We share a rueful grin.
When our food comes out, Archie tucks into the Plank Walk Pancake Stack because he has no instinct for self-preservation when it comes to themed menu items. Vaughn got a burger, which feels deliberately rebellious in a pancake restaurant. Billy has ordered something with enough protein to fuel a small army, because Billy.
“So I hear the bubble machine incident made TikTok,” Andrew says.
I close my eyes. “Who told you?”
“Archie sent the video to our group chat,” Justin says.
“Eleven thousand views,” Archie says proudly.
“I was ambushed by a malfunctioning bubble machine while wearing a dinosaur suit. That’s not content. That’s a workplace injury.”
“You slipped on the bubbles and did a full split,” Billy says. “That’s impressive flexibility for a man your age.”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Like I said.”
“The real highlight was when Snugglesaurus went down and all the kids dogpiled on top of him,” Archie says. “One of them tried to ride him like a horse.”
“She nearly broke my spine.”
“She was five, Leo.”
“She had the grip strength of someone twice her size. Billy, you’d have been impressed.”
“I am impressed. We should get her into boot camp.”
I sit back and let the noise wash over me as they continue to discuss Billy’s plan to create a kids’ boot camp, which Archie immediately tries to rebrand as “Tiny Titans,” and Jaymee vetoes on the grounds that no child should be subjected to Billy’s warm-up routine.
A year ago, I didn’t have this—a table full of people I actually wanted to spend time with, in a city that was starting to feel like home.
After Archie came to see me in Detroit, I only went back to San Francisco for two weeks to sort out logistics before permanently relocating to London to be with him. It was actually a good strategic move for my business because it enabled me to expand my European client base.
But somehow, I’m still regularly climbing into the Snugglesaurus and Sparkle McHornface costumes to help Archie out on the weekends.
Somehow, I’m in a relationship where embarrassing costumes count as foreplay.
The rest of dinner passes the way all birthday parties should, overlapping conversations, stolen food, and at least one argument about whether the mechanical parrot counts as ambiance or a health hazard. Archie is in his element, orbiting between every conversation at the table like a satellite that refuses to commit to a single trajectory. At one point, he has Billy and Vaughn in stitches over something I miss becauseJustin is telling me about a recent sales pitch of his that went spectacularly wrong.
But when Trevor comes out with the dessert menus, Jaymee starts to gather her stuff.
“Right, as this is both your birthday and your anniversary dinner, we’re going to leave you two to have a romantic dessert.”
She pulls Archie into a hug. “Happy birthday, you ridiculous human.”
Billy claps him on the shoulder with enough force to rattle the table. “Core strength, mate. You took that well.”
Andrew and Justin also head out, Andrew reminding us about dinner at their place on Friday. And Vaughn leaves with the promise to catch up with Archie in the morning.
After everyone leaves, Archie shifts closer to me in the booth. His head finds my shoulder.
“Thank you for coming back here,” he says.
“You didn’t give me a choice. You sent me a calendar invitation titledAnniversary Dinner (nonnegotiable)with the location already pinned.”
“That’s called organization. You should appreciate it. You’re a consultant.”
