“C
aleb, I swear to god if you eat another pinwheel before Bo gets here, I’ll give you and Win matching fingers,” Sarah says, setting
a pitcher of lemonade on the table.
Caleb shoves his hand into his pocket and slowly backs away from the table of food.
“They’re two minutes away,” I announce to the room of guests, putting my phone on the counter next to the cake that Sarah and I decorated to look like a Hobbit door, complete with a large 30 in the centre.
Bo has been out with his dad since this morning. I know they started by getting lunch and ended at a brewery, but I’m not sure where they’ve gone in between. The only hint I have is the photo Bo sent of himself in a barber’s chair, covered in white towels and with a caption that read: I’m the mummy now.
I looked at the photo for way too long, even amongst the chaos that was throwing this party together.
I love that dork.
And I’m going to tell him. Tonight.
Sarah and I talked about everything last night, and one thing became clear. I physically cannot handle living here with him another second without telling him. I just have to leap blindly and hope he feels the same.
And even if Bo’s not fully moved on from his past relationship, I think he’d be willing to try starting something new. There were so many instances yesterday where I just knew he could feel the same way about me as I do about him. The waiting room, his disappointment when I asked him to take me to Sarah’s, the look in his eye when he said I was perfect.
I think I could be content, even if Bo’s heart is in two places. Honestly, at this point, I think I’d happily settle for half of his affections. I have a feeling Bo would love me better at half capacity than anyone else ever could.
Kevin and Jeremiah burst through the door, apologising for being late as they become a flurry of scarves and jackets being removed. “We saw them pull onto the street, but they didn’t spot us. We parked around the corner like instructed,” Kevin says, handing a plate of food to Jeremiah as he dramatically rips off his shoes, tosses them into the closet, and barrels toward me.
“Where do you want these?” Jer asks as his husband wraps me up in a hug.
“Just on the table please,” I squeak from the inside of Kevin’s tight hug. “How ya doing?” Kevin asks, releasing me.
“Fine!”
He studies me with a knowing smile. “You seem nervous.” “I want Bo to love his party…”
“The party… sure,” Kevin says, patting my shoulder. “Sarah!” he shouts, walking over to her. “I made the bacon-wrapped scallops I was telling you
about…” I lose focus of their conversation behind me when Walter raises his hand, pointing outside the window.
“They’re here,” he says, dropping the curtain. Adamir shuts off the lights as I pause the music, and everyone else crouches behind furniture or walls.
I move to the centre of the archway, between the dining and living room, and wait, my heartbeat thumping in my ears.
Bo’s dad opens the front door and quickly jogs inside, hiding on the other side of the archway, tucked inside the living room. He smiles widely at me with anticipatory excitement across his features.
I wink at him, my giddy smile growing by the second.
“Dad?” Bo calls out from the front steps. He’s nearly laughing but mostly confused as he steps into the front hall.
Then he sees me, wearing my dorky cone-shaped party hat and my purple linen dress, and his shoulders fall with a contented smile.
The seconds pass like minutes as we stare at each other from across the room.
But chaos explodes all around us soon enough, once Sarah restarts the music and everyone shouts “Surprise!” as they pop out from their hiding places.
Bo jumps backward, nearly falling on his ass. He clutches his chest, laughing as he regains his balance with one hand on the wall. “Oh my god,” he says, breathing heavily, half bent over. “Hi, everyone…” he says, straightening, his eyes on me.
“Happy birthday?” I say, wincing.
He shakes his head, smiling broadly as he beelines across the room toward me, dodging furniture and people in his path. Without warning, Bo
picks me up off the ground and into his arms, crushing me against him in a tight hug as my feet dangle underneath me.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, his mouth tilted into the crook of my neck.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him too. “I said I would be,” I whisper back.
“Did you do all of this?” he asks, his voice less strained but not quite right.
“Yeah.”
He sighs out, his breath warm against my throat. “Thank you.”
“So this is what it’s like up here,” I say, admiring my new viewpoint from over Bo’s shoulder. “I like it.”
“I missed you,” he says, lowering me back to stand on my own two feet.
I reach beside me for a party hat and hold it up to him. “It was just one night,” I say.
Bo bends at the waist, allowing me to fasten it to his head. “Happy birthday,” I repeat, just for him this time.
“You didn’t text me back,” he says, his lips twitching into an uneasy grin. “I thought you were…”
I narrow my eyes on him, noticing the unusual mopiness across his face and the wildly tousled hair that usually signals his unease. His beard got tidied up and trimmed, but I’m glad he didn’t let the barber take off any of his hair. I love it longer.
“I’m sorry. I was busy doing this, and I forgot to reply.”
“No, don’t be sorry. This is amazing. I’m…” He shakes himself, reaching out for me. “Hi,” he says, pulling me against his chest again.
I laugh, hugging him. “Bo, are you okay? There are other people here who—”
“I’m a little drunk.” He straightens, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his grey sweater. “I haven’t had a drink since you told me about the baby. Solidarity, you know? But I think I’m a lightweight now?” He swallows, dropping his chin. “I had two sampler flights, and Dad ended up having to drive us home.” He scratches his jaw, looking around with a polite smile. “Everyone’s looking over here…” he whispers.
I nod thoughtfully, trying not to smirk. “You gonna be okay, big guy?” He nods, licking his lips. “I’m gonna get some food. That’ll help.”
“Great idea.” I pat his back as he wanders over to the food table, greeting more of his friends as he forgoes a plate and shoves a few different things into his mouth at once.
Sarah widens her eyes at me, her lips pulled inward as I walk toward her in the kitchen. “That was quite the entrance.”
“He’s a little tipsy, turns out.” I grimace, laughing.
“I thought he was going to carry you around the whole party like a favourite toy.” She hands me a wineglass filled with lemonade. “He looked a little tortured when he saw you. You should probably put him out of his misery. Or not, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“He thought I was mad at him,” I explain. “I didn’t text him back, and… after yesterday, I think he probably feels as uneasy as I do.”
“Well, you should definitely show him how not mad you are,” Sarah says, smirking into her glass of merlot.
“He’ll have to sober up first,” I laugh.
Kevin joins us, sipping on his drink as all three of us watch Bo introduce his dad to Walter, Jeremiah, and Adamir.
“Bo’s dad is insanely hot, right?” Kevin whispers.
“It’s a little jarring, honestly,” I reply, the hand on my neck slipping down to my chest.
“Would it be weird for you if I invited him to be our third?” Sarah asks, turning her smirk toward me. “I think Caleb could be persuaded.”
“Shut up,” I say, sputtering my drink.
“I think I’d risk our friendship for him,” she whispers. “Oh, you would, huh?”
“Oui, oui,” Sarah says, giggling into her wine.
 |
The party was a huge success.
Bo bounced around between his friends all evening, all the while devouring a truly startling amount of food. Sarah challenged Walter to a lip- sync battle and got her ass handed to her with a vote of six to one. Caleb, of course, voted with his heart.
Robert held court with Jeremiah and Kevin most of the evening, discussing French cuisine. Adamir and I bonded over our love of plants, and I sent him home with a dozen cuttings to propagate when he cut out early.
Then, after a truly wonderful evening, the party died down a little after midnight. Walter caught a ride home with Jeremiah and Kevin. Caleb and Sarah stayed to help clean up. Not that Sarah is any help in her current state.
“This was great, Win,” Caleb says, tying a garbage bag.
“I had fun,” I say, smiling into the sink as I wash wineglasses. “I hope Bo did too.”
“Sure seems like it,” Caleb says, peeking out into the living room. “I think we should get going, though. Have you got this?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll just do the rest tomorrow,” I say, drying my hands on a tea towel. “Thanks for helping.”
“Any time,” he says, putting his arm around me as we turn the corner into the living room. I fall next to Sarah on the couch and begin petting her hair away from her face. “Time to go, babe,” I whisper. “You can sleep in your nice, warm bed.”
Sarah sits up, groaning.
“Ready, love?” Caleb says, bending over the back of the couch. Sarah stumbles over to him, then pets his face as he shakes his head affectionately. “Yeah, you’re ready. Okay, here we go.” He guides her to the front hall with a hand on the small of her back and helps her into her shoes and coat.
“Byeee,” Sarah whines out, waving from the door with her eyes mostly shut. “Robert, it was so good to meet you. Bo, happy birthday. You’re great. Win…” Sarah opens one eye, looking at me with a soft, hazy smile. “Best of luck with all your future endeavours,” she hiccups.
“Nailed it,” Caleb says gently, rubbing her back. “Bye, guys. Happy birthday, man!”
“Thank you,” Bo says to them both. “Thanks for coming,” he repeats. “Love you!” I shout after them as Caleb shuts the door.
“You’ve got a good group of friends, Robbie,” Bo’s dad says, sighing. “It’s nice to see.”
I glance between the men, but they both slowly turn toward me, smiling appreciatively.
“I’m very lucky,” Bo says softly—eyes held on mine.
I blush, but the dimly lit room is hopefully dark enough to disguise it well.
“I’m going to go take a shower before bed,” Bo says. “You okay?” he asks me.
“Of course,” I say, smiling up at him.
As soon as Bo’s out of the room, Robert stands and moves to the opposite end of the couch from me. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I like knowing my son is well looked-after.”
“Ah, well, it’s just a party.”
“No, it isn’t. He’s happy now. He was not happy last year. Who could blame him?”
“Sometimes I wish I’d known him then,” I admit. “I hate thinking that he felt so alone.”
Robert tilts his head into his palm, listening to me with a warm grin—an almost proud expression. “Joanna would have loved you, you know. You have her same… care. I can tell life has not been easy or always kind to you, but you haven’t let it turn you hard. Not like a stone. You became like water. You move with it all. You’re soft… but powerful.”
I immediately have to blink away tears, shaking my head. “Oh,” I say, sniffling. “That’s, um…”
“The odd musings of a drunk Frenchman, oui.”
“No, I mean… That’s very kind. Thank you. From what Bo has said, Joanna was a fantastic person. I certainly admire her taste in music,” I say, offering a piece of levity.
“What has Bo said about his mother?”
I wince, hoping I don’t make Bo sound cold or uncaring. But I don’t want to lie either. “Not a lot, honestly. Just… how you two met. How much you both miss her. The music, and—”
“How she passed?” Robert interrupts. No, I say silently, shaking my head.
He hums, nodding softly. “Joanna struggled the way a lot of artists do. Her feelings often felt too big to hold on to. Too out of control. But it made her great. Passionate about her music.” He licks his lips, leaning back on the couch. “When we decided to have children, we’d already been together for eight years. We had this nice little apartment in Toronto. We played music together every day, and we had so much happiness. Joy and laughter and… I thought the best was yet to come.”
Robert chokes up and immediately reaches for his throat. I do the same without thinking. My heart starts pounding in my chest, waiting on every word.
“Back then, there was no real word for the way Joanna seemed to lose herself during pregnancy. She became… like a ghost. I tried to help. I tried to get her help, but…” Robert sighs, shaking his head at the ceiling. “It was all too much for her. She left a note, saying that she was sorry. That she loved us. That she couldn’t explain why she couldn’t stay, and… she took her own life. Bo was only twelve weeks old.”
I inhale sharply, covering my mouth as my lips quiver. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I… I had no idea. I’m so—”
“I wish every day that I could have helped her more.”
“I’m sure you did everything you possibly could have.” I rest my hand on his knee.
He pats my hand twice with his, and I notice it’s shaking. He then brings it to his chin, rubbing it back and forth. “A few summers after she passed, Robbie was still small—just turned five—and I left him with Joanna’s sister for a week. I had a show to play outside of Canada, and I thought…” His voice trails off as he takes a deep breath in. “The horrid woman told him what happened. Told him the truth about how Joanna passed. And… I’ve felt that, ever since then, Robbie’s held on to a responsibility. That he feels partially to blame. I regret that too.”
My jaw shakes, then loosens as my tears threaten to pour, thinking of that little boy who’s grown into the man I know. The realisation as to why every step of this pregnancy has held such weight to Bo. My feelings, my housing, my finances, my health. All because of what happened to his mother. Because of that guilt he feels.
I wish he’d told me, but I understand why he didn’t, or couldn’t. It’s unimaginable, that level of pain.
“When he called to tell me about the baby… about you… I think he felt like he’d been given another chance, almost. I tried to talk to him about it. Tried to tell him that it was not his burden, but mine. But it’s hard to do. Robbie would always rather worry about someone else than himself. He’s always been that way.”
“I… I’m okay, though,” I say, because part of me thinks Robert needs to hear it too. “I didn’t need him to—”
“Yes,” he agrees. “I think he thought at first that he had to keep you close for your sake. To not have history repeat itself. But now? Now is different. I think he needs you.”
“Bo’s… Bo is… He’s wonderful.”
“He is,” Robert agrees. “But he has a soft heart, like his mother. Like you. You must be gentle with each other, okay?”
A soft heart like his father, it seems, as well. “Yes,” I agree, my voice barely audible.
“Good…” Robert sighs, standing up slowly. “I fear I’ve ruined the evening now, with all my sad ramblings.”
“Oh, no… No, you—”
“I miss her today, especially. Thirty birthdays for our boy. She should be here.”
“Maybe she is? In a way we can’t see?”
“Perhaps,” Robert says, swaying as he places a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself. “Thank you for tonight, Win. But more importantly, for giving Robbie a reason to celebrate again.”
“Good night,” I say, looking over my shoulder as Robert walks around the back of the couch toward Bo’s bedroom.
And I wipe my eyes, determined to go find Bo and hold him for as long as he’ll let me.
