Happy Birthday: A Novel

“Thank you, everybody, for your support. I love you,” she said softly, looking at each of them gratefully. And a little while later they left, and she went out to the kitchen to see what was happening there as the dishwashers cleaned up. It had been a beautiful Thanksgiving for her, and her unexpected announcement had gone over surprisingly well. Her father had been wonderful, her stepmother as loving as ever, Valerie seemed to be adjusting to the idea a little, as long as no one called her “grandmother,” and both of her sisters had promised to help. She couldn’t ask for more than that. And with a sigh, she finally took off her apron and went upstairs. She was exhausted and felt emotionally drained as she fell into bed. She had a lot to be grateful for, she knew, her family, the restaurant, and now this baby, which was a mixed blessing of sorts, but maybe it would work out for the best. She hoped so, as she closed her eyes and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. It had been a long and important day for her.

Chapter 6

April woke up early the day after Thanksgiving. She sat in the kitchen, drinking a bowl of café au lait. No one had come in yet, and she had the restaurant to herself, which was rare. The staff had left everything in good order the night before, and the tables were already set for lunch. She was thinking about what her father had said and his loving toast. And she finally made the decision she had been wrestling with for weeks. She went upstairs to her office and looked for the number he had given her when he called about reviewing the restaurant. She had his office number and a cell phone. She called Mike, and he answered on the second ring. His voice was deep and sexy, but he didn’t sound happy to hear from her when she said who she was. It wasn’t an encouraging beginning, but she decided to get it over with anyway. She didn’t want to tell him on the phone, but he had a right to know, so she invited him to dinner at the restaurant, and he instantly sounded hesitant and almost stern.

“It’s too soon for me to write another review,” he warned her, and then his voice softened a little. “I’m sorry about the one I wrote. I just think you could reach higher than you are.” He could tell from the dishes she had prepared that her skills were worthy of a much more important restaurant, and he knew from her CV that she had worked in some. Other than the selection of delicacies on the menu, he had no idea why she wanted to serve food that anyone could make at home. He had missed the whole point of April in New York, but April no longer cared. She didn’t want another review, or a better one, she only wanted to tell him about their child. And if they never saw each other again after that, that was fine with her too. She had no illusions about having a relationship with him, since he had never called her. And she didn’t need anything from him, nor did her child. She had her family’s support now, and she could take care of herself and a baby, hopefully. Knowing that made it easier to call him, no matter what he thought her motivations were. They were very different than he thought.

“The restaurant seems to work,” she said casually, not wanting to get into it with him. They had entirely different points of view, and she could tell from other reviews of his she’d read that he was a snob about food. She wasn’t. “People like it, and this is what I always wanted to do. A restaurant like this was my dream. It’s not for everyone, I guess, but it works for us. And I wasn’t calling for another review,” she corrected him. “How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked, sounding pleasant.

“I don’t do holidays. And I hate turkey anyway.” They weren’t off to a very good start. And then he sounded awkward for a moment as he broached another subject, one that they were both uncomfortable about. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you after that night. It was great, but I figured you’d be mad at me once you read the review, so I didn’t call. It’s a little strange writing a harsh review about a restaurant, and then inviting the owner out. I had a really good time though, and I’m sorry if I was rude not calling afterward.” At least he knew enough to be embarrassed about it, and to acknowledge that the review was harsh. He wasn’t totally without manners or brains, even if he didn’t have a heart, which seemed to be the case. He sounded chilly on the phone.

“Don’t worry about it,” April said easily. “I just wondered if you’d like to come to dinner. It’s not a date, and I’m not trying to butter you up, or ply you with wines this time.” They both laughed at her admission.