Birthday Girl

by Penelope Douglas

  I’m tempted to see if he wants to come and get me after all, since he’s awake, but my pride won’t let me. I don’t want to be a problem. And I definitely don’t want to be responsible for making waves between him and Cole. I can fight my own battles.

  “Yeah. Everything’s cool,” I lie, adding some tease to my voice. “I’m not a kid, you know?”

  “You kind of are.”

  I snort. Well, kid or not, I guess it’s nice to have someone looking out for me.

  “Did you call Cole, too?” I ask.

  But he doesn’t answer. Instead I hear a loud slam and some shuffling. “Shit,” he barks.

  My eyes open wide, alert. “What’s the matter?”

  “The damn microwave doesn’t work right,” he growls. “I knew I shouldn’t have replaced it just to match the other new appliances, dammit. It won’t pop popcorn.”

  I narrow my eyes, but I want to laugh so badly. He gets so worked up. “There’s a Popcorn button,” I remind him.

  “I pushed it!”

  “Twice?”

  “Why would I have to push it twice?” he retorts like I’m stupid.

  “Because the size of the bags you use take three-point-five minutes of cooking,” I point out.

  “I know that.”

  “Well, on your new microwave, pushing it down once only gives it two minutes of cooking. For the smaller bags,” I clarify. “You need to push it down twice to get the right time.”

  There’s silence and then I hear a mumbled, “Oh.”

  I press my lips together to keep from laughing. His random helplessness is pretty amusing. I wish I was there.

  “Well,” he says after a short silence, “I guess I’ll let you go then.”

  “Hey, wait,” I say, stopping him.

  I pause, unsure of how to word this.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something?” I finally say.

  “No, I guess not.”

  I wet my lips, hesitating. I don’t want to offend him, but I’m curious.

  “Where’s all your stuff in the house?” I ask.

  “Huh?”

  I inhale a deep breath, forging on. “There’s furniture but not much else. It doesn’t look like you live there. Why?”

  The other end of the phone is silent, and I stop breathing, afraid I’ll miss him speak.

  Was the question insulting? I didn’t mean it to be. I just realized he knows so much about me, and I hardly know anything about him. He knows who my parents are, what happened to Cole’s and my friend, that I love 80s stuff, I grew up without a mom, what I study in college…

  But he’s still such a mystery.

  “I’m sorry if that sounded bad,” I tell him when he doesn’t answer. “It’s a beautiful home. It’s just that Cole mentioned that you and his mom met in high school where you were kind of a baseball star. You must love the sport. I’m just curious why I don’t see trophies or pictures or anything like that in the house. There’s no recent photos of you and Cole, either, no music, no books… Nothing that describes you or what you like.”

  He draws in a breath, clearing his throat, and a cool sweat travels up my neck.

  “It’s all packed in the basement,” he tells me. “I guess I just never dug it out after I moved into the house.”

  “How long have you been in that house?”

  “Uh….” He trails off as if thinking. “I guess I bought it ten years ago.”

  Ten years?

  “Pike…” I say, trying not to snicker.

  He breathes out a laugh in my ear, and I smile, shaking my head.

  “Guess it sounds weird, huh?” he asks.

  That you still haven’t unpacked everything? Yeah.

  I flip onto my back, keeping my arm tucked under my head. “I understand we do away with certain things as we get older,” I tell him. “But you’ve had a life since you moved into that place, haven’t you? I don’t see anything of your personality. Places you’ve visited, trinkets you’ve picked up over the years…”

  “Yeah, I know, I uh…”

  He hesitates again, letting out a sigh, and the sound of his breath vibrates across my ear, sending tingles down my spine.

  I wish I could see his face. It’s so hard to read him over the phone. All I can picture is the way he drops his eyes sometimes, like he doesn’t want someone to know what he’s feeling, or the way he nods like maybe he’s afraid of what he’ll say if he speaks.

  He finally continues. “Cole became more important,” he admits. “Somewhere along the way, who I was and what I wanted became irrelevant.”

  I kind of understand. When you have kids, your hopes transfer to them. Your life takes a backseat to what they need. I get it.

  But Cole is an adult now, and Pike has been on his own for a while. What does he do when he’s not at work?

  “I’d love to see some of the stuff,” I broach. “If you ever want to unpack it, I’ll help.”

  “Nah, that’s okay.”

  I knit my brow at how quickly he shoots me down.

  “You mean I can’t even see old yearbooks and if you and Cole were twinsies at the same age?” I tease.

  He lets out a quiet chuckle. “God, no. Back when the only important thing I had to do was my hair?”

  I grin, but of course, he can’t see it. Was he a one-girl kind of guy back in high school, or did he have lots like Cole did before me?

  I remember what Cole said about his father cheating on his mom, but for some reason it doesn’t ring true.

  “The truth is, Jordan,” he says, “when you’re young, you can be really stupid. I don’t care to remember that time in my life. I want to move on.”

  But you’re not moving at all, by the looks of it.

  “You need some spice in your life,” I jab at him. “You should get a woman.”

  “Yeah, and you should get back to your friends now,” he retorts.

  I laugh. “Oh, come on.”

  “What makes you think I don’t already have a woman, Jordan?”

  His voice taunts, and I can feel it all the way down to my toes.

  My mouth goes dry. “Do you?” I ask.

  I mean, I was just joking. Wouldn’t it be awkward to have two women walking around the house? I already have my chores down, and I do most of the cooking. That butcher block island and I have a relationship now. I might get a little jealous if another woman touches it.

  “You haven’t known me long,” he plays. “My needs do have to be taken care of once in a while. I am human, after all.”

  My stomach flips, and I shoot my eyebrows up. His needs?

  An image of what he looks like when he has to get those needs met flashes through my mind. I push them away.

  Umm, yeah. Okay.

  All of a sudden, he laughs. “I’m kidding,” he says. “Yes, I do go out from time to time, but I’m not seeing anyone now. You don’t have to worry about running into some woman you don’t know in the house.”

  “Or women,” I say. “Right?”

  He scoffs, and I can just picture his face. “Do you honestly see me being able to juggle more than one female? Ever?”

  “No, you like your me-time.”

  “Exactly.”

  My heart warms, and I knew I was right. Cole’s mom fed him bullshit to turn her son against his father.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something about Cole, but if Pike confronts him about the lies his mom probably told, Cole will see it as me betraying his trust. And it might embarrass Pike. They’re not my family. It’s not my place.

  A yawn stretches my face, and I let out a little moan, my eyes growing heavier.

  “Well, I guess I’ll let you go,” Pike says. “You both have fun, okay? Be safe.”

  “We will.” My lids fall closed, his voice lingering in my ear. “And remember,” I tell him. “Push the button down twice.”

  He snorts. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Later,” I say.

  He pauses a moment before replying
. “Goodnight, Jordan.”

  He hangs up, and I set my phone down, yawning again and not bothering to turn my box fan app back on.

  A smile still curls the corners of my lips. How can a thirty-eight year old man not know how to make microwave popcorn? It’s literally idiot-proof.

  I chuckle, my lids resting heavy and sleepy as I forget about Jay and Cole and how uncomfortable this pool table is or how exhausted I’ll probably be tomorrow. Pike drifts through my mind and everything he said and how deep his voice was when he told me “goodnight Jordan” and how it made goosebumps spread up my arms.

  And how this is the third night this week he’s been the last person I speak to before I fall asleep at night.

  Pike

  The next morning, I’m surprised to see I’m the first one up. Jordan is usually moving about, showering, or working on her laptop before I’m even downstairs, but the house seems empty. I open the front door and notice Cole’s car isn’t in the driveway, either.

  It’s Sunday morning. He wouldn’t be up already. Did they not come home then?

  I go about my business, carrying on with my morning, but as it reaches ten, I want to get going on the main bathroom, tearing out the old tub and prying up the floor tiles, but it’s going to be a lot of noise. I knock on Jordan and Cole’s door to make sure they’re not in there.

  No one answers, and I crack open the door to see the bed still made and the bedroom empty. I guess they must’ve crashed at a friend’s last night. I close it again and get to work.

  “Hey,” Cole says as he walks into the kitchen an hour later.

  I shut the fridge, clutching a soda, and turn toward him as he tosses his keys on the counter. He looks haggard, his hair matted and his eyes red.

  “Hey.” I gesture to the cabinet to the left. “The aspirin’s in there. Get yourself some water and a shower. You can help me with the bathroom.”

  He nods, but he looks like he’s two seconds from vomiting. His skin is a sallow green, and I actually feel sorry for him. I don’t miss that feeling.

  “You’re drinking a lot,” I say.

  He ignores me, shuffling toward the cabinet and pouring himself some aspirin.

  I press further. “You’re drinking too much.”

  He still says nothing, but his jaw flexes, telling me he heard me.

  I wish he’d talk to me. Even fight with me, because it’s better than nothing. I want to hear about his job and his life. About the friend he lost. I shouldn’t have learned something like that through Jordan.

  I should’ve pushed harder when he started to shut me out. So much harder.

  But I know who I really have to blame for the wedge between us.

  “I was good to your mother,” I tell him.

  He sniffles, taking another huge gulp of water and still not looking at me.

  He’ll believe her. He’s not ready to hear me yet. But I’m still saying it.

  “I worked hard, I supported you both, and I was faithful.” I rise from the seat and look down at him. “You can ask me questions. I won’t lie.”

  But he just shakes his head, finishing off the glass and setting it down. “I gotta get a shower.”

  He turns to walk away, but I’m not done yet.

  “Have I ever not done something you asked me to do?” I ask him.

  He stops but doesn’t turn.

  Anytime he needed money, I gave it to him. Anytime he needed a ride, I was there. Whenever he wanted to go somewhere or see something or take a karate class or just be with me, I was always there for him. Pain stretches through my chest as I stare at his back.

  I was a good father. When he wanted me around.

  “Have you ever caught me in a lie?” I go on.

  A lie she didn’t teach him to believe, that is?

  He looks over his shoulder at me, and I can see the struggle in his eyes. He wants to be angry at something or someone, and I was that target for a long time, but now he’s not sure why anymore. He has to start seeing who his mother is and what she does to people. He needs to stop letting her do it to him.

  “I’m here,” I say. “Okay?”

  I hear him breathe, the rise and fall of his chest heavy, and finally he nods, still looking hesitant, but it’s something.

  Then he turns and walks out of the room, toward the stairs, but I suddenly glance at the front door again, something occurring to me.

  “Where’s Jordan?” I call, walking into the living room.

  He’s halfway up the stairs but looks over at me again and shakes his head, still not speaking.

  “Didn’t you pick her up from work last night?” I question. “Weren’t you both together?”

  “No.” He yawns and rubs his hand through his hair. “I’d had too much to drink, so I sent one of my buddies to pick her up and bring her home. She probably went out for a run, and you just missed her.”

  I stand there, trying to piece together my conversation with her last night as Cole trails upstairs.

  So when I spoke to her last night, she wasn’t with Cole. Wasn’t with him at all.

  And she hasn’t been home. Their bed is still made.

  Cole heads upstairs, and I shout after him, just remembering. “Use my bathroom!”

  I’ll be working on theirs for a little while longer, and the master bathroom has the only other shower in the house.

  I move back into the kitchen, still thinking.

  Why would she lie about that? If she stayed with a friend, her sister, whatever…it’s fine. But she let me believe she and Cole were together, which is why I called—to make sure they both were okay.

  I sent one of my buddies to pick her up and bring her home.

  Yeah, your buddy didn’t bring her home. I have a half a mind to be worried, but she lied for a reason.

  And despite how much I like Jordan, I can’t help the old feelings curling through my gut that I haven’t felt for a very long time. I don’t like being lied to.

  Especially by women.

  An hour later, I walk into Grounders and already see a lunch crowd filling the high-top tables and bar. A couple servers dressed in their jeans, tight shirts, and little aprons carry plates to bikers pit-stopping during their Sunday runs and hunters coming in from their early morning jaunts. The bar is filled with old-timers who look like they slept in their clothes last night, and the dank fluorescent lighting makes everything look dirty despite the smell of Pine-Sol stinging my nostrils.

  The soles of my work boots stick to the floor with every step I take across the room. I’ve never understood the appeal of this place or why it’s lasted so long.

  I spot Jordan at the other end of the bar, her fist covered with a white towel and buried in a drinking glass as she dries it. I wasn’t sure she’d be here, but when she’s not at the house, this is where she is.

  She’s still in the same clothes I saw her leave in last night, and a yawn stretches across her face. Her hair is bound in a high ponytail, and her lips are rosy with a hint of lipstick.

  She was pretty yesterday. This morning, my suspicion is blurring everything. All of a sudden, I’m twenty again and wondering where Cole’s mother was all night.

  But Jordan’s not like that. She’s a good girl.

  It just doesn’t make any sense she’d say she was with Cole when she wasn’t.

  Unless she was up to something she shouldn’t have been.

  I don’t want Cole to go through that with Jordan. Not like I did with his mother. What if he gets her pregnant and gets stuck dealing with a person like that? I don’t want him to be fucking alone forever, because he thinks he wasn’t enough for her.

  I force my breathing to calm down. I’m jumping to conclusions. Relax.

  She sees me approach, and her eyes light up a little. She opens her mouth to say something, but I speak first.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “Did you have a good night?”

  She cocks her head, faltering a little. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  So nothi
ng bad happened then. She’s in one piece and seems happy enough.

  “Did you and Cole have fun?” I press, my pulse starting to race.

  She drops her head, avoiding my eyes as she sticks the glass under the bar. “Yeah.” She nods.

  And I flex my jaw, my temper rising. She just lied again.

  “Yeah, Cole seems to think he never picked you up.” I plant my hands on the bar and lean in. “He says one of his friends picked you up, but he didn’t see you the rest of the night, and you didn’t come home.”

  She stares at me, a blush crossing her cheeks. “Um…Yeah, it…I… I was…”

  She stammers, flustered, and I stand there waiting for the easy, simple explanation I know will come, but…

  It doesn’t.

  She opens her mouth to say something again, but then closes it, a slight wince in her eyes like she knows she’s been caught.

  I even out my tone, trying to sound calm. “Where were you all night, Jordan?”

  Her gaze flashes everywhere but on me, her shoulders tense, and her breathing gets heavier. She can answer the question. She just doesn’t want to.

  “Jordan?”

  “Is Cole home now?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’re both fine. The rest isn’t your concern,” she states.

  I narrow my gaze on her. “And my house isn’t a hotel, little girl.”

  She could’ve stayed with her sister or a friend, but why lie about that? She’s hiding something.

  She lifts her chin, continuing, “Where I slept last night is between Cole and me.”

  I keep my face straight, but all that floods my head are the images of a very young and stupid me catching my girlfriend screwing some guy in a car in front of our apartment at three in the morning. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck…

  Yeah.

  I push off the bar and cross my arms over my chest. “I honestly don’t care what you do, Jordan,” I tell her, my heart slowly icing over, “but I’m not stupid, either. Cole may be distracted, but I’m not. Whoever picked you up last night didn’t bring you home, so if you’re screwing around on my son, I’ll take offense to that,” I warn her. “And then I’ll ask you to leave my goddamn house. I’m not paying to support someone like that. You understand? Don’t you ever lie to me again.”