Happy Birthday: A Novel

“It’ll be even better than before,” he promised, and he assured her again that it could be done in the time that he’d allowed. “I know you,” he teased her, “you’ll have the baby, put the restaurant back together, run for mayor, and open in the Hamptons in July. Maybe this would be a good time to look into that second restaurant you want, April. You can check out locations and see what’s around.”

“I just want to get this one going again,” she said, looking anxious. Her mother called on her cell phone while she was talking to him, and she told her where she was.

“Aren’t you supposed to be home in bed?” She was upset to hear what April was doing.

“Yeah. Sort of,” she admitted, “but it’s driving me crazy. We’ve got so much work to do, and I wanted to hear what the electrician said. He says it’s going to be okay.”

“Yes, but you and the baby won’t be if you don’t stay home and rest.” She sounded like Mike, and April knew they were right. But it was too much to ask of her to stay away, with all of this going on.

“I won’t do anything stupid, Mom. I promise. And I feel fine.” She was still a little hoarse from the smoke inhalation, but otherwise she was okay, and she felt strong. And the baby was kicking her mightily again. In spite of the trauma she’d been through, her belly had grown again. She really did look now like she had a basketball under her shirt. The rest of her looked no different than before. Her constant moving around and hard work at the restaurant had kept her in shape.

When April asked, Valerie said she was having fun in Europe with Jack, and a few minutes later, April went to find Larry, who was studying the damage in the kitchen. None of their equipment could be saved. The hoses had finished off whatever the fire hadn’t.

“I’m going to get the place cleared out by next week,” he told her. He had looked at everything and already had a plan. “Then we’ve got to get it dry. You’d better start looking at new equipment. It’s going to take time to find everything you want.” She nodded. She had already been through it when she set April in New York up the first time. This time would be harder, because they had so much damage to undo first. But Larry promised her they would be fast. He was meeting several more contractors there the next day. April promised to come in. He hadn’t let her move anything heavy, but just being there in the heavy smell of smoke in the aftermath had made her feel a little sick.

She thanked Larry, they locked up, and she took a cab back to Mike’s apartment. She was lying innocently on the bed when he got home at eight o’clock that night. She had washed her hair and scrubbed herself to get the smell of smoke off her, and added a dash of his aftershave. She had almost nothing at his apartment, everything she owned was still in the apartment above the restaurant, and most of that was going to have to be thrown away too. It reeked of smoke. She knew her mother would be thrilled to see the Goodwill furniture go.

Mike smiled at her as he walked into the bedroom, and bent down to give her a kiss. He instantly made a face. “You stink!”

“I beg your pardon?” she said, looking insulted. “That’s your aftershave I’m wearing.”

“You smell like Smokey the Bear. Don’t tell me you’ve been in bed all day,” he said, scolding her. But he had guessed it anyway. He would have had to tie her down to keep her away from the restaurant.

“I’m sorry.” She looked at him apologetically. “I just can’t not be there, Mike. There are so many decisions to make.”

“So what did Larry say?” he asked, as he sat down in a chair next to the bed.

“He still thinks we’re on track for Labor Day, and we met with the electrician. He’s going to give me all new panels in a different location that’ll work better for us, and give us more voltage. He says it’s safer.” It hadn’t been an electrical fire, but it could have been, and that would have been worse. April brought him up-to-date on everything that had happened, and told him she had checked her wines and they were safe. And when she finished, he tossed some papers at her. She caught them in midair. “What’s that?”

“Read it. See what you think. It’s for Sunday’s paper.” She knew that was the most important day to run the restaurant reviews he wrote. There were three pages printed out from his computer, which she knew was a column that would run the full length of the page. Sometimes he used his column to cover two restaurants, but when he loved it or thought it warranted the space, he would write about only one. “I made full disclosure to my editor about our relationship. He got clearance from the editor in chief. It’s all aboveboard.”