Page 57 of The Last to Let Go
I almost hang up. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear, that I hung up before she said it. Silence.
“Fuck,” she finally says. “Okay... that was totally idiotic.”
“No, it’s—it’s okay.”
“I shouldn’t have blurted it out over the phone like that.”
“No, it’s okay,” I repeat.
“I mean, Ido. It’s just—I wanted to say it differently.”
It’s like I’m incapable of saying anything else: “It’s okay.”
“Um. All right. Look, do you mind if I hang around here until you get out of work?”
“No. It’s—”
“Okay?” she finishes for me.
I laugh, or try to, anyway. “Yes.”
As I walk home from work, there’s this stillness in the air, like a breath being held. Snow is coming. I can taste it, can smell it, can feel it all around me. I see Dani’s car outside but no Dani. I call her from the street, but she doesn’t answer. I walk down around the corner. Not there, either. My thoughts jumble up and my heart leaps into my throat as a fresh wave of panic settles in my bones. There’s no sign of her. I start imagining something bad happening. She’s way too friendly, too open, too honest—someone could easily lure her into something shady. And then I start to think maybe this means I must love her, too. I call her one last time, then I go inside. I run up the stairs, preparing to enlist Aaron in a manhunt. I hear whispers coming from underneath the door. It’s dark inside as I push it open. My hand glides along the wall, feeling for the light switch, when all the lights are suddenly flipped on at once, accompanied by a chorus of “Surprise!”
I jump back and drop my bag on the floor. Standing at the kitchen table are Aaron, Callie, Jackie, Ray... and Dani. I’m so relieved I want to run to her and throw my arms around her. But then I start to panic all over again, because here she is in my apartment, the place I keep all my secrets, too close to everything I want to keep away from her.
They’re all staring at me, smiling hugely, and wearing these pointed paper-cone hats, and there’s a banner made of shiny metallic letters strung across the ceiling that reads:HAPPY BIRTHDAY BROOKE.
“Oh my God, what is this?” I finally say as the shock dissipates.
“Surprise!” Jackie repeats, throwing her arms wide open as she steps aside and reveals this gigantic square cake sitting on the table behind them, lit with what appears to be a hundred candles that flash and pop like Fourth of July sparklers. “I know, I know, we’re a few days early—but hey, that’s the surprise, right?”
Dani croons, “Surprise,” her voice smooth and gorgeous. She pulls me in for a hug and whispers in my ear: “Happy birthday, liar.” When she lets go of me, she’s smirking.
“I can’t believe you guys did this.” I figured we’d all made a silent agreement that we were going to skip my birthday this year, considering the circumstances. I barely remembered it myself.
“We all need something to celebrate right now, and what’s better to celebrate than you, my dear?” Jackie pulls me by the hands closer to where the cake waits, awash in the glow of frantic sparkling light. “Now, hurry—hurry before the wax drips!”
As if that’s their cue, they all begin singing at the same time.
I really have no choice but to step forward and blow out the candles. Make a wish. It comes to me, not even a thought, a flash of a thought, a feeling. I wish for more of this—this—what’s happening right now, whatever this is. I blow as hard as I can to make sure I extinguish all seventeen candles in one shot. Otherwise my wish won’t come true—at least, that’s what Aaron told me when we were little. That last candle flickers, fighting it off, but then finally it forfeits. And they all begin clapping. I look up at their faces, each of them watching me, smiling like they’re truly happy, like they’re all having fun somehow.
Jackie makes Ray take about twenty million pictures of the cake, and of me and Aaron and Callie standing there with our arms draped over one another’s shoulders. Then one of me and Dani—our first picture together.
Jackie made the cake. I’ve only ever had birthday cakes that came out of a box, where all you need to do is add a few ingredients and top it with a can of frosting. This one is special—it is flawlessly decorated with ribbon-like ornamentation along the edges, billowing flower shapes, and red cursive that spells outHAPPY BIRTHDAY BROOKE!surrounded by little birthday balloons and frosting roses.
“Happy birthday,” Aaron says, smiling at me as if we’ve never had a fight in our lives.
“Surprise,” Callie whispers in my ear as she hugs me.
“I hope everyone likes cream cheese frosting,” Jackie says as she plunges a knife into the cake, dividing it into perfectly symmetrical squares. “And there’s a layer of ganache in the center. I hope you like it.”
I’m not sure I even know what ganache is, completely, but I tell her, “It’s my favorite,” and I mean it. I can smell the sugar, taste it in my mouth before I even take the first bite.
Never having had anyone around—no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no grandparents—I always felt like the Winters began and ended with us. Something about that made the world feel small. Too small sometimes. For a moment I wish Caroline were here too. I wonder if this is what it feels like when people talk about family. Is it like this? How it almost feels like things will work out, like things will somehow be all right after all, in spite of everything?
As we eat our cake, I look out the living room windows. We all see it at the same time. The snow. I kneel on the sofa to get a better look, and Dani scoots right next to me, her fingers grazing mine, a volt of electricity flowing between us, our breath fogging up the window as if it were one breath we were sharing. Everyone watches for a moment as the snowflakes fall slowly, weightlessly, like tiny white feathers from the sky.
“Sure is pretty,” Jackie says with a sigh.
