Happy Birthday: A Novel

“I’m just glad you’re okay. That was one hell of a day,” Mike said with obvious sympathy, and then shook hands with Pat and Maddie, who greeted him warmly, and he said hi to the girls. April had seated him between herself and Annie. She thought it might be too intense to seat him next to either of her parents, who might not be able to resist asking him pointed questions, in spite of her request. But Mike seemed totally comfortable in their midst. They were kind people and put him at ease.

He talked to Annie about MIT, and Heather about the colleges she had applied to. He got into an interesting discussion with her father about medieval history, which Mike seemed to know a lot about, and he and her mother chatted amiably, and he spoke to Maddie on several topics, and everyone teased him when his pancakes arrived instead of the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding they were all eating. And he liked his pancakes so much that he ordered a second stack and ate them all. And as usual, the wines Jean-Pierre picked out for them were excellent. By the end of dinner, everyone was in high spirits, and Mike decided to have one of her Yule logs and ate all of that as well. He had made a total pig of himself, and thought her family were the nicest people he’d ever met. Her father even scolded him for the bad review he’d given the restaurant, and Mike admitted that he was deeply embarrassed about it.

“I was a total jerk,” he confessed readily. “I just didn’t get what she was doing. I could tell what a great chef she is, and how well trained, from her CV, and I thought she was underachieving. Instead her idea is sheer genius. Look at what I just ate.” He had waved at the crumbs of the pancakes dripping in maple syrup as he said it. It had been all he had craved for dinner, and he admitted that her mashed potatoes and white truffle pasta were the best in the world. “I’ll make it up to her one day,” Mike promised her father, who looked mollified as they drank champagne with dessert. Some of them ate her Yule logs, and the others had plum pudding, delicately lit. And both girls ordered s’mores.

Jean-Pierre offered her father a glass of cognac after dinner, and Mike accepted one too. The two men got along much better than April had expected, and her mother put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her and whispered “I like him,” and April whispered back, “Me too.” And when he went to the bathroom, both of her sisters agreed that he was cute. That didn’t mean that they’d wind up together, but at least her judgment hadn’t been totally off when she’d gone to bed with him, it had just been premature.

The entire group left the restaurant after midnight, and they weren’t the last to leave. Mike thanked them all for allowing him to join them, and he didn’t say it, but it had been the best Christmas Eve of his life. He liked them all. And before Valerie got into a cab, April told her mother that Jack Adams was coming to dinner the day after Christmas, so he must be doing all right.

“I know.” Valerie smiled at her daughter. “I’m having dinner with him here. He called me today. He’s still on crutches, but he says he’s feeling fine. He attributes it to your mashed potatoes and meat loaf.” She laughed, and April looked surprised.

“He invited you to dinner? That’s nice of him.” She didn’t tell her mother that he usually showed up with girls half his age or younger. The two were obviously becoming friends after he rescued her from the terrorists. Once everyone had gotten into cabs, April went back inside. Everything was under control in the kitchen, so she went upstairs.

Mike called her on her cell phone just as she was getting into bed. He sounded relaxed and happy, not like a Grinch at all.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening. And I think your family is great. Everyone was really sweet to me, and they didn’t have to be. They could have been really pissed.”

“They’re not. And they liked you too,” she said honestly. “Heather thinks you’re ‘hot,’ ” she said, and he laughed out loud.

“I think your mom is ‘hot.’ She looks incredible.” He suspected she’d had a little help, but the results were great. She looked fifteen years younger than she was. And he liked Pat and Maddie too. He liked them all. They were intelligent, interesting, loving to one another, and they obviously had a great time together. It was easy to see why April loved them as much as she did, and they just as clearly loved her. And they had warmly welcomed him into their midst. “Would you like to have dinner one of these days?” he asked out of the blue, and April was surprised. “The only problem is that yours has become my favorite restaurant, so I don’t know where we’d go. Do you like Chinese?”

“I love it,” she said, sounding delighted.

“I’ll figure something out. Or maybe Thai. We’ll see. How about next week?”

“Anytime you like.”

“Perfect. Good night, April. Merry Christmas,” he said, and meant it for the first time in years.