Happy Birthday: A Novel

“That’s how I felt about it,” she confessed. “Like at eighty. I wanted to tell you, Jack. I really did. And I almost did a couple of times, but I just couldn’t get the words out. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m going to be a grandmother in June.’ Shit, that sounds so awful when you’re trying to be young and sexy.”

“You are young and sexy!” he reassured her.

“Not like the girl tonight,” Valerie said sadly. “That’s what young and sexy looks like.” Valerie felt ancient when she saw her.

“No,” he corrected her. “That’s what crazy looks like. She was a lunatic. She’s probably on drugs. She was as high as a kite when I went out with her, and I couldn’t wait to get rid of her and never see her again. That’s exactly what I don’t want, and everything I wanted to get away from. Now I have, and I thank my lucky stars every day that I’m with you and not girls like that anymore. I felt stupid and I was bored, and I had nothing better to do. It was all about my ego. Everything I feel for you is about my heart, and the rest of me,” he said with a mischievous grin. And as soon as they walked into her apartment, he proved it to her. He scooped her up in his arms and walked into her bedroom.

“Put me down, you’ll hurt your back! That’s not good for your leg!” she kept insisting, and he only laughed at her.

“To hell with my leg and my back! Are you telling me I’m old?”

“No,” she said as he dumped her on the bed and fell on top of her. “I’m telling you that I love you.”

“Good, because I love you too. Now enough about this crap about how old we are. It’s Valentine’s Day and I want to make love to you. Take your clothes off,” he said, as he tugged them off her. She was laughing, and it all seemed silly suddenly, her reaction to telling him about April’s baby, and the girl in the restaurant. None of it mattered. Only they did. And with that he made love to her as though they were both eighteen years old. They had been brave enough to open the right door, and lucky enough to find each other.

Chapter 16

Two weeks after Valentine’s Day, April was standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, signing for the delivery of the new dishwasher she’d had to buy. She had her apron off and there was no hiding it anymore. Everybody knew she was pregnant. She hadn’t told anyone who the father was except Ellen and her parents. And it was clear to her entire staff that she was facing it alone. They were being very nice to her, and helping her whenever possible. Two of her older waitresses in particular were being very motherly to her and said they wanted to give her a shower for the baby. Others were offering to lend her equipment she would need, and Jean-Pierre brought tears to her eyes when he gave her an antique cradle for the baby that he had found at a garage sale. It still didn’t seem real to her, although the baby kicked her constantly. But she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a child of her own once it was born. Most of the time, she tried not to think about it, and just went on about her work and running her business. She was exactly six months pregnant.

She was walking back into the restaurant, with her head down, following the men carrying the dishwasher, when someone behind her touched her shoulder, and she turned around and found herself looking up at Mike. He looked very serious and very somber as he tried not to look at her stomach, but he had been shocked by its size when he saw her. She looked to him as though she were about to have the baby, which he knew she wasn’t. But her belly was huge now. It had popped out in the last month, and all pretense of hiding it was over. She was a very obviously pregnant woman.

She looked at Mike uncomfortably and had no idea what he was doing there, and he seemed as though he didn’t know either.

“Hi” was all he said for the first minute. And then “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she said noncommittally. “How are you?” She hadn’t seen him in more than two months, since the fatal day at the doctor’s when he had walked out and told her he just couldn’t do it. She hadn’t heard a word from him since, and hadn’t called him. She respected his right not to participate if that was how he felt about it. She had given him that option right from the beginning, when she told him.

“I’ve been all right. I’ve been thinking about you. Could we take a walk for a minute?” She nodded, and knew the others would deal with the dishwasher. Jean-Pierre was in the kitchen, and he had become more than just a sommelier. He did a lot of extra odd jobs to help her, and he scowled the moment he saw Mike and didn’t say hello. She and Mike started walking around the block together. She didn’t want the others to see her with him or listen to them talking. No men ever came to see her, and she didn’t want anyone to guess that he was the father of the baby, although Jean-Pierre had already guessed. But no one else had.