“Look at you rocking Barbie’s dream tea party getup!” Catherine coos as I meet her in front of my building.
“Thank you.” I offer a curtsy. “And I’m sure you’re in something equally fancy.”
“That I am.” She touches the brim of her purple hat. “I’m even rocking Grandma O’Brien’s pearls.”
I tilt my head. “Okay, what’s happening, woman?”
This is all a little fancy for a typical Saturday. It makes me suspect she has something up her sleeve.
“Patience, my dear Jensen.” Playfulness hums in her sassy lilt.
Arms looped, we mosey down the street. My apartment is a short walk from downtown. The cool ocean breeze mixes with the sun’s warmth, making it the perfect fall day stroll with my bestie. Plus, our outfits are too cute not to be on parade.
Hoots and cheers of “Happy birthday!” greet us as we walk into the cottage’s outdoor courtyard.
“What! What did you do?” Laughing, I twist to face Catherine.
“Not me.” She points to Garrett, who stands at the center of the cluster of people—my people. “Your man.”
Garrett strides up. The sunshine allows me to take in how the pale gray suit he wears molds over his muscular frame.
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.” He kisses my cheek.
“It’s not until Wednesday.” I laugh, which is my new coping mechanism for when the emotions overflow inside me.
My tears still come, but I’m getting better at redirecting them with the work I’m doing with Dr. Nor. As she says, tears are justthe body’s natural safety valve to ensure things don’t become too much.
It appears my boyfriend has booked the entire teahouse for the afternoon to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. Everyone is here. Even Kayla dialed in. My parents drove down from Solvang. They and Garrett’s parents, Ellie and Jason, are swapping embarrassing stories about us over tea sandwiches. I can’t believe they and Bryce, Lara, and Marshall all flew in.
Garrett even invited Andrew and his husband, who are trying to play matchmaker with Anker and Lara. Though, neither of them appears interested in the other beyond friends. It’s for the best. Anker is still hung up on Sonora. Not to mention, as Catherine teases, this friend group has enough clichéd romantic trope pairings with Garrett and me.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” I whisper to Garrett.
“I’d do anything for you.” He bands his arms around me. “I hope you know that.”
“I do.” I tip my head up to him, my heart about to burst with how much I love this man.
“Come with me.” He takes my hand and guides us into the cottage. “I have something for you.”
“Is it a quickie in the bathroom?” I wiggle my hips.
“Not when your father, who brags about being descended from Vikings, is ten feet away.” He laughs.
“Not to mention my uncles and Aunt Margot, and she’s a black belt.”
Once in the cottage, he places a giftbox in my hand. I run my fingers on the smooth paper and the silky ribbon binding it.
“You didn’t need to get me a present. This is already so much,” I say, but open the gift anyway.
I pull out a scarf, a hat, and a pair of gloves. The fabric is buttery soft against my skin.
“Are these cashmere?”
“And they are pink.” He grins. “Thought they’d keep you warm when we look at Christmas lights this year.”
Plans. So many plans. For a man who only wanted time with the people he loves, Garrett has laid out more and more plans for us. A cooking class we signed up for next week. The joint Halloween costume of us as lion tamers and Ditka as our fierce feline. A trip to London in the spring for the marathon and to visit Kayla. With each big and small plan, I know that Garrett’s own healing journey is progressing to the next mile marker.
“Chicago in December is no joke, so I’ll want to ensure you’re warm.”
