a sip. Immediately the layers of different fruits hit me – watermelon, apple, raspberry, all delivered with the fizz of a little lemon and lime bitters, but a beat later the sweetness dies down to reveal cinnamon, fresh mint and possibly a hint of chilli, the heat of which stays on my tongue.
“You like it?” Jenna leans closer to me, while Mum and Dad discuss the menu and Maeve is back on her phone.
“It's perfect. Sweet but not sickly, a little zing and heat, and very, very memorable.”
Jenna blinks once before she speaks, drawing my eyes to her honey-brown pupils and the long lashes that frame them. “Now you know why it's called The Marty Party.”
If hearts could swell up large enough to burst through rib cages, that's exactly what mine would be doing right now. I hold her eyes and hope she can read what I want so desperately to say to her, words that are suddenly at the tip of my tonguebut it's not like they've had far to travel. They've been knocking around my mind all day.
“Thank you,” is what I manage to say instead, but I do bend down and kiss the top of her shoulder, while still holding her gaze. When I pull back, finally able to give the menu my full attention, I catch Mum's eyes on us. It's an undecipherable look, but it seems to have a question mark rather than a hard full stop or loud exclamation mark.
“Wow,” I say, when I finally turn my attention to the menu.
“Fuck yeah!” I whistle as I read the starters.
“Jesus,” I whisper when I'm done considering the mains and sides.
