She grins. “The kitchen soundsgreat.”
As they walk off, Jules, Edgar, and I huddle together. “Is Oliver ready?” Edgar asks.
“I guess so,” I tell him. “Areyou?”
“Yeah. Jules has an extra set of scrubs in her bag for Maureen to dress in when she gets here. People might notice if my mom’s costume suddenly changes in the middle of the party.” His eyes flicker to the kitchen. “I’m just going to make sure she doesn’t need anything.”
As he heads through the crowd, I’m the only one who sees the pain written on Jules’s face. She turns away, and her eyes widen. “Allieis here? Who invited her?”
“Herself,” I say mildly. “But, Jules, there’s something you need to know—”
Just then Chris walks up to Allie, holding a can of Diet Coke. Their heads bend together, laughing, as they talk.
“And . . .nowthis night can’t get any worse,” Jules moans.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. He deserves to be happy,” Jules says, but she isn’t looking at Chris. She’s staring at Edgar as he weaves away from her.
The party plays out before me like a scene from a movie, like something I’m watching but not part of. Laughter and talking and dancing and movement; conversations full of gestures that look, at a distance, like charades. Edgar comes up behind me, close enough to whisper in my ear. “Who knew a hurricane could be so much fun?” he says.
I turn, and when I see other people watching us I thread my fingers through his, putting on a show. “I was just thinking,” I say, “about how it doesn’t rain in the book.”
He frowns, then nods. “You’re right. I guess I never really noticed.”
“When Oliver first came here and it rained, he asked who was crying. I think that’s the only precipitation he’d ever seen—a reader’s tears.” I look up at Edgar. “You know how nobody likes the rain here? How we duck out of it, or complain when our shoes get wet, or get pissed off if we forget to bring an umbrella? Well, Oliver loved it. He thought it was the most miraculous thing, that the sky could leak and fix itself again. That first storm, he ran outside, flung his arms wide, and just turned in circles, laughing as he got drenched.”
I glance out the window again. “The last week Oliver washere, it rained. I noticed when he came to school, he was carrying an umbrella. And I thought,Did I do that to him? Did I make him stop believing in magic?”
“Maybe we just adapt to where we need to be,” Edgar says. “Maybe thatisthe magic.”
I take a deep breath and nod as Jules approaches. She’s fixed her makeup, but I can tell she’s been crying—her eyes are red-rimmed.
“It’s past nine,” she says. “Should we get ready?”
I look from Edgar to Jules; they’re staring so intently at each other that I expect the space between them to spontaneously combust. “Can I have a minute with Jules?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, but I’m pretty sure they don’t hear me.
In the kitchen, I find my mother and Jessamyn sticking eighteen candles in the cake. “One for good luck,” I tell her desperately. “You can’t forget that. It’s the most important.”
My mother looks at me oddly but heads into the pantry to find an extra candle.
Jessamyn puts her hand on my arm. “Thank you, Delilah,” she says. “For doing this for Edgar. And for me.”
I open my mouth to tell her that she’ll be celebrating many more birthdays with her son, but then catch myself. “Edgar loves you,” I tell her. “More than anything. He’d give up everything for you, you know.”
“I’m a very lucky woman,” Jessamyn says, and over her surgical mask, her eyes are too bright.
She blinks away her tears as my mother returns, holding not just the candle but also a box of matches.
I glance at my phone. It’s 9:10.
“Let’s do this,” I say, exhaling.
While my mother lights the candles, I go into the living room and turn off the laptop that’s playing music. Conversation trickles, drying to silence, as everyone turns to me. “Where’s the birthday boy?” I ask.
“Here,” Jules announces. She walks into the room, pulling Edgar behind her. I have no idea what transpired between them, but they both look like they’ve been through a war. Jules lets go of Edgar when he reaches the dining room table, and comes to stand beside me, across from him.
