I should have felt guilty about the white lie, butIdidn’t.Noteven close.
I might have intentionally removed two of the three house numbers from the railing whileAurorawasn’t looking.Then,Iconvinced her that we needed to drive to a fancy hardware store inMoreheadCityfor replacements.Itwas a trip that got her out of the house for two-and-a-half-hours—just long enough for me to put the planIhad been working on for weeks into action.
“They’ll look great out front,”Isaid asIpulled onto our street. “Andthen delivery drivers will stop leaving your packages at my house.”
It tookAuroraa moment to realize that something was different. “Whyare there a million cars parked on the side of the road?Ihate when people do that.Justuse a freaking driveway.Andif everyone can’t fit in a driveway, there’s too many freaking people.”
I laughed under my breath asIpulled into the drive.Thankfully, no one had parked there, per my instructions.
“You have summertimers in your yard,”Aurorasaid as she gathered the hardware store bags from the floorboard when the truck came to a stop.
Hearing her call them “summertimers” did something funny to me.Itwas a local saying.Andshe had become one whether she realized it or not.
I rounded the hood and opened her door. “I’lldeal with it later.”
Aurora’s flip-flopped feet hit the driveway as the wind picked up the hem of her dress.Itwas a short little number that had me half-regretting what was about to happen.Iwanted to ravage her in obscene ways.
“You look really pretty today,”Isaid asIslid my hand onto her back and led her up the stairs.
“I need to find a laundromat soIcan wash my shorts.”
Another convenient white lie.Auroradidn’t have a washer and dryer, and mine had “mysteriously” broken this week.
“My washing machine should be fixed tomorrow,”Isaid. “Thatpart is supposed to come today.”
The very fake part thatIpretended tohave orderedthree days ago.
But it had been reason enough forAurorato dress up today.Shelooked pretty all the time, but today was special.Shejust didn’t know thatIknew it.
A wall of sound hit us like aMacktruck the moment she unlocked the door.
“SURPRISE!”
Aurora shrieked and jumped back into my chest.
Lights cut on as a crowd of party people jumped out from behind the kitchen island, couches, out of rooms, and around the staircase.
A chorus of "HappyBirthday,Aurora!” rose up.Eventhrough the melee,Aurora’sgasp of shock was audible.
Drew, the half of theCedarIslandFireDepartmentthat wasn’t currently on shift, andErnieand the staff from theFish‘nFuelwere the first to collapse on her with birthday wishes and hugs.Aurorastiffly accepted each one.
As soon as the hellos subsided, someone broke out into a boisterous rendition of “HappyBirthday.”
“Wait . . .”Aurora’seyes shifted to the side. “Thatsounds like . . .”
Whitney and her husband,Miles, were the first down the stairs.Willowwas right behind them, carrying a massive cake topped with lit sparklers.
Aurora clapped her hands over her mouth the moment she spotted her friends. “Whatin the?—”
The song came to a crescendo asWillowpresentedAurorawith the cake.Stillin shock, she blew out the candles.
I expected her to immediately hug her girls.Tomy surprise, she spun and grabbed my hand. “Youdid this.”
“I did.”Ikissed her forehead. “So, let me get a few little lies off my chest so we can enjoy the party with a clean conscience.Mywashing machine is working just fine.Ilied so you’d dress up today.WillowandWhitneyhaven’t been ignoring you.Theywere flying out here.Also, they’re staying upstairs for the next few days.Congratulations, you have house guests.AndImay have stalked you on the internet whenIrealizedIdidn’t know when your birthday was.Yourfan club is very forthcoming about your personal details.I’mpretty sureIcould break into your bank account becauseInow know that you used to have a cat namedMoose, your favorite color is blue, and you grew up onMountainCrestLane.”
I expected her to make an off-the-cuff comment about what a terrifying place the internet is, but she didn’t.
Aurora wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.
