Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Weston
Why is this not working? I stare at the computer, unable to figure out why my code is throwing an error. My eyes feel incredibly heavy, and as the clock nears seven, I start to wonder if I’m going to be stuck here until midnight.
Please don’t let that happen.
It’s not that I have anything else to do, though.
So if I have to stay and work, it’d really have no impact on my life.
I sigh, then run my fingers through my hair, wincing at the tangles in my dark locks.
My phone, which is sitting a few inches away from the keyboard, vibrates against the desk.
The sound is jarring, and I startle, jumping sideways in my desk chair.
I guess that goes to show how often it doesn’t go off.
Instead of swooping in and picking it up, though, I just lean over, squinting down at the notification. I frown.
You’re invited to The Single’s Event at Mako Gallery!
Instantly, a groan slips from my lips. I used to see the invitations and get a little more excited about them. But now? Now I totally understand how Parker used to feel when I would drag him to these. Well, and also…
My letters from Brittany are way better than any singles event.
And I know that’s bad. I know it is. She’s off-limits in every way, other than what we’re doing right now. And even that might get me in trouble.
Yikes.
But it’s still one of the best experiences I’ve had in a long time, and I feel like slowly but surely, we’re getting closer.
My eyes drift over to the calendar hanging over my desk, and I note that it’s been about ten days since I sent her the Saint Patrick’s Day letter.
I smile thinking about it, then am startled again as a heavy set of knuckles thud against the doorway of my office.
“What the heck?” I spin around, not expecting anyone else to still be here.
Parker folds his arms across his chest, completely unfazed by the fact he scared the daylights out of me. “Let’s talk about your birthday. It’s coming up in just a few weeks.”
Right. My birthday. It’ll mark thirty-one years of … this.
“What about it?” I’m careful about my question, because, one, Parker never talks about birthdays, he just always plans some sort of dinner around the time of it. And two, reread number one. The word birthday is not something that comes out of his mouth.
“I feel like we should celebrate it,” Parker begins, strolling into my office and pulling out the spare chair. “We don’t do enough of that stuff—I realized that recently.”
“You mean…” I huff. “Amy has changed your mind about avoiding all things happy and celebratory.”
“That’s valid, yes.” Parker chuckles, leaning his elbow against the arm of the chair. “I think we should throw you a birthday party this year. Amy loves to host things, so maybe we could do it at my place?”
I mull it over for a minute, trying to think of what a birthday party would even look like. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been to them as an adult, but I can’t, for the life of me, imagine Parker hosting a party, for me, at his penthouse.
“I know it’s not our usual, but I thought it could be fun,” Parker explains. “I’m thinking I could invite Brittany too. I’m trying to get closer to her, but now that she’s back to her regular life in her new apartment, it’s been a lot harder to see her.”
“Yes, because heaven forbid you just ask her out to lunch. She lives in the same city as you, Parker. She’s in Manhattan, not Timbuctoo.” I ignore the little pang of excitement in my chest. Would she even come to my birthday party?
He glares at me. “Well, it might as well be Timbuctoo. I never go over there.”
“But you could,” I point out, trying to pull my mind away from the blonde pen pal I’ve grown attached to. “So, you’re pretty much just making excuses.”
“Yeah, okay.” He shakes his head at me, leaning back in the chair. “I get your point, but that doesn’t change your birthday party. We’re going to have it, and Amy wants to organize it. She’s stopping by this evening to talk to you about what you might want.”
“Like a theme? Like Superheroes or something?”
Parker makes a face. “I don’t think that’s something you do as an adult.”
“Wouldn’t know.” I hum, giving him a smirk. “I’ve never had a birthday party thrown for me as an adult before, just these weird secret dinners that seem to land right on my birthday.”
He grumbles something incoherent under his breath, then lifts himself to his feet. “You know I was discreet. I didn’t want to remind you that you were getting old. That wouldn’t have been very generous.”
“No.” I laugh. “But you could’ve at least said happy birthday.”
“I did,” he shoots back. “By paying the check.”
“Yeah, that’s just sad,” a woman’s voice chimes from the doorway. Amy suddenly comes bounding into my office like she’s made of helium, her heels barely hitting the floor.
“Hi, Amy,” I drawl out. I have no idea how the woman functions at this time of day with such lightness in her movements. I’m usually dragging along like I’m chained to a block of concrete.
“Hi, Wes.” She greets me with a smile as she takes a seat on Parker’s lap.
Normally, I might think that’s a little much, but there’s no other chairs in my office, so better on him than me.
“So … birthday parties? How do you feel about them? What kind of themes do you like? I was thinking we’d go all out since you haven’t had one in a while. ”
“Um…” I feel pure overwhelm. “I don’t know?”
“We could do an eighties theme? Or maybe the nineties? We could do a murder mystery game? I need to know everything you like. We’re going to make this epic.”
I look past her to Parker, who looks like the entire shenanigan is worthy of awe. He’s in so deep with her, and I can’t even be mad about it. It’s just too freaking adorable to see Parker in love.
“Well? Themes?” she urges, tapping my shin with her foot to get my attention. “I just need to know the things you like.”
“I don’t know what I like.”
“Oh my gosh,” she groans, tipping her head back and giving Parker a face full of dark locks. “I don’t understand. How can you not know what you like?”
“Maybe because I’ve never had a birthday party as an adult.” I grunt, my eyes flickering up at the clock. “But I do have a bedtime I don’t want to miss.”
“You’re becoming a Parker. You need to find love.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Gandhi.”
“Themes,” she repeats herself.
“Themes,” Parker echoes, giving me that you better answer her expression.
I let out a heavy breath. “I like the nineties—that’s a pretty cool idea. I don’t think I want to do a murder mystery; I’d never get it solved. I didn’t watch those kinds of shows, and I don’t think there’ll be enough people there for that to work.”
“Okay, so the nineties it is, then?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I give in. “Let’s go with it.”
“Perfect!” she squeals, then quickly dives into a whole planning session for a birthday party I didn’t ask for. Her questions just keep coming, and we discuss everything from cake to decorations to the guest list.
I keep reminding myself that Brittany will potentially be there, and that’s what keeps me pressing forward as the minutes turn to an hour, and then two.
None of my coding work gets done, but by the time the clock strikes nine-thirty, I know I’m not going back to it.
I’ll be lucky to make it home without falling asleep walking there.
In fact, by the time we’re heading out of the office, I’ve already ordered an Uber. I bid Amy and Parker goodbye, and make sure to thank her for all the party planning and what not. Even if it’s a little foreign, it’s probably going to be fun.
Maybe it’ll impress Brittany.
That thought has my stomach fluttering with nerves.
I don’t know if she’ll find it impressive or sad.
Either way, maybe at least we can laugh about it?
I let out a sigh as I climb into the back of an Uber and make the mostly silent ride to my apartment.
I thank the driver, climb out, and disappear into my building.
And as I walk past the mailroom I realize…
I might have mail.
I haven’t checked my emails for any notifications when it comes to USPS. I stick my key in the lock, and turn it, opening the little mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a letter.
And I nearly pass out with pure joy.
I grab it and grin at the familiar curly feminine handwriting on the front.
However, as much as I want to tear it open right here and now, I wait until I’m upstairs and inside my place so I can set my things down and give it my full attention.
Polly, the stuffed Siamese cat watches as I carefully pull out the handmade card.
I stare at the small letters at the top.
It’s Make Up Your Own Holiday Day, so…
Happy WESTON IS AWESOME Day!
I chuckle at the fake holiday and stick figure drawing of a man with a computer underneath.
I’m not sure exactly what she was going for, but I love it, and I’m grinning so hard my face hurts.
I flip it open and push the limits of my smile, seeing the long letter enclosed, taking up the whole card.
A picture of her in a Superman cape on the beach falls out as well.
I take a second to admire the beautiful blonde on the beach in the cape I sent, and I can’t help but feel all the feelings about it. I set it down on the kitchen counter before I mentally combust, and start reading the letter.
Weston,
Thank you for taking the time to dress Polly up.
I would’ve been so sad if she had gotten pinched for not wearing green.
As for Florida, it was fun and the warm weather was nice.
I was ready to come back to the city, though.
As much as I love traveling, I also like being home. Do you think that makes me a homebody?
You said you traveled to Florida as a kid. What was your childhood like? I don’t think Parker has ever told me about it. He doesn’t really tell me much about anything, haha. I bet you know a lot about my childhood, though.
We grew up poor, in the Bronx. Money was always tight, and my parents fought a lot.
Their divorce was pretty ugly, and after that, there wasn’t much stability.
Dad worked nonstop. He was always exhausted, always stressed, and he carried a lot of anger about what he couldn’t give us.
But he showed up in the ways he knew how.
Then my mom started dating, and there were a lot of men coming in and out of our lives.
It felt like everything was constantly shifting.
And Parker … Parker was the one who made things feel steady when nothing else was. He protected me from more than I’ll probably ever know, and I think growing up that way is a big reason why he is the way he is now.
I talked to my dad a few days ago. I try to keep up with him and remind myself that he did the best he could.
I’ve forgiven my parents for the mistakes they made, but I don’t really talk to Mom as much lately, aside from holidays.
She just got a new boyfriend, and she always disappears a little when there’s a man in her life.
On a happier note, I’ve recently started getting close to one of the new girls at work.
Her name is Harlee. She’s a little eccentric and a little loud, but she’s a total sweetheart and she somehow walked into my life at a time when I really needed a friend.
She’s pretty much become the best friend I always wanted but never really had.
She’s like the Parker to Weston—or maybe the Weston to Parker.
She’s definitely too happy to be a Parker.
Tell me about your childhood?
And keep being awesome!!!
Sincerely,
Brittany
P.S. I really love this exchange. You’re the best pen pal I’ve ever had. Let’s keep it going!
“Absolutely,” I whisper, setting the card down on the counter. “We have to keep this going.”