“It’s today. June 28.” She sighs and her shoulders droop. She looks me up and down and I wonder what she sees. My hair is up in a bun today. I have no makeup on. I’m all loud, bright colours and patterns—the flower skirt paired with an emerald tank top. “Zander doesn’t like birthdays. I’m sure you can understand. But I think he’d like to see you today. You’re good for him. You’reso vibrant. You care. Would you mind wishing him a happy birthday?”
“Surprise!” I say on Zander’s doorstep, arms loaded with cupcakes, candles, and a present wrapped in sparkly paper.
“Addie,” he says, face slack.
I’ve seen this man sad and dejected many times, mostly because that seems to be his default setting anytime he’s not looking at me, but this is the most pathetic I’ve ever seen him. My heart tugs at the sight of him. Because here he is with his hair hanging limp over his eyes, making no move to flip it away, and his cheeks unshaven. His shoulders are slumped, covered by a white T-shirt with a hole at the collar. He doesn’t light up the way he usually does when he sees me. No crinkles next to his eyes or bemused smirk. Even Lucy lazes on the floor next to his sofa with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry. Do you want me to leave?”
He blinks several times, then shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. I’m sorry—you—I…I just wasn’t expecting you.”
“I should have called. I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d want company. Peggy told me it was your—”
Zander grabs my wrist, pulls me into his apartment. “I would have said no if you’d called because I’m a mopey son of a bitch. This is better. I would rather you be here with me.”
“Well,” I say as he takes everything from my hands and places them on his kitchen counter, “at least we’re self-aware.”
He snickers. “First time I’ve laughed today.”
Looking at him makes me want to cry. The charming man I know is nowhere today. He blends into the gloomy grey of hisapartment. The walls, the furniture, even the light fixtures are all so dull. No wonder he feels the way he does. I would simply wither and die if I came home to a place like this. The only colour, as promised, are the paintings his grandmother made for him, a few dog toys sprinkled on the ground, and an orange flowerpot with an orchid I sent him home with yesterday.
I exhale. “Oh, Zander, honey, come here!”
He doesn’t fight me as I wrap him in my arms. His head falls onto my shoulder and I cradle it, looping his hair around my fingers. All my senses are consumed by him; the feel of his soft, slightly damp hair, the woodsy scent of his shampoo, the touch of his large hands on my back, the measured, relaxed breathing.
“Do you want to sit?” I ask. “I have cupcakes.”
Zander pulls away, though it looks like it kills him. He reverses, grabs the cupcakes off the counter, and reaches for me. I take his hand, squeeze it like I want to squeeze him, and follow him to his leather sofa. I crash land on top of him, folding my legs over his, leaving no room for personal space. I eye the vanilla cupcakes with bright blue icing and rainbow sprinkles on the coffee table where he dropped them.
“Do you have a lighter?” I ask, leaning away from him to see if I can reach the cupcakes from here. “I want to celebrate you. Is that okay?”
“That’s okay.” He reaches behind him to a drawer on his end table and fishes around blindly. “Here,” he says, passing me a silver lighter. “It’s old. Don’t remember the last time I used it. But you can celebrate me if you want.”
“Don’t sound so sad about it.”
He smirks. “I’m sure Gran told you I hate birthdays.”
“She did. And I’m sure you’ll tell me all about that, but first!”
I lean forward and can’t quite reach with Zander’s hand holding onto my hip. I level him with a stare and he bites backanother smirk, but lets me go. I free a cupcake from the plastic with a theatricalahaand Zander huffs out a bemused laugh.
Good. Oh, good.
I stick the stupid candle I found on my way out of the craft store into the icing, then lick my finger. Zander’s eyes follow every one of my movements. I light the candle and turn toward him with a grin.
“Happy birthday!”
Zander laughs so hard he blows out the candle. It’s a gold plaque in the shape of an oval with the wordsblow meinscribed in silver wax. Of course I would find the most obscene candle I could. Peggy even smiled as she saw me pick it up from an end cap.
“Did you make a wish? I didn’t get to sing for you.”
“You’re more than welcome to sing for me.”
“No, the moment is gone. Now’s the time for this.”
I remove the candle and shove the cupcake in his face. He doesn’t expect it and winds up inhaling most of the icing. He coughs through uproarious laughter and dives for a cupcake of his own. I jump from the couch, armed with the spoils of the cupcake I crushed in his face. It crumbles in my hand, perfectly moist and fluffy. I raise an eyebrow, daring him to come at me.
We’re on either end of the coffee table, our legs spread in power poses, ready to spring. He licks icing from his lips, leaving the blue blob on the tip of his nose. Zander jumps first. He fakes me out to the left, before circling right. I accidentally play right into his hands. I propel myself forward and into his arms. They wrap around my waist, lifting me off the ground, and slamming me back onto the couch.
