The guy has been carrying so much, always looking out for us, always focused and on point, so I think it did him a power of good to let go for just one night. Engaging in conversation with a beautiful age-appropriate woman would no doubt have helped as well. Nate’s just over fifty, Maria is forty-four and looks good with it as well, so a couple of drinks and a chat with a beautiful, intelligent woman of his own generation went down a treat, I think. They seem to get on really well.
There were games. I officially suck at musical statues, because once I’ve got a couple of drinks in me, I basically turn into a ten-year old anyway, and spend more of my time trying to distract other people so they’ll lose, rather than sorting my own game to win. I’m the most competitive person in the room when sober, but after a few drinks I’m more concerned with pissing about and having a giggle. Nate was a certain shoe-in for musical statues, as he’s basically made of granite anyway. And what do you know? Old Stony McGrumpychops wins the musical statues game by a landslide.
He tried to say it’s because of his sniper training and having to remain motionless for hours, but that’s just smoke and mirrors. Really, it’s because he’s a big grumpy golem.
On one of our house clearances, we found a ready cake mix, chocolate fudge no less. Nom nom nom. No eggs or flour needed, just add hot water and oil, mix, put in the oven and boom. Chocolate fudge flavoured cake.
We stuck some candles in, and we gave Charlie our own rendition of Happy Birthday, and he got to blow out ten candles. Kids love that shit, but as an adult, or even a teenager, that must be the most awkward moment in existence.
Seriously, what are you supposed to do for those fifteen seconds? Where do you look? You sit there, a slightly nervous and borderline hysterical grin on your face, not knowing what the hell you’re supposed to be doing for that time and just praying for it to end. It’s only made more uncomfortable by the fact that half of your impromptu choir are belting the words out with overenthusiastic gusto, while the other half are self-consciously mumbling the lines just so they don’t look like miserable sods. You’ll catch one of those eyes in your axis of awkward, both gazes haunted and pleading with each other, praying for this torment to end.
Honestly, if the Devil and Hell do exist, old Lucifer could put that one in his “eternal torment” playbook for sure.
Torment Option 666: Have ‘Happy Birthday’ sung to the tortured soul in a perpetual loop until the stars burn out and die.
I think I’d request a vinegar-coated whip to my butthole for eternity instead. Ultimate cringe moment.
For a ten-year old, however, he just beamed through it then had a “fuck yeah” smile on his lips as we all cheered his monumental success at blowing out ten tiny candles.
All in all, the party was a huge success. Everybody had an awesome time and it got to about 9pm when Charlie was super-tired from all the excitement and ready to hit the sack. Before he retired, my little dude came over to me while I was on the floor chatting to Isaac.
“Dad said you organised everything for today, Lockey. Is that right?”
“Hey, we’re all here little man. Everybody did this for you, savvy?”
“She’s just being modest, Charlie,” said Mark. “It was all her idea, so she deserves the credit.”
Charlie didn’t say anything, just flung his arms round me, the donkey head atop sliding forward a little to bonk me on the forehead.
“This day was the best,” came his muffled voice. “Thank you so much.”
That was the best bit of the whole damn day. It was a close-run thing with Particles’ towering disgust at being dressed as a hot dog, and Nate’s reveal as the grumpiest Super Mario in history, but it edged them both out. Operation Birthday was a resounding success and for this one day, Charlie got to be a normal kid.
As Charlie pulled away and went off to bed, I watched him go, my face hurting from the half-drunken grin of pure happiness. Nate caught my eye as Charlie disappeared and he gave me that little grin of his, tipped his glass of bourbon my way, and went back to his conversation with Maria.
The adults continued to drink for another hour or two, but eventually started drifting away. We don’t do all-nighters here, Freya. Too much shit to do. One by one, everyone started saying their goodnights and drifted away. It was about midnight and I have a terrible fear of missing out at parties, so I wasn’t hitting the sack until I was the last woman standing. Nate said his goodnight last and disappeared, leaving just me and Isaac.
We shot the shit for another half hour and laughed about stupid stuff because basically anything can make me laugh when I’m drunk. I go hyper-loopy, so I’m fun – or annoying – to be around when I’m drunk, because I’m a happy drunk. Everyone’s my bestest best mate in the whole wide world, and I become a hugger.
During one hug, we pulled away and I was about to say something, but Isaac leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. The initial shock drew me back, and we said nothing for a second, just looking at each other.
And like the dumb drunk bitch I was, I ended up having sex with him. Mostly clothed, urgent, and frantic, outside on the cold porch where we’d been sitting. Jack Sparrow and Han Solo going at it hell for leather like some weird porno crossover parody, all animalistic and frantic, at the end
