“Then you need some help.” She gave Elizabeth a pat on the shoulder before she walked out.
Reading was fun, Elizabeth reminded herself. She checked the time, noting that the change of shift was coming up soon. The sauce could simmer until Bill and this new deputy wanted to eat, but she really had made a lot, so she’d put some in containers for John and Terry.
Like a reverse birthday gift, she decided.
“Help’s arrived.”
Elizabeth turned from reaching high into a cupboard for lidded containers.
Terry stood grinning with a box wrapped in shiny pinkpaper with a big white bow trailing ribbons. Beside her, John held a small gift bag and a white bakery box.
“You…you got me gifts.”
“Of course we got you gifts. It’s your birthday. And we got cake.”
“Cake.”
John set the box down on the table, flipped up the lid. “Double-chocolate fudge with buttercream icing.”
“My pick,” Terry informed her. “Happy birthday, Liz.”
“Thank you.” The cake said the same, in fancy pink piping. It had rosebuds and pale green leaves.
“It’s not carrot cake,” she murmured.
“I have a religious objection to any pastry made from a vegetable,” Terry told her.
“It’s very good, really. But this looks much better. This looks…like a real birthday cake. It’s beautiful.”
“We’ll have to save room for itandthe ice cream,” John said. “After the birthday dinner. We were going to get pizza, but you started those meatballs, so we adjusted.”
Everything went bright, as if the sun burst through the pounding rain. “You’re going to stay.”
“I repeat, it’s your birthday. No way I’m missing out on ice cream and cake. We’ll wait for the others for eats, but I think you should open your gifts now.”
“Really? It’s all right?”
“Obviously, the genius doesn’t comprehend the power of birthday. Here.” Terry pushed the box into Elizabeth’s hands. “Open mine. I’m dying to see if you like it.”
“I like it already.” And she began to carefully slit the tape.
“I knew it. She’s one of those. One of those,” Terry explained, “who takes ten minutes to open a gift instead of ripping away.”
“The paper’s so pretty. I didn’t expect anything.”
“You should,” John told her. “You should start expecting.”
“It’s the best surprise.” After folding the paper, Elizabeth lifted the lid. She lifted out the thin cardigan with rufflesflowing down the front and tiny violets scattered over the material.
“It’s beautiful. Oh, there’s a camisole with it.”
“That’s not your mother’s twinset,” Terry declared. “You can wear it with jeans, or dress it up with a skirt. It looked like you.”
No one had ever told her she looked like ruffles and violets. “I love it. I really love it. Thank you so much.”
“My turn. I had a little help picking these out. So if you don’t like them, blame my wife.”
“She helped you? That was so nice of her. You have to thank her for me.”
