Happy Birthday: A Novel

“They’re not going to tell you their secrets,” Mike said with a grin. He was glad that she had liked the food so much.

“Tell the truth,” she said to him over delicate green tea ice cream. “Isn’t this more fun than reporting from war zones?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, “but only when the food is this good. You don’t know how many bad meals I eat, while writing reviews. A lot of chefs have no imagination, and their food is just no good.”

“Is that what you thought when you gave me the bad review?” she asked with a wistful look. He was still embarrassed about it, and hoped to make it up to her one day.

“No, I thought the food was terrific, but I thought you weren’t trying hard enough with the menu. You made a convert of me with the pancakes on Christmas Eve, and even before that. I dream about your mashed potatoes now, and I even love your mac and cheese.” She had made him try a mouthful of both on Christmas Eve.

“I have to admit, they’re not as good as this. I’ve always wanted to go to China, and take a serious class on how to do their food.” There were so many things she still wanted to do. But her life was about to become infinitely more complicated in June. She wasn’t going to be traveling anywhere anytime soon.

They were leaving the restaurant when she cautiously asked him a question, wondering even before she said it if it was a mistake.

“I’m going to the doctor tomorrow for my four-month visit. Any chance you want to come see it on the sonogram or listen to the heartbeat? My feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask, if it’s something you want to do.” They both knew he didn’t, but she asked him so nicely that he suddenly thought he should. He felt as though it weren’t his baby, only hers. He had no relation to it. It was still hard for him to believe that it even existed. It was hers but not yet his, and maybe it never would be. He could see now just the slightest roundness of her stomach. But the baggy sweaters she wore when she wasn’t working, and her chef’s jacket and apron at the restaurant, hid it most of the time. But he knew it was there, just waiting to destroy his life forever.

“Sure. Maybe. What time are you going?” he asked vaguely, looking uncomfortable as he said it.

“Four o’clock.” She told him where the doctor’s office was, and he nodded. He could do that, he told himself, it was no big deal. How much damage could one visit do?

“I can meet you there,” he confirmed, and she looked up at him with a gentle smile that made his heart ache, and he didn’t know how to tell her that he was afraid of what he’d see and how real it would make the baby seem to him after that. What if the baby turned out to be like him, whom his parents had blamed for everything, or his brother, who couldn’t face their constant fights and accusations, and killed himself at fifteen instead? Things like that didn’t show on a sonogram and were more devastating than deformities or anomalies. And if he let this child into his life, and her with it, would they break his heart, or find him inadequate later? He couldn’t take the chance. With a family like hers, she had no concept of the kind of childhood he’d had. And what if he was as bad as his own parents? That would be even worse. What if bad parenting was hereditary, locked somewhere in his genes? She had three solid role models to draw from, and Mike knew he had none.

He took her back to her apartment over the restaurant, and remembered all too easily what had happened there four months before. There were moments like tonight when he was tempted to reach out to her again, and do it right this time, because he cared about her and respected her, not because of the wine. But he thought it was too late for a fresh start. His baby was already growing in her belly. He had done enough damage. They had both made a terrible mistake. He didn’t want to make another one by starting with her all over again. He kissed her on the forehead, and left her on the stairs to her apartment. He seemed overwhelmed with sadness when he left. She wondered if he’d actually show up at the doctor’s appointment the next day. But at least now they were slowly becoming friends. She had thoroughly enjoyed her evening with him.

She saw Ellen for acupuncture the next morning, who commented that the baby was turning into a good-sized bump. Neither of them could guess what sex it was, although Ellen said she might be able to tell from her pulses later on. April said she hoped it was going to be a girl. If she was going to be alone with it, a girl would be easier for her. Mike had stated no preference, since he didn’t want the baby at all.