That’s an improvement.
Lily
I feel like it’s my fault we’re not celebrating you. Sorry.
Again. Stop it. All of you. My birthday is in a few weeks when we go party.
Saar
Love you.
Good night.
Iput my phone away and bring Pitt’s fluffy, lethargic body closer. At this point, it’s more the cat hugging me than the other way around.
Did I want to spend my birthday alone? No. Though I can’t argue with a quiet evening. It’s pleasant. Isn’t it?
I bury my fingers in Pitt’s fluffy coat, the vibration of his purring therapeutic.
I understand that Lily is in the midst of a public scandal, and going out with her wouldn’t be enjoyable for any of us.
And I know Celeste would pump and come, but then feel anxious about leaving baby Amelie for a couple of hours. At this stage of motherhood, it must feel like an abandonment. Or so I hear.
And she offered her place, but thatwouldn’t be much of a celebration. She’d be distracted, and we would all just focus on that adorable little girl of hers.
I didn’t want to impose on them, so I insisted we postpone.
As a birthday gift to myself, I left work early, leaving Sanjay to mind the shop. I should review the financials, but no amount of staring at the spreadsheet would make my father’s business more profitable, so fuck that.
At least for one day.
Well, technically, a second day of freedom in the span of a week. The lemongrass and sandalwood are long washed out, but when I close my eyes, their scent lingers.
I should have reached out to Xander to thank him. Especially after our outing was halted abruptly. But I almost gave in to his charm, so I’m sure he appreciates my sparing him an awkward dance. I’m glad I don’t have his number.
In light of my real life and duties, I realized how unrealistic such an affair would be. He might say he doesn’t care about my age, but that proves the point. He is careless, and I need to be responsible.
Besides, I don’t think Xander Stone is a guy you sleep with and forget. Not a girl like me. Jesus, I’m forty, not seventeen, so why do I feel like giving in andhaving fun with him is akin to sneaking out of my parents’ house to meet a boy? What is wrong with me?
Standing up to Pitt’s loud protests, I refill my wineglass and search for a journal in my purse. The sunflower-covered one has been missing. Have I left it at work? Perhaps it’s in my bedroom?
A knock on the door stops my search. Is that little Pavel? My eight-year-old neighbor visits occasionally. When his parents argue. Sometimes I wish I weren’t working so much, so I could give him refuge more often.
I open the door, and my heart swells. “What are you doing here?”
Saar pushes her way through. “I ran out of Zinfandel, so I came.”
“Did you really think we’d leave you alone on your birthday?” Celeste gives me a quick hug.
“Happy Birthday.” Lily enters, wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, and an oversized male jacket.
I open my mouth, and she raises her hand to silence me. “Don’t say anything. Declan wouldn’t let me leave the house unless I disguised myself.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better, but we’re not talking about me tonight. I need a night that isn’t about me.” She sheds the jacket and the cap.
“And I need an hour or two when I’m not a milkfactory.” Celeste pulls chips, popcorn, and cupcakes from a large bag I didn’t even realize she carried.
