I opened the package to find a can of lavender talcum powder, about the same time I noticed that the wrapping paper had Happy Mother’s Day in pink in the background.
“Patrick?” I said.
“It was going to be for Mom, but I gave her something else instead,” he explained.
“Well, thanks a lot. It smells really nice,” I told him, and sprinkled some on each wrist. I think you’re supposed to put talcum powder on your feet and armpits, but I figured Patrick wouldn’t know the difference.
When Pamela and Elizabeth came for dinner on Saturday, bringing me a shirt and matching socks from the Gap, Pamela sniffed and said, “What are you wearing, Alice? You smell like my grandmother.”
It was a good dinner. Dad brought home some fried chicken and a chocolate layer cake from a bakery, with mint chocolate chip ice cream to go with it, and a gift certificate from Macy’s. I opened a card from Aunt Sally and Uncle Milt, which was an invitation for me and my two best friends to spend a week in Chicago that summer.
“Pamela and Elizabeth, too!” I squealed, and all three of us yelped. “You’ll love it,” I promised, thinking how we could spend some time with my cousin Carol, who has her own apartment, and was even married once to a sailor.
The only thing missing from my celebration was Lester. He didn’t come until the very end, when we were having a second piece of cake. The minute he walked in, I could tell by the way his mouth fell open that he had forgotten all about my birthday, but he tried to fake it.
“Don’t tell me the party’s already begun!” he said, and glanced at his watch. “Holy moly, not seven fifteen! You mean you’re celebrating without me?”
“I believe you know what time we generally eat dinner, Les,” Dad told him.
“He forgot my birthday, as usual,” I said.
“Forget? Me?” Lester pretended to look shocked. “How could I forget your big day?”
“Easy.”
“You think just because I’m not carrying a present I didn’t come prepared?” he went on, as full of baloney as a submarine sandwich. “I’m carrying your present in my head, Al. We’ve got a date, you and I. Your choice. You choose the time and place. Bowling? Movie? McDonald’s? A whole evening just with you.”
I looked at Pamela and Elizabeth. They knew he was full of baloney too, but we weren’t about to let him off the hook.
“I want to go to a play at the Kennedy Center,” I said.
I saw Lester swallow. “You got it,” he said.
“And I hear that the Watergate has some great restaurants,” said Elizabeth.
Lester stared at Elizabeth, then at me.
“That’s it!” I told him. “First dinner at one of the Watergate restaurants, then a play at the Kennedy Center.”
“And then he’s got to take you dancing,” said Pamela.
“Now wait a minute,” said Les.
“That’s it, Lester! That’s my choice, my big night out, my evening just with you! Dinner at the Watergate, a play at the Kennedy Center, and then dancing. It’s wonderful! Thank you so much. One of the nicest presents I ever had,” I told him.
Lester looked at Dad, as though he might get him out of it, but Dad just smiled. “Enjoy,” he said.
“Okay,” said Lester. “When will it be?”
“A week from tonight, or whenever you can get tickets,” I said.
“Wearing your best suit and tie,” added Elizabeth.
“Happy birthday, Alice,” said Pamela. “This could be the start of something big.”
Alice in April Page 12