Happy Birthday: A Novel

“Thank you, thank you!” she whispered, and threw her arms around his neck. He had done exactly what she had hoped he would do in the beginning. But this was even better. It wasn’t just an objective review of her menu and wine list, it was also written from the heart and explained the philosophy behind it, and he had even let people know when she was planning to reopen. It was the best of all possible worlds. And then she suddenly worried about something as she hugged him and pulled away to look at him. “You didn’t get in trouble for this, when you told them about us, I mean?” Mike shook his head, smiling at her, ecstatic that she was so pleased with it. He had hoped she would be. He owed her that. His earlier review had been unnecessarily bitchy, but the menu had annoyed him, even if he did think she was the sexiest woman who had ever lived. He thought she had taken the easy way out. But she hadn’t. April always took the high road—in everything. She was that kind of woman. Instead of just easy food or hard food, she served people both kinds and wasn’t afraid to do it. He believed every word in his review.

“It’s all true,” he said simply. “Truth is the best defense for anything. April, people all over New York talk about your restaurant. It’s really something to be proud of, and when you open again, it will be even better. This will give you a little time to try new dishes, add some new things to the menu. Consider it maternity leave. Other women take three months off to have a baby, or even six. Enjoy it, play with your menu, watch your dream be reborn again. You have nothing to worry about. And I had nothing to apologize to my editor for, except my first stupid, ignorant, utterly pretentious review. I owed this one to you.” She sat cross-legged on his bed, beaming at him.

“This is the best gift you could have given me,” she said, deeply moved by his generosity and the eloquence of his review.

“No, that is,” he said, pointing at her belly, “and it’s the best one you could have given me, even though I was stupid about that too. When are we getting married, by the way?” he asked with interest.

“What about Memorial Day weekend? That gives my mother two weeks to do it when she gets back. Although knowing her, she could throw it together in five minutes. And it’s a week before my due date.” It was a little tight, but it made sense to her.

“What if the baby comes early?” he asked, looking worried. He really wanted to marry her before the baby came. He thought it was important to do that.

“We’ll bring it to the wedding,” April said simply, and he laughed at her. She was quite a woman. He had realized it when he met her, but then dropped the ball along the way. Fortunately, she hadn’t. April never dropped the ball. She grabbed it and ran with it, in everything she did. Even now after the fire. “How many people do you want at the wedding?” She had forgotten to ask him before, and her mother had emailed her to ask.

“Just me and you. I don’t want my parents, I haven’t seen them in ten years and they’re too drunk to care.” He had never heard from them again since his call. He was ready to let them go forever and his therapist agreed with him, they were a lost cause. He wanted to look forward, not backward, to the life he was going to share with April. “I’d like my friend Jim and his wife. He was a fan of this relationship and the baby even before I was.” They had been to the restaurant twice before the fire and April liked them both very much.

“Can we go on a honeymoon?” she asked, looking like a young girl, and he laughed at her.

“Yeah, at the hospital. You can’t go away now, silly. Why don’t we stay at a hotel for the weekend, and pretend we’re not in New York? Or pretend we are and enjoy it.”

“I’d really like to go to Italy with you,” she said, looking disappointed. They could go to all the restaurants they both knew and loved and talked about.

“Why don’t we go in August, before you reopen?”

“What’ll we do with the baby?” She was planning to nurse, and since she could have it with her at the restaurant for the first months, it wasn’t a problem.

“Take it with us. We can get him used to great food right from the beginning,” he teased her. “Sounds like a plan to me. Now all we have to do is get married, have the baby, and reopen the restaurant.” He made it sound like a snap of the fingers and one, two, three, and April laughed at him.

“I have a feeling none of it will be that easy,” she said, looking worried. “The wedding maybe, thanks to my mother. Getting the restaurant open again is a project, and I’m feeling nervous about getting this thing out of me,” she said, pointing to the basketball on her lap, and he nodded. It looked huge to both of them. She was a tall woman but narrow-framed, and it seemed impossible to believe that anything that enormous could emerge with ease. “Are you still planning to be there?” she asked, sounding anxious. He said he would, but she knew he was scared. If he was not there, she knew Ellen would be.