“I haven’t met her yet,” I tell him, taking the fluffy chocolate cake with buttercream icing. It has CDs and cassette tapes drawn all over it with purple icing. Very nineties.
“You should,” Parker steps away from where some of Amy’s friends have now stepped up to help her serve cake. “She’s different.”
I furrow my brow. “In what way?”
“In a good way. I think they might actually go the distance.” Parker nods to his dad, a man I barely recognize, and then the woman beside him. She’s in nineties garb, and her gray hair is a curly, puffy mess. The way she’s smiling makes her appear warm, down to earth, and approachable.
“She looks nice,” I tell him.
“She is. Brittany told me that he’s thinking about moving to Florida to be closer to her.” Parker frowns at the latter part of what he says.
“I mean, if that’s what makes him happy, why not? After everything the guy has been through in his life, I think he deserves to find happiness.” I keep my tone light and careful. Parker’s family life is a touchy subject. I don’t delve into it often with him, which is why Brittany was always a topic kept at arm’s length.
And why he’d probably kill me if he knew she was my pen pal.
“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy before…” Parker’s voice trails off as Amy catches his attention with something I miss. I take the opportunity to slip off into the crowd, making my way toward somewhere with hopefully less people.
Ireallywant to talk to Brittany, but fresh air should come first. The nineties rap is ruining my ability to think, and I realize that maybe it was a good thing I was a toddler in the decade. It was better off that way for sure.
Slowly, with nice nods and acknowledgements to the people who wish me a happy birthday, I make my way to the balcony, relieved when I see no one is standing out there. I flip the latch and slip through the door, ensuring that I close it fully behind me. Maybe if people see the door shut and no one out here, they won’t get the idea of joining me.
I breathe in deeply, my eyes raking across the city lights. I’m always struck by the lights at night. There’s just nothing quite like looking out across New York City. It’s almost magical.
And that’s why I’ll always stay here, I think.
Though, I’m not sure about raising kids in a place like this. Maybe I’ll move them north and out of the city for a while—buy a nice house and raise them in the suburbs.
Ha, yeah right. I have to find someone first to even think about that.
I sigh at the overwhelming disappointment that fills my chest. I have no idea if I’ll ever find someone to build a family with, and now that I’m officiallyinmy thirties, it feels like I’m running out of time.
“Hey there, stranger.” The voice behind me causes me to catch my breath, and I turn to see Brittany stepping out into the evening, a plate with a slice of cake in her hands. She does the same thing I did, ensuring she closes the door carefully and fully. “I see you’re escaping your own birthday party.”
“Something like that.” I chuckle, taking in the way she forks a bite, which has more icing than actual cake. She opens her mouth and slides her lips along the plastic silverware, causing my mouth to water in a way that hasnothingto do with the cake itself. I don’t know what it is about the woman that draws my attention, but I have to admit, she does it better than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life.
“We should go over there.” Brittany nods to the corner of the balcony, where no one can see us through the glass doors. “I don’t know about you, but that music and crowd was getting to be a little overwhelming.”
“Yeah, I had no idea I had this many friends.” I laugh, leading the way and then setting my own plate of cake down on the patio table. My stomach is too busy fluttering with butterflies for me to worry about adding sweets to it.
“Are they all your friends?” Brittany leans against the railing, giving me a skeptical look. “I didn’t recognize half the people in the room.”
“Me either.”
She giggles, taking another bite of cake. “Did you see my dad’s new girlfriend?” She bounces her eyebrows, and I notice the stark contrast in the way Brittany handles it versus her brother. She seems to be more accepting of the idea.
Or maybe that’s just how she copes.
“I saw her. I haven’t talked to her, but she looks cool, I guess.” Again, I’m careful with how I approach the topic, not wanting to rub anyone the wrong way.
“She’s really nice.” Brittany doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “I like her. I think she balances out my dad’s grumpiness. Kind of like Amy with Parker.”
“So, if your dad is where Parker got his grouchy side from,” I begin, mulling it over, “where did you get your personality from? Your mom?”
She shrugs. “I don’t think so. She can be a bit of a grouch, too. I must’ve inherited an ancestor’s personality.”
“That’s a relief.” I chuckle, eyeing her. The longer I hold her gaze, the more unsettled my heart thumps in my chest. I don’t know how to process someone like Brittany. She’s like looking at a princess in real life, and I don’t think she knows it.
“It’s nice to see you in person,pen pal.” She giggles, once again bouncing her eyebrows at me. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen all day—maybe ever.
