Happy Birthday: A Novel

“Yes,” April acknowledged with a rueful grin, “it is. I thought about it this morning and started getting really depressed, and then I figured what the hell. I’m lucky I have the restaurant, I can’t worry about what I don’t have.” Ellen was frowning as she took April’s pulse and didn’t comment. “Okay. What’s wrong? My liver, my lungs, or my heart? I had a cold last weekend, but I got over it in two days,” she said proudly, and Ellen smiled.

“Nah, just the usual stuff.” Ellen smiled at her friend. “Some of your defenses are down, but that’s normal for this time of year. We’ll do some moxa.” April loved the warm pungent smell of the moxa that Ellen lit on her belly and deftly removed before it burned her skin. It was both warming and healing and the part April loved best, but she didn’t mind the needles either. Ellen was so good at what she did that she never hurt her, and April always felt relaxed when she left. She’d been doing acupuncture since she got back from Europe, and swore by it, and Ellen was very good. “Any new men in your life?” she asked with interest, and April laughed.

“Four of them, in fact. Three new weekend waiters, and a sommelier I stole from Daniel Boulud.” She chuckled and Ellen shook her head.

“I meant real ones. There’s more to life than just cooking.”

“So they tell me,” April said, and closed her eyes, as Ellen continued to heat the moxa on April’s belly. It felt great. “I was thinking about that this morning. I used to think I’d be married and have kids by the time I was thirty. Now I can’t even imagine it for the next several years. Maybe when I’m thirty-five. I used to think thirty was so old. I still feel like a kid.” She looked like one as well. Like her mother, April didn’t look her age, and she had her mother’s looks, except for the dark hair. They had the same hazel eyes and perfect unlined skin. They were lucky. And April never wore makeup, she couldn’t see the point. It just melted on her face in the heat of the kitchen. She only wore it when she got dressed up and went out to a dinner party or on a date, which hadn’t happened for several years.

“You’ve got a lot to feel good about,” Ellen reminded her. “Most people don’t have successful restaurants at thirty. I’d say you’ve done pretty well.”

“Thank you,” April said quietly, as Ellen removed the moxa and started with the needles. She stopped after a minute and took April’s pulse again. She had an uncanny knack for sensing anything that was off balance, and she was rarely wrong.

“Are your periods screwed up again?” she asked after doing two more needles, and April smiled. Hers had been irregular for years. It was one of the ways the stress of her work manifested itself. Sometimes she didn’t have a period for several months. She was on the Pill, to try and stay regular, and to cover the occasional “slip,” although she didn’t have many. But she didn’t want to take the risk. And she hadn’t had a sexual “slip” in quite a while.

“I haven’t had a period in two months,” April said without concern. “Whenever I work a lot, I don’t get one for months. I’ve been pushing pretty hard. We added some new things to the menu last month.”

“Maybe you should check it out,” Ellen said casually as she did needles on April’s upper arms.

“You think something’s wrong?” April looked surprised.

“No, I don’t,” she reassured her, “but your pulse is funny. I keep picking something up.”

“Like what?”

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“I can’t remember. Why?”

“I’m probably crazy. And I know you’re on the Pill. But maybe you should take a pregnancy test. Did you miss a Pill or two the last time you had sex?”

“You think I’m pregnant?” April sat up, looking shocked. “That’s ridiculous. I slept with a guy I don’t even like. A food critic. He was cute and smart. I plied him with our best wines to impress him, and had too much to drink myself, trying to be friendly. The next thing I knew, I woke up with him in my bed in the morning. I haven’t done anything like that in years. And the bastard even gave us a bad review. He said the menu was childish and overly simplistic, and I’m not using my training or my skills. He was a real jerk.”

“I don’t think not liking a guy is considered birth control,” Ellen said calmly, as April lay down again, looking disturbed.

“Now that I think of it, I only missed one Pill. I was so hung over the next day, I forgot, and I had a sore throat. I hope he got it. I had strep.” She remembered it now, although she had given herself a pass for the indiscretion and had done her best to forget. She almost had, but it came back to her now, with Ellen’s questions.

“Were you on antibiotics?”

“Yeah. Penicillin.”

“That can knock the Pill out of commission. I think you should check it out.”

“I’m not pregnant,” April said firmly.

“I’m sure you’re not. But it never hurts to check.”

“Don’t freak me out. Today is my birthday,” April reminded her, and they both laughed.