Happy Birthday: A Novel

They let April go home the next day. The baby was fine, and she wasn’t having any contractions. And her oxygenation was back up to normal levels. She was still hoarse from the smoke, but other than the bandages on her arms, she was fine. Everyone kept telling her how lucky she was, and she knew it too, except for the restaurant.

They went to Mike’s apartment, and he wouldn’t let her go to view the damage on the way. But two days later he couldn’t keep her from it. She stood and sobbed as she surveyed the debris. There was broken glass and water everywhere. They had knocked the plate-glass windows out to get in the hoses. The water had done far more damage than the fire. She didn’t even know where to start fixing the place up. But Ellen’s husband, Larry, came over and met with her. He assessed the damage and promised to line up subcontractors for her. He offered to do the job, and said he was sure they could complete it in three or four months. That meant August 1, or Labor Day, worst case. She said she could live with that, and the insurance money would pay for it. It had been an honest kitchen fire, there was no question of arson. Now she just had to sit it out for the next three months, or four at worst.

She was depressed when she went back to Mike’s apartment, but he kept reminding her that it could have been a lot worse. And with Larry taking care of everything, she knew her restaurant was in good hands. She didn’t know what to do with the employees, but offered to keep them all on. The only one who decided to go back to his old job was Jean-Pierre, but she thought it was the right decision and accepted his resignation with relief. His feelings for her made it too difficult for him, and for her. She was in love with Mike, not Jean-Pierre, no matter what his hopes had been about her. He was a great sommelier, and she was sad to see him go, but it was better that way. She had felt him watching her all the time with longing, and hostility whenever Mike was around.

Mike stayed home with her as much as possible. Her obstetrician had told her to take it easy for a week, so the contractions didn’t start again. And she had nothing to do now anyway. She knew that Larry was meeting with subcontractors for her. And the restaurant had to be cleared of the debris. They weren’t sure yet, but it looked like nothing could be saved.

She was lying in bed, thinking about it one afternoon, aware that Larry was seeing an electrician at the restaurant at three. Mike was at the paper, and she was feeling fine. It seemed stupid to just lie around. She put on jeans and a T-shirt, braided her hair, and left Mike’s apartment. He called her on her cell phone, and she told him she was in bed. She stopped on Third Avenue at a Walgreens to buy some gardening boots, and ten minutes later she got to the restaurant just as Larry and the electrician drove up. She was standing outside, looking mournful. She had brought her keys and unlocked the door. She’d given Larry a second set and he was surprised to see her there. He knew she was supposed to be resting.

“I thought you were home in bed,” he said suspiciously, and then introduced her to the electrician. The three of them walked inside together, and the acrid smell was enough to make all three of them choke. They were standing in eight inches of water. “We’ve got to get this place dried up,” Larry said. The basement, with all her wines, was flooded too. None of the bottles were actually on the ground, but in racks, so presumably they were okay. April made her way down the basement stairs to check, while Larry showed the electrician around. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the wines were safe, and lumbered back up the stairs.

They were standing in the kitchen when her cell phone rang again. It was Mike.

“What are you doing?” he asked casually.

“Nothing,” she said innocently. And just as she said it, there was a tremendous crash in the kitchen, as the electrician pulled some boards away.

“What was that?” Mike asked, sounding worried.

“The TV,” she answered rapidly, as she walked away from the others, so he couldn’t hear their voices.

“There’s something I’ve got to do. I’ll be home a little late,” he said mysteriously.

“That’s fine. I’m just taking it easy here,” she said, climbing over a pile of debris.

“Why do I have the impression that you’re lying to me?” he said, as another board came down. This one made only slightly less noise than the first one. She almost told him the truth about where she was, but didn’t dare.

“Don’t worry so much. Honest, Mike, I’m fine.”

“I don’t trust you,” he said, and she laughed. He was right.