Such a Fun Age(67)

Josefa removed her straw from her lips and dipped her head so hard that her ponytail swung. “Excuse me? Did you just have a stroke?”

Shaunie laughed and wiped the side of her mouth with a napkin. “But Mira, it’s your birthday!”

“Nah, I wanna do this real quick.” Emira got the attention of a waiter and ordered four tequila shots. They arrived with a coppery glaze of sugar and pineapple slices around the rims.

“Okay . . .” Emira watched her girlfriends hold their shots up and lick the excess from their fingers. For a moment, she felt the way she did when Briar saw a picture of a flower, sniffed it, and said, “Delicious,” but she pushed these feelings aside so that she could speak. She sat up and raised her voice above the bass and steel drums.

“Sooo I’ve been a little cranky and like . . . broke these past few months. And I really appreciate you tolerating me. Next year is gonna be different and I’m really thankful for you guys helping me get my shit together. Sefa, thank you for helping me print out my résumé on nice paper.”

“Nice paper, yasss mija.” Josefa snapped her fingers four times.

“Shaunie.” Emira turned to her. “Thank you for emailing me about new jobs. Every day. Multiple times a day . . . can’t wait to unsubscribe.”

“You said you wanted help!”

“And Zara, thanks for helping me write stupid-ass cover letters and making me not sound like an idiot.” Emira leaned into her friend. “And thanks to you ladies . . . I officially have an interview next week.”

Zara and Josefa together said, “Ayyeee!” Shaunie appeared overjoyed at this news and also devastated that both of her hands weren’t available for clapping. “Ohmygod, yay! Emira, that’s amazing!”

“Okay, okay, that’s it, though. No more work talk.” Emira held her drink up. The girls followed suit.

“To Mira being all professional and shit in 2016,” Zara said. “Cheers, bisshhh. Happy birthday.”

Emira touched her chest as she tipped the glass back. Josefa pulled out her phone and said, “Mira, smile.” Emira pursed her lips. “Oh, that’s cute.” Josefa examined it. “That’s real cute. I’m posting this.”

Earlier that day, when Emira returned to drop Briar at home, she didn’t give Mrs. Chamberlain the fifteen dollars remaining in her jacket pocket. She’d spent $6.50 on a movie ticket for herself (Briar’s ticket ended up being free), five dollars on a small popcorn, and then $2.25 on a red velvet cupcake. She and Briar split the treat sitting across from each other in a bakery filled with white people and pictures of vintage chickens framed on the walls.

“Hey, B. Guess what?” Emira said in between two licks of frosting. “It’s my birthday today.”

Briar seemed both charmed and unsurprised by this information. “Okay. Then you . . . you a big girl now.”

“I am a big girl.”

“Good job, Mira.”

Emira said, “Thank you.”

Emira had done a good job. That week, she’d spent her days giving Briar the time of her life, taking her to new places (she was fairly certain that Briar had never even heard of a mall), and teaching her what the words curious, alarm, and dimple meant. At night, she Googled childcare and administrative positions, sent out six résumés, and dropped off two more. Emira’s upcoming interview was for a full-time childcare manager position at Body World Fitness down in Point Breeze. She didn’t mention to her friends that the pay was shitty, four dollars an hour less than she was making now. And she didn’t mention the quick onset of depression she’d felt when she dropped her résumé off at the colorful but faded room that smelled of sanitizer and spit-up. (One of the workers there, a girl a few years younger than Emira, had run to catch up with a mom and son, saying, “He forgot his cup!” while laughing. There was something about the way she trotted and held the dirty sippy cup that made Emira surprisingly sad.) But when she got the call back later that day, she said she was very interested in the job and would love to come in for an interview next week. Emira couldn’t wait to tell Kelley. Kelley who’d sent flowers to her apartment that morning, who texted happy birthday at midnight the night before, who was working late but would arrive later for drinks and dancing.

After dinner, the girls made their way to the windowless bar downstairs. Shaunie’s friends from Sony piled in, a few of Josefa’s classmates stopped by, some girls they all went to Temple with came through, and none of Zara’s co-workers showed up. When Emira told Zara she was welcome to invite them, Zara had said, “Ew, no. I work with them—please. But tell Kelley to bring that guy with the fade.”

Kelley did bring the guy with the fade and two others. Emira was three drinks deep and sitting atop a bar stool when he walked in. It all seemed extremely funny and miraculous. I have a boyfriend? On my birthday? And he’s white? Oops! Okay! Kelley inched through a crowd of bodies, and while still sideways, he looked at her and said, “Hey, pretty.”

Emira grinned into their kiss. “It’s my birthday.”

“Oh, for real? That’s crazy. Happy birthday,” Kelley said casually. “How was . . . how are you? How was work?”

“Good.” Emira set her empty glass on the bar and swiveled back around to face him. “We saw a movie. And then we saw another movie. And then we got a cupcake.”