Eliza
“So then I slapped him!” Peggy slurred, swinging her hand animatedly and very nearly catching a streamer in the process. Angelica shook her head, chuckling, and Eliza forced a polite smile. Vindicated by her sisters’ reactions to her method of dealing with some asshole at a bar, she sat up a bit straighter, a haughty set to her shoulders. Eliza yawned.
“You can’t be tired yet, ‘Liza,” Angelica said, eyebrow raised. “It’s eight at night on your 21st birthday.” Eliza shrugged.
“My boys ran me around the city earlier,” Eliza responded, yawning again. “I barely made it here on time.” Angelica frowned, before rising to put away the cake.
“Fine, but brunch is happening tomorrow.” She turned towards Peggy. “And no begging off because you’re hungover.” Peggy scowled and finished Eliza’s water. Eliza stood and stretched.
“Come on, Pegs, let’s get to bed,” she said, wobbling slightly on her feet before finding her balance and helping her even more drunk sister up. They helped each other down the hall, and as Eliza tucked Peggy in, she received a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy ‘Happy Birthday’ followed promptly by deep, even breathing. Eliza crossed the hall, tiptoeing to avoid Angelica calling her back to the kitchen. She crawled into bed fully clothed with a sigh of relief, glad the day’s celebrations were finally over.
The remaining years leading up to 30 were easy to beg off. A well-placed appointment here, a deep desire to relax after a rough week of work there, the occasional played up illness scattered about, and, with the exception of a few graciously accepted gifts and some cupcakes or a small cake, Eliza had successfully avoided dealing with celebrating her birthday. Until now.
It started with a cut off conversation between John and Alex when she walked into the kitchen one morning a week before her 30th, little Philip in tow. Both men looked up, almost guiltily, before citing the time and dashing out the door with a peck on the cheek for each of them. She pursed her lips as the door shut, hoping they wouldn’t really do this to her.
Exactly a week later, Eliza woke up to breakfast in bed. She held back a groan and smiled instead, not wanting to alert anyone that might be home to her distress. The note from her boys detailed everything they had done. The house was clean, Philip was at a friend’s for a sleepover, their gifts were on the coffee table, and her boss had given her the day. With a shrug, Eliza tucked into her eggs with gusto. She was eating for two after all.
That evening, Eliza came home to a dark apartment. ‘No, not dark, dim.’ she thought, eyes immediately attracted to the soft light coming from her, John, and Alex’s bedroom. She toed off her shoes and padded silently towards the door. No one jumped out and yelled surprise. There was no cake or decorations or anything. Just her partners cuddled on the bed and waiting for her in their candlelit room. John noticed her first and let go of Alex to stand.
“We know you’re not much for your birthday, Betsey,” he began, walking over and pulling her close, “but your big day is something to celebrate. We love you.” he punctuated his statement with a kiss, before picking her up in a bridal carry and placing her on the bed between himself and a smiling Alex.
“Love you,” Alex whispered into her hair, curling around her body. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw. Birthdays might not be her thing, but maybe she could learn to celebrate with those she loved anyways.