Fools Rush in(63)

And Sam.

Sam was hosting my surprise thirtieth birthday party at his house, the day after I’d torn him a new…

The song finished and everybody clapped and laughed at me, and then I was surrounded by hugging, giggling, babbling people.

“We got you good, Aunt Mil!” Danny exclaimed triumphantly.

Joe came over and planted a big kiss on my mouth. “Happy birthday, Millie! Surprise!”

I squeezed his hand. “Joe…I’m—I—my God, you bad, bad people!” I said. I had to wipe my eyes, because apparently I was crying a little bit.

“You really didn’t suspect anything?” my mom asked, giving me a hug.

“Suspect—God, I had no…my birthday’s not till the end of next week…and…”

My dad lumbered over, Coors Light in hand. “Happy birthday, sweetie,” he said, giving me a hug that lifted me off my feet and squeezed the air out of my lungs. “Nancy, our little baby is thirty!” he bellowed at my mom.

“Oh, Daddy,” I wheezed happily, my ears ringing.

He set me down and kissed me loudly on the cheek. “Got a little present for you!” he crowed.

“Not now, Howard,” my mom instructed. They made way as Sam came over and kissed my cheek.

“Happy birthday, Millie,” he said a little awkwardly.

“Oh, Sam…can you just sneak in here with me for sec?” I asked. Abandoning my parents and Joe (I guessed my parents already knew we were dating or were about to find out), I took Sam’s arm and dragged him into the bathroom off the foyer. I flicked on the light and shut the door.

“Sam, I’m so sorry!” I said.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I was so mean. I feel like crap.”

“Don’t, kiddo. You were right, I sort of crossed the line there.”

“No, no. It just hit a nerve, I guess.”

“I understand.” He shrugged a little.

“Are we okay, then?” I asked, the muffled booming of the guests and the stereo forcing me to raise my voice.

“Sure,” Sam answered, smiling.

“I can’t believe this party! My God, Sam! Thank you!” I smiled up at him, and he reached out and pinched my chin affectionately.

“Well, it was Katie’s idea, and your mom’s. I just offered the house and stuff.”

“I’ve never had a surprise party,” I said.

“Well, you’d better get out there and start enjoying it.” He paused, his eyes turning serious. “Millie—”

“Yes?”

“All those things you thought I meant about you and Joe…I wasn’t thinking them. If anything, I think Joe’s damn lucky. And he better deserve you. Okay?”

My eyes filled with tears. “Okay. And I’m sorry again. You know I love you, Sam.”

“Love you, too, kiddo.”

It suddenly seemed very still as we looked at each other, just inches apart in the small bathroom. Sam’s eyes were smoky-blue today, and his lips parted to say something. My breath caught for a second, then Sam seemed to change his mind. Reaching behind him, he opened the door. “After you, birthday girl,” he said.

The odd tension of the moment was forgotten as guests swarmed up to me, chatting merrily, laughing in the thrill of secrecy. Sam put an icy Corona in my hand and I smiled gratefully.

“How are you keeping, Millie?” Dr. Whitaker asked, peering at me through his horn-rimmed glasses.

“Very well, Dr. Whitaker,” I answered. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“You’re very welcome. And I think you should call me George, don’t you?” He gave me the smile that inspired so much trust in his patients, and I grinned back, delighted. “I’m looking forward to talking about our partnership this fall,” he continued.

Wanting to shout Yippee, I instead restrained myself and replied calmly, “As am I, sir.”

“Wonderful. Enjoy your party, my dear.”

Dozens of dishes swamped Sam’s kitchen counters, lasagna and green salad and pasta and lobster bisque so creamy and ethereally pink it could only have come from the Barnacle, quesadillas, buffalo wings (my favorite!), and a beautiful white cake with strawberries on top that must have been made by my mom.

I made my way back to the living room. Most people were in there or out on Sam’s huge deck, and for a minute I just soaked it all in, all these great people, throwing me a surprise birthday party. I couldn’t keep the goofy smile off my face.

Then the front door opened. “Where’s my baby sister?” called that unmistakable voice. “Oh, damn, Avery, we’re late!”

Ah, Trish. The queen of grand entrances. There she stood, wearing a black sleeveless knit dress that just cleared her ass, her long, tanned legs bare. Chunky diamond earrings. Hair gleaming like a crow’s wing. My guests grew still to watch, as Trish knew they would.

“Hi, Trish!” I called gamely.

“Millie!” she cried, swishing over to me in strappy high heels. “I’m so sorry we’re late! Oh, well, happy birthday! Hi, everyone!”

The adoring big sister was a new act, but I decided not to care and accepted her hug. “Thanks for coming.”