Anne opened her mouth to answer, then considered. She wanted to defend Cricket’s honor, but at the same time realized she hadn’t actually seen her roommate all week.
James watched her expression change and let out a self-satisfied sigh. “Like I said, shacking up.”
“Well, I’m happy for her,” Anne said, thankful that the cake recipe propped up on her phone gave her something to concentrate on right now.
“So am I!” James countered. “But it’s weird, right? The guy hasn’t stopped talking about his ex-wife all year, and now Cricket’s practically moved in.”
Anne turned to him, offering him a slight smile. “Which one of them are you slut-shaming again?”
James did his best impersonation of someone truly offended. “In this house, we don’t slut-shame, Anne. We slut-celebrate.”
Anne laughed and turned back to the recipe. “Okay, I need you to focus, James. This is a surprise birthday cake for your husband, not mine.”
“Right. Yes. Okay.” James set his phone down on the counter and focused his attention on where Anne had meticulously lined up the ingredients on the counter. “What do we need to do next?”
“Once the oven is preheated, we need to mix the dry ingredients together, then the wet—”
James snickered.
Anne threw him a look, then continued. “And then we bake for thirty minutes.”
“Perfect. Ellis is at work and I told him I was finishing up the Christmas decorations, so he’ll probably avoid home for ages,” James said with an eye roll. “He hates decorating.”
From the looks of their apartment, Anne would not have guessed. It might have been the day before Thanksgiving, but James and Ellis’s apartment was already decorated top to bottom for the holidays. Their wreath went up on the door on November first and, inside, their tree was set up in the living room just a few days later. The balsam was twelve feet tall and apparently from New Hampshire, with branches completely concealed below a layer of carefully curated ribbon and ornaments that coordinated with the room’s décor.
James caught her expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, eyeing the plastic mistletoe hanging above the door. “I just usually wait until after Thanksgiving to tackle Christmas.”
“I love Christmas. So sue me.”
“Aren’t you Jewish?” Anne asked.
Now James did, in fact, look offended. “This is a Chrismukkah household, Anne. There’s a menorah on the mantel.”
She smiled. “Well, it’s great to see interfaith representation in the building. Even if it’s a month early.”
“It brings me joy,” he said, lifting his chin defiantly. “And you should never delay what brings you joy.”
Her head cocked to the side as she considered. “That’s a good line.”
“Thanks. It’s my therapist’s,” he said with a wink. “But enough about her. We have a surprise birthday party in two days and all I have to show for it is a deconstructed cake.”
“Which will be constructed soon,” she reminded him.
“Right. Good.” James let out a long breath. “So, Friday afternoonwhile he’s at the gym, I’ll go up to the roof deck and set up the table. The heaters are still working up there, right?”
She nodded. “They replaced the fuel a few weeks ago.”
“I don’t know what to order for food, so I thought I’d just get everything on the menu at Dim Sum Palace and pick it up an hour or so before the party. Can you lay it out upstairs?”
Another nod. “I’ll use the freight elevator so I won’t risk running into Ellis.”
“And I texted Cricket to remind her to be up there at seven,” James mused. “God, do you think she’ll bring Glen?”
Anne cringed. “She might.”
“Fine,” James said with a sigh. “At least people will be there. I have residual trauma from the last time Ellis’s birthday fell on the day after Thanksgiving and no one showed up to his party. We were eating canapés for a week.”
