Happy Birthday! - 1. Happy Birthday!

“Mom, Dad.”

I don’t think my parents heard Ella in the din of breakfast rush, as my sister’s voice was unusually meek. So, with her hands curled around the edge of the kitchen table, she finally yelled, “I’m pregnant!”

The pancake Mom had been flipping landed on the kitchen floor with a resounding ‘splat’. Dad’s fingers gripped the pages of the morning paper just a tad firmer. This promised to be better than any tennis match.

Mom’s whole body had gone rigid after Ella dropped the p-bomb. From an early age, she had instilled in us the importance of prevention. To Dad’s greatest embarrassment, she even showed us one day at the breakfast table how to put on condoms properly using bananas. Now she narrowed her eyes and stared at Ella’s belly. Did she think some kind of motherly instinct was allowing her to see the proof of my sister’s revelation wiggling inside her womb?

Dad made actual motions to put away the paper. I always thought he insisted on reading the physical version instead of online, just so he could hide from our morning madness.

We all knew it was April’s Fool’s Day, but one look at Ella’s pale face and trembling body screamed ‘truth’.

Then Ella ruined it. “I want pickles. And raspberry jam.” She pulled out her chair. “And milk, no coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby, right?”

Mom took in a deep breath, totally failing in hiding her relief behind a scowl. “Good one. I almost fell for it.”

Ella snickered. “You should have seen your face. You totally believed me.”

“That’s true, Mom.” I slapped my sister on the back. “Perfect, Ell. Even Dad got nervous.” This close, I could see how much make-up she had applied to fake dark rings and a pale face.

Grumbling, Mom picked up the ruined pancake and threw it in the bin. “I should make you clean up this mess.” After spraying floor cleaner on the greasy spot, she finally mopped everything up with a thick wad of paper towels. “Um...by the way, you’re father and I are getting a divorce.” Then she looked at me. “Oh, happy birthday, baby.”

“What?” Without thinking, I took a large sip of my too hot coffee and promptly burned my tongue. “Ouch! Shit!”

Ella passed me a glass with orange juice to cool my mouth. “Here. Happy birthday, brother of mine. She made a joke.”

We both looked at Dad, who hadn’t said a word, but was walled up behind the paper again. In this family you just never knew, as it had become tradition of sorts to hide unwelcome truth behind a joke, especially on April Fool’s Day—and there had been some loud arguments between our parents for some time.

Luckily, my sister cackled and finally laughed until tears were running down her cheeks, pointing at my face. I felt better immediately. If she didn’t think Mom’s words were true then they weren’t, even if she had been absolutely convincing.’ Ella’s bullshit-meter was unrivalled. No one fooled my sister.

Not to be left out on the fun (insert snort here), I grabbed the syrup and sprinkled it over my birthday pancakes—after I had checked them discreetly for nasty ingredients of course. “I’m gay.” It only got me a few chuckles from Dad and a whispered lame from Ella.

Well. I had told them. That was all that counted. Happy Birthday, to me.

*****

It all started thirty-two years ago, when my teenaged Mom announced she was in labor, and no one believed her, even though she was past her due date, pacing the floor while pressing her hands against her back trying to ease the pain. She actually had to call a cab, carry her bag, and waddle outside all by herself, as my grandparents still believed she was faking it. It was kind of her own fault, though. Just hours before, she had pretended to be in labor because it was April Fool’s Day.

In the end, Mom didn’t make it to the hospital in time and the first thing I saw when I came out of the womb, even though I don’t remember it of course, was the sweaty, panicked face of the Lithuanian cab driver Mykolas Gaida, swearing in his mother tongue. He now is my godfather, and he still calls me Žydrūnas, which means something with blue in Lithuanian.

Having been born on the first of April is a pain in the ass, period. Instead of happily ripping paper off my gifts, I had to be careful, because my sister could have smeared the inside with mayonnaise. I never bite into offered treats again without checking them first, after my best friend exchanged the cream of my favorite Oreos with toothpaste. Just throwing myself into the office chair in the morning? Nu-uh, a colleague could have installed an air horn underneath, making my ears ring for the rest of the day.

Not to forget all the funny gifts I got: glow-in-the-dark dildos, golden jock straps, giant female panties, confetti bombs, wiener cleaning soap, gummi boobs, a potato peeler for left-handed people, and whatnot. I could probably open an exhibition by now if I was so inclined.

This year is going to be different. With my eyes fixed on the screen of my phone, I squint at the little blue arrow pointing at a road that isn’t there. Maybe not that different. Does Google do April Fool’s jokes? Because there is not the slightest gap between the dense rows of trees that indicate I am at the right spot. Wait! There...nah. Fed up, I put the car into park to see for myself. It turns out the not-gap is indeed the beginning of a dirt road. Bitch Google has been right after all. No April Fool yet.

Following the path carefully, I cringe every time I hit a pothole and the car makes this deep groaning noise, telling me it is by no means off-road material. Had I known what to expect, I’d be sitting in an SUV, despite my boss being all about saving expenses. As it was, I rented the cheapest vehicle available, and now we both have to suffer through my ill decision. I hope that it won’t break down until I’m close enough that I can make it to Chase’s cabin by foot.

When I hear the first notes of Anna Naklab’s ‘Supergirl’, I don’t want to take the call, but then do it anyway. “Hey, sis. Keeping tabs on me again?”

“Hey, loser!” She is trying for upbeat, but I can hear the strain in her voice. “Someone has to. Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you!”

“Where are you?”

“On my way visiting a client.” I hold my breath, hoping she’ll take the bait.

“Oh! Do I know him?” Yes!

“I guess.” Just keeping up the suspense a little longer.

“Con! Who is it?” Hah!

“Chase Weintraub.”

“THE Chase Weintraub? Who wrote Me Mirror!!! ?”

“That’s him.” I know that book is her favorite, and she is eagerly waiting for the next part to come out.

“OH my god! You’re the editor slash friend slash muse he’s always talking about in the interviews?” I have her on the hook. Now, I just have to feed her fan-girling with small bits and pieces, praying it’ll last until she hangs up.

“Uh-huh...”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Success!

“Because you would have told all your friends, their cousins, and let’s not forget their twice-removed nephew’s neighbors.”

“I would not!”

I scoff. “You so would.”

“Then why are you telling me now?” Shit!

“Because you asked me. I don’t lie if I can prevent it.” I am screwing this up. “And now I’m giving you a chance to prove me wrong, showing me you can keep a secret after all.” That was another mistake. I know it as soon as the words leave my lips.

“I think not. I guess, you were distracting me on purpose.” Bam! “Did you take your cane?”

I automatically look at the shiny, new piece I gifted to myself this morning. It has a raven head-shaped handle. “Of course.”

“You knew I was going to remind you of your appointment with Miranda this afternoon and—”

“Look—”

“Do you even know Chase?”

“That’s just unfair!” Now she is really getting on my nerves.

Two years ago, I celebrated my birthday at our usual haunt. I was well and truly buzzed when one of my colleagues told me my boyfriend was cheating on me in the bathroom with the hunky waiter he’d been ogling the entire evening. As it was already after midnight, and technically, the first of April had been over, I decided to bite.

Two grinning guys I didn’t know left the room just when I was about to enter. Inside, I looked around and to my great relief, no one was there. The stalls were unoccupied—all bar one.

And then the groaning started. “Yes...”

Like the idiot I was, I pressed my ear against the closed door. I heard shuffling and a zipper. Nothing unusual in a bathroom, right? Voices outside made me quickly step inside the neighboring stall and lock it behind me. Even in my drunken state, I realized it would look as if I was perving on someone being on the toilet to whomever came in and saw me like that.

Unfortunately, I could now hear everything that was going on beside me even better: the panting, the rustling of clothes, some whispered words of praise, low chuckling, and something that sounded suspiciously like ripping open a condom wrapper. It could still have been a ruse. Maybe they didn’t notice it was past midnight and April Fool’s Day was long over? It could be someone else but Neil having fun in there.

Then the telltale slapping of bare flesh against bare flesh started. I had to know. I went down on my hands and knees, not caring about the filthy floor and the vile smell. What I saw made me want to throw up: two pairs of pants pooling around shoes, one of them clearly Neil’s. There was still the chance this was just a prank, and they were having the time of their life, waiting for me to hammer on the wall. At the thought of our friends and colleagues busting in and see me lying on the disgusting tiles, I quickly got up, only to climb on the edge of the toilet bowl instead. Stretched out on the tips of my toes, I peered over the wall.

What I saw was no pretention at all. No April Fool’s joke took place, just harsh reality. The waiter was balls deep inside my boyfriend. By the looks of it, they were both enjoying themselves tremendously.

Next thing I knew, I woke in the hospital all doped up. Obviously, I had slipped and hit my head on the toilet bowl, resulting in a deep gash on my forehead and a severe concussion. Medically, the worst was my shattered hip— for me, it was the embarrassment. I can only imagine what the EMTs, let alone my friends and colleagues, must have thought when they had to drag my drunken ass from between the wall and the toilet, knowing exactly what I had been doing in there and why.

The doctor said they had to puzzle back my hip. I have so much metal in my leg, I sometimes feel like a cyborg. There was more surgery, rehabilitation, and physical therapy, before I eventually had to go to work again. My colleagues and my boss had seen me at my lowest. I was so ashamed the first day I was back in the office. Still, they took one look at my crutches and later my cane, and all they ever did was curse Neil for cheating on me. No one pointed out that I did this to myself while spying on my ass of a boyfriend being fucked in a bathroom. They were very polite.

I still feel the occasional twinge when I take a wrong step, and I freely admit it frightens me, thinking I might fall on my injured hip again. Fact is, I need a cane to walk. I thought it was a great progression: from bed to wheelchair, to crutches, to cane. I am lucky I can walk almost normally, only limping a little, but for my doc, my physical therapist, and my family, that isn’t enough.

They assure me every chance they can, I can walk without limping and without a cane, which is utter bullshit. They have been hounding me ever since, and now Ella topped it off by making an appointment for me with a shrink.

“I am not distracting you.” Well, I was, but just so we wouldn’t get into an argument again.

“Where did you say Chase lives?”

“I didn’t say anything.” And frankly, you’re pissing me off. “You made that appointment without my consent and knowledge, and now you can deal with it.”

“Conrad!”

“Eleanor!”

“Why aren’t you even going to try? Doc said—”

“Gotta go, Ella, I need to concentrate on navigation here.” I hang up before she can say another word and immediately feel better. Why the hell won’t they leave me alone and just accept that I need this cane. Are they ashamed of me? Oh my god, I can’t believe I never thought of that. Of course! Suddenly everything makes so much more sense! My hands tremble so much; I have to stop the car. My face is flushed red with shame, I realize I not only embarrassed myself, but my family too! They don’t want the constant reminder of my fuck-up.

The phone rings again. Expecting to see my sister’s face, I’m relieved it is Chase. “Hey.”

“Con! Where are you?”

“Almost there. I can already see the lake shining through the trees.”

“Perfect timing. Coffee is ready, and the black-forest-cake is waiting to be devoured. Hurry up, or I’ll eat all the cherries on top.”

“You wouldn’t dare! It’s my birthday! I deserve cherries on top!”

“Hm-hm. Maybe you do.” I hear him walking around. “Oh! I can see your car! What were you thinking? Did the rental place run out of SUVs?”

“Well, I didn’t know you live this, um, rural.”

Just then the path opens wider, and the the cabin is right in front of me. Finally! I stop beside my friend’s Land Rover, and the back door swings open. Seeing Chase standing there, smiling as if I hung the moon, feels like tons of rocks are sliding down my back. He makes me feel normal. There will be no pranks this year, no constant watching out, no plastering on a smiling face to a bad joke, just relaxing with a friend and eventually working on his new book with him, two of my favorite things.

“Welcome to my humble abode!”

Seconds later, I feel his arms wrapped around me, my face pressed against his neck. Home.

“Happy birthday!” He presses a quick kiss on my cheek. “Here are the plans for today: First, cake. Then we’ll take the boat, and I’ll show you the most spectacular sunset you’ve ever seen. After that, I’ll cook Pad Thai, and you’ll help me.”

“I will?”

“Only if you want, of course. It’s your birthday. We do what you want. I thought afterwards, we can veg out in front the TV and watch your favorite movies.”

“Love Actually in April?”

“Yep. Until they make an Easter version, it’ll do. And then—”

“Unstoppable.”

“Is that okay?”

“That sounds just about perfect.”

*****

I got to know Chase through his story Me Mirror!!!, which he had been posting online. Immediately drawn to the tragic tale of Umo, an entity, who had to steal other people’s identity and appearance to survive, I suffered with him every time he was forced to steal another life to live. Torn between wishing him success and hoping he survived, when he tried to kill himself again and again, I could hardly wait for Chase to post the next chapter.

I offered him to prove his story, not telling him editing was my actual profession. Then we learned we were practically neighbors. From then on, we met often, first discussing the story, and then later, everything that was going on in our lives. We became fast friends. I was so proud when he told me that something I had said incited the idea of the ending.

I finally confessed that my boring office job was working as an editor at a small, but fine publishing house, when I suggested we polish the story some more and give it to my most critical and harsh colleague. Lucy was also known for finding jewels in the darkest messes. As I hoped, she was as fascinated with Me Mirror!!! as I was. The rest is history.

*****

When I look up from slicing scallions and see Chase chopping ginger into tiny die with his large paws, I can’t help the snort escaping. “I told you I would do that.”

“It’s okay. I kinda like it when my fingers smell of ginger afterwards.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Reminds me of that night you craved Pad Thai, but all the places had already closed, and I ended up Googling the recipe and making it from scratch.”

“I still can’t believe you had everything we needed, even rice noodles. It was one of the best Pad Thai I ever had.”

“You’re always saying that. I’m aiming for topping that tonight. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“Okay. You’re on.”

I turn on the tap to wash my hands. So far, this has been the best birthday in what seems like forever. The black-forest cake had real cherries on top, not this candied crap. The sunset was exactly as awesome as Chase had promised. He’d rowed us almost to the middle of the lake and even brought blankets and hot cocoa, because it gets still chilly out there in April.

I look through the tilted window by the sink and watch the moon over the lake. The air coming in is crisp and fresh. The occasional bird squawks, but otherwise it is pleasantly quiet. In the background, a pan sizzles, and it smells delicious. I could get used to this life. Wait! What?

“Hey, Chase, how long are you planning on staying here?”

“Funny you’re asking that. I’m actually thinking about moving here entirely and subletting the apartment.”

“Oh.” Just like that, the pleasant feeling is gone.

Chase must notice something in my expression, because he immediately asks, “What? You’re going to miss me?”

I turn around, expecting a shit-eating grin, but he is strangely serious. “Of course. You’re my best friend forever.” You’re home to me. “And you never hound me about getting rid of my cane.” Speaking of, where is the damn thing? I finally spot it on the coffee table. No wonder my leg hurts. I carefully limp to the couch, having to hold onto the kitchen counters and walls.

“Just stay over there and start the film, dinner is almost ready. I only need to squeeze some lemon juice over everything and we’re done.”

The scene I like the most in Love Actually is when Darryl declares his unrequited love to Elisabeth Swann. A single tear runs down my face before I realize it and Chase passes me a tissue like he always does.

I don’t know how many times we sat on his couch and watched this film. I laugh at places I feel I saw a million times, and he just watches me and smiles. The same way I won’t comment when he sharpens two pencils every time he starts writing, even though he never uses them. It’s his ritual, and I wouldn’t dream of making fun of it.

“I need another beer. Do you want one too?” He shakes his head, and I get up from the couch and head for the fridge. “Do you have chips?” I need chips for ‘Unstoppable’.

“Yep. In the cupboard over the coffee maker.”

When I plop down beside him on the couch, my hand deep in the bag of chips, he looks at me strangely. Did I miss something? Whatever. Lifting my eyebrow, I look pointedly at the remote in his hand. “Well?”

Instead of pressing buttons, he puts it on the table. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Suddenly my heart beats faster. “Okay.” The hell?

“Say, theoretically, do you need to work from your office at the publishing house, or could you work from home?”

That is not the question I expected, to be honest. I mean, I don’t know what I thought he’d ask, just this feels anticlimactic somehow. “I could work from home. Some of my colleagues do that all the time. Why?”

“Just thinking out loud here.”

“Oh.” This is strange.

Now, Chase furrows his brow. Then he rubs the back of his neck. He’s making me nervous. Finally, he seems to have come to a conclusion. Quickly closing the distance between us, he takes my face in his hands. His warm breath ghosts over my mouth just before he kisses me.

For a short moment, I forget to breathe. I have kissed many guys, but it was never like this. His lips are barely touching mine, still, it feels as if something hot seers through my entire body.

“Um...”

Chase lifts his hand, stopping me from saying anything more. “I have to get this out in one go. The moment you stepped into that dingy coffee place, I knew you would be special to me. I fell in love with you only weeks later, but for all this time, either you or I was in a relationship. We were always out of sync.” His eyes lock with mine. “Until now.”

Well, shit! My mind races a mile a minute. Loving him is my deepest, darkest secret. I only admit it to myself when I’m drunk. And now he is asking me...Does he...Do I...Maybe I‘m getting this all wrong. I get up from the couch and promptly trip over my cane lying on the floor.

I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t do friends with benefits with you. You’re too important to me. I won’t risk what we already have for a mere fling.”

“I don’t either. For years, I’m gearing up to tell you. You’re it for me.”

I can see honesty in his eyes. And the hope. And fear. That I cannot have. Grabbing him by his shoulders, I aim for kissing the ever living shit out of him. Because I finally can.

Happiest birthday to me!

*****

“Here you go!” Chase helps me into the wheelchair.

I had surgery a few days ago to get rid of most of the metal in my body. “Do I really have to use that?”

“Only until we reach the entrance. It’s hospital policy, but you already know that.” He pushes me through the door, and I wave when we pass the nurses’ station. Even though they are nice, I still hope I won’t see them again for a long while.

Outside, Mom and her new boyfriend are waiting for us. “Dad said he’ll come directly to the cabin.” She looks super happy. Yep, the divorce hadn’t been a joke either.

Then Ella materializes out of nowhere. Shit! Chase is in front of me in a moment.

“Damn, Ella! I told you: No jokes, no pranks!”

“I’m not! Well, not really...”

Suddenly a lone clarinet plays the first notes of ‘Happy Birthday’, and people I don’t even know chime in. Some of the nurses are there too, and even my surgeon, and some of my old colleagues. I can’t believe it! She organized an honest to god flash mob!

I have to think of something really good to get back at her. Maybe inventing new traditions, like National August Prank Day.