“You know why,” I say.
“Well, I support you either way. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. Sometimes you feel like the only person who likes Charlie.”
“I like Charlie, he is my friend, and I’m certainly not the person who can tell you to give up on someone. But I also want you to take the advice you gave me. You should open yourself up. The person you are meant to end up with could be the person you least expect. So it might not hurt to date Callahan, too.”
I sigh, and that just makes her seem happier. She ignores my eyeroll and does another toast to my success. We get day drunk, and my mind switches between picturing hazel eyes and some deep brown ones.
I think it makes sense that my hopeless-romantic father was born on Valentine’s Day. Giving himself so freely to every woman he loves, we should celebrate his existence on the day that we are supposed to show that emotion. Which is why I decided to throw him a party. I may have also invited a few older women I’ve met while living in San Francisco, but that is neither here nor there.
“Let me get those.” Charlie lifts the bags of ice from my hands and promptly brings them over to the metal tub I got for the drinks.
Not stopping at dumping them in, he continues to add the beers and mixed drinks.
He has been here since I woke up, looking to do everything he can. I think it’s his way of showing me what kind of partner he will be. Which I like.
I don’t know why I wonder what Callahan would be doing if he were here.
“People should start showing up soon, I just want to make sure it’s all ready,” I say, while spinning around, trying to clear that thought.
The floating balloons and streamers look good in the big living room. They hover above the two couches and the coffee table. Flowing into the hallway, they stop before the kitchen. The island has catering-sized containers of food, and there are bowls of candy on the dining room table.
“Maybe I should let you throw me a party for my birthday,” Charlie says.
Since he hates that day, I know he is joking, but I wish he would. Maybe if he is surrounded by the people he loves, it will be less of a reminder of the ones who haven’t been there since he turned ten.
“I’m going to go change,” I say.
He promises to finish up, and I pop upstairs. When I come back down, there are already people milling about.
Errol walks over to me, with his dimples on display, and a gift in his hands. Having quickly won over my dad with their love of jazz music, I assume that the square shape of it means that it’s an album.
Even with him not wanting me to date Charlie, my father has become a pseudo-dad to him, and now Errol, too. Showing them what a father and a successful Black man looks like, he has always set the example for me for what I should want, and now for what they should be.
“I know Farrah must really love you to be spending today here,” Errol says while giving me a hug.
“You spoil her every day of the year, she can miss out on one.”
“Is someone spoiling you?” Errol asks.
“I’m trying to,” Charlie says, walking up to us and throwing his arm over my shoulder.
They do a quick shake and start talking about a book that Charlie thinks would be a great movie for Errol to direct. The whole time, he holds me to his side. I watch them with something warming in my heart. Knowing that this could be our lives all the time.
“Well, I should go check on Farrah. She is on her period, so she is whinier than usual. I need to keep feeding her before she starts to get on everyone’s nerves.” Errol waves goodbye to us and walks over to his wife.
Without hearing them, I already know that he is babying her, just from the look in her eyes. It’s what he has been doing ever since they stopped fighting long enough to fall in love. You would never know she hated him the first day they met on set by looking at her now.
“Please tell me you aren’t on your period too? I have something in mind for tonight.” Charlie nuzzles my neck, but it creates no response.
I’m too busy trying to catch my breath.
“Excuse me,” I say to him, pulling out of his arms. I storm over and interrupt whatever conversation Farrah is having with Errol, and pull her into the bathroom downstairs.
“What?” she asks after I close the door.
“I didn’t get my period.” I sink onto the closed toilet seat and press my hands to my chest.
