Wesley thanked us all with a hug and a kiss and we returned to the kitchen table to set the cake ablaze with nineteen candles. We crooned the happy birthday song, even though my family made it sound like a funeral dirge rather than a jaunty tune. Wesley blew out all the candles in one breath and winked at me, and I felt certain that I knew what his wish was. He didn’t say anything about the cake’s decorations other than thank you until Alycia asked him how he liked the floral motif.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Wesley laughed, pulling extinguished candles from the cake. “It’s cute, but it is a little girly.”
“I know! That’s why it’s perfect!” Alycia said, sucking the chocolate frosting from the bottom of the candles.
“You’re cruisin’, kiddo.”
Mom and I laughed at their banter and then took the cake to cut it up. I got four small plates and forks, and Alycia got the ice cream. We sat around the table and enjoyed the special dessert that now read: Happy Bi Wes.
It was getting late and Mom and Alycia had work and school, respectively, so Wesley and I packed up his presents and half of the remaining cake and headed home. The light was blinking on the answering machine and, without thinking, I set the tinfoil-covered cake down and pressed the button. A mechanical voice announced that we had two messages and then Mrs. Carroll’s voice came on, saying “Happy Birthday, Wes.” It wasn’t a sad greeting, but it wasn’t necessarily happy either. It was dismissive, like a formality. It sounded like the first call I got from Dad after the divorce: a little forced but with an “I’m not really sure what to say” tone. She asked Wesley to call her back and then said happy birthday again and the machine beeped.
“Heh, I’m surprised they remembered,” Wesley said quietly, his mood darkening.
“Of course they would! It’s your birthday!” I answered, trying to sound upbeat.
The machine stated the time of the second call and the quiet room was filled with a lively rendition of the birthday song in a duet. One voice was distinctively Scott’s and the other voice must’ve belonged to his girlfriend, Michele. At the end of the song, Scott’s loud voice boomed: “Happy birthday, little brother! Nineteen years old! Man, when did you get so old? I just wanted to let you know that we’re thinking about you and that we love you. Happy birthday!”
I looked at Wesley and he was smiling. Scott’s message stripped away the darkness from Mrs. Carroll’s message and I was relieved. I wasn’t going to misuse the timing of their calls and let Wesley remember his mother’s message. I took his hands, leaned into him, and kissed him, rolling my pierced tongue between his lips.
“Oh, I kinda like that,” he said, after I pulled my kiss away. “It’s all healed then?”
“Yup,” I answered. “I can’t believe I waited a whole week before I could kiss you like that again.”
“I know; it was a long week, but fortunately there were other things we could do,” he said with a grin.
I kissed him again. “Well, now there’s more stuff we can do. C’mon, I’ve been dying to try this out,” I said, sticking my tongue out.
Chapter 35
“Do I really have to go?” Wesley asked, crossing his arms and pouting.
“Oh, c’mon. It’s only for a couple hours. It’ll be over before you know it,” I said, pulling on a pair of black socks. “Besides, you haven’t seen your parents since you moved out, and it’ll be good to talk to them.”
“No, it won’t. They’ll start bitching at me just like always.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” I said, getting a narrow glare from Wesley. “And your brother’ll be there too. You haven’t seen him since graduation,” I added, safely changing the direction of the conversation. “Don’t you want to know what his big announcement is?”
It took everything I had to convince Wesley to go home for Thanksgiving. Fortunately, Scott called the Monday before and told us he was coming home for the holiday and that he had a big announcement, but he wouldn’t say a word unless Wesley came to Thanksgiving dinner. He finally relented after a lot of coaxing, but he was still trying to get out of it.
I stood
