“I think it’ll be fun,” he tells me. “It’s nineties themed. I’ll be bringing Susie as my plus one. She’s already working on her outfit, and we just got the invite this morning.”
I laugh. “That’s great, Dad.”
We spend the next hour talking about work and family, and I do my best not to be bothered by the fact that I haven’t been invited to Weston’s birthday, but my dad has. I can’t help but wonder if I did something wrong.
Was it because I hung up on Parker and never called him back?My stomach churns with nerves as I finally tell my dad goodbye and catch the rideshare car waiting for me outside. The sky opens up with rain as I shut the passenger back seat door and lean my head against the seat.
Ugh. Why am I not invited?
But before the thought can penetrate further, my phone begins to ring. With a sigh, I fish it out of my jacket pocket, seeing Amy’s name lighting up the screen. Hope fills my chest.
“Hey!” She’s as bubbly and bright as ever.
“Hi, Amy,” I reply, buckling my seatbelt. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering how much you love the nineties? And if you’d want to come to Weston’s birthday party? I was trying tomake it through my list this morning, but I got caught up with work for a while.”
I smile, relief flooding my chest. “Yeah, of course. Just send me the details and I’ll be there.” My heart skips a beat as I realize, not only will I be meeting Susie, but I’ll also be seeing Weston for the first time since we started writing each other secret letters.
And that has me feeling all sorts of ways as Amy lays out the details.
By the time I make it back to my apartment, I’m giddy with excitement, and when I open my mailbox and see a letter waiting on me, my smile only grows wider.
Brittany,
I tried to find some cool holiday for this day, but Google failed me. I promise I’ll do better next time. I’m sure you probably know by now, but I’m having a birthday party. Well, Amy and Parker are throwing me one. The whole thing seems excessive, but it’s fine. Maybe it’ll be fun. I hope to see you there.
As far as my childhood, it was actually pretty good. I grew up in California (tragically, considering I can get a sunburn in about four minutes tops). I was an only child. My parents worked on film crews, so they were gone a lot when I was growing up. I spent most of my timewith our nanny, who basically helped raise me. She was a huge part of my life, and losing her when I was seventeen was … really hard.
My parents, though, are still together—over thirty years now. They’ll be the first to admit it hasn’t always been easy, and they’ve definitely had seasons that were messy and complicated, but they also swear it was all worth it. Somehow, they’re more in love now than they were when I was a kid. I guess growing up watching them choose each other over and over again made me believe that kind of love can actually exist.
Which might explain a lot about me.
I used to go to Florida sometimes with my parents. It was a blast, but the surfing was terrible. You should ask me about the one time I almost drowned. It’s hilarious.
I’ll see you in nineties garb … Hopefully.
Yours truly,
Weston
P.S. The Superman cape is definitely your color. But if we’re being transparent, I think every color might be.
Chapter Twenty-One
Weston
“Happy Birthday” rings out in Parker’s kitchen like everyone actually wants to be at this party. Somehow, Amy managed to fill Parker’s penthouse with people to celebrate me turning thirty-one, and I have no idea how she did it. Most of the guests are from work, but there’s a few other friends and acquaintances.
I think she just wanted to throw a party.
My parachute pants straight from Goodwill are a little baggier in my waist than I’d prefer, and my forest green and red T-shirt makes me feel like someone should call the fashion police, but other than that, it’s going well, and seeing Brittany’s pretty face standing in the crowd makes it all worth it anyway. She looks ravishing in her light-wash overalls, neon shirt, and a scrunchyin her high ponytail. I can barely look away from her to blow out the candles.
“Let the party commence!” Amy calls out.
She jumps in and starts cutting the cake with Parker, the two of them working together like a happy little team. It’s endearing, and I don’t miss the way they’re exchanging glances and looking at each other like they hung the moon. It’s adorably annoying.
“Have you met my dad’s new girlfriend?” Parker turns to me, holding out a piece of cake. I can’t totally read the expression on his face, but it appears to be neutral. I guess that’s a good thing.
