“Okay, remember, you have to actually act surprised,” Tate says, opening my car door for me and holding out his hand to help me out. “Mari thinks you’re completely clueless about the party.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been practicing in the mirror.” I turn and face him and press my hands to my cheeks, while doing my best “surprised” face. “Oh my gosh, a surprise party? For me? You shouldn’t have!” I smile, satisfied with my performance, but from the look on his face, I haven’t quite sold it to him.
He groans and slaps a hand against his forehead. “I hope you weren’t too attached to my balls, because after that performance, Mari’s going to castrate me.”
“Oh c’mon, it wasn’t
that
bad.”
“Right.”
“Well, the other person I tried it on seemed to approve.”
“And who exactly was this other person? Was he six with a superhero obsession?” When I don’t respond, Tate grins and wraps an arm around me. “Thought so.”
He leads me into
Red’s
where I’m supposed to believe that we’re just going to meet Mari for a couple of drinks. “Surprise! Happy Birthday Callie!” Rings out as people simultaneously leap up from their chairs and a few from behind the bar, shouting at me. I’d spent all morning practicing in the mirror on how to react in a way that would look genuine, so that no one would be able to tell I already knew about the party. But as it turns out, none of my practice made a damn bit of difference because within seconds, tears are falling down my cheeks and my smile is so wide, I’m afraid it’s going to break my face.
“You guys…this is amazing.” I sob into my hands which earns a round of laughter from everyone. “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“Oh, please, you know you love it,” Mari says, stepping forward from the crowd and folding me into her embrace. “Besides, you know I can’t pass up a reason to put together a fancy soiree. Now, go and say a quick round of hellos because we’ve got a lot of drinking to do!”
It doesn’t take long for the party to kick into gear, with the live band playing and drinks being handed out like candy on Halloween. It hasn’t even been an hour and I’ve already had three cranberry vodka spritzers, and I’m feeling good. Like,
really
good. In fact, I can’t remember the last birthday I had that was this much fun.
After moving to California, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by friends. Most of my birthdays were spent at home with Jonah, watching Gene Kelly movies while curled up on the couch, eating a piece of Duncan Hines cake that I’d baked earlier in the day. Eventually, the Duncan Hines cakes turned into store-bought ones that Patti would bring over before joining me on my movie marathon, only leaving once Zach came home late at night carrying a bag of Chinese takeout, a teal colored Tiffany box, and an apology about having to work late.
I used to tell myself that it was okay. I used to say that it didn’t matter that he had to work late all the time, because he’d always apologize for it. But I realize now that he chose to put work before me and before Jonah. If he was even really working. When it comes down to it, life is all about choices: the careers we choose, the relationships we forge, the mistakes we make. Zach had the choice and he chose to put work and his addiction before his family, and in the end, if someone truly is important to you, you find a way to put them first. You do whatever it takes to make sure they come before anything else.
The night quickly morphs into a collage of drunken anecdotes and laughter as I sit around a table with Tate, Mari, Matt, Macy and a couple of the other guys who are part of the jumping squad. Looking at the clock, I see that it’s barely eight o’clock, and yet, I’m exhausted and about ready to fall asleep here at the table. Deciding that moving is the best option for staying awake, I lean over and whisper in Tate’s ear.
“Dance with me.” I grab his hand and pull him up from his chair.
We weave through the crowd of people already on the dance floor and I wrap my arms around his neck. I smile when I feel him pull me closer to him. The band abruptly stops the song they’re playing and switches to a familiar bluesy opening, which has me staring up at Tate in shock.
“H-how did they know?” I ask as they begin to play Billie Holiday’s
All of Me
. “There’s no way you could have known I was going to ask you to dance.”
He chuckles and bends forward, pressing his forehead against mine. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist asking me to dance, so I had Mari tell them to start playing this song once you had me on the dance floor.”
I grin and close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the music and the feel of Tate’s arms around me. My head rests on his shoulder as my fingers comb through the hair that lines the nape his neck and I can feel the growing bulge beneath his jeans pressing into my belly. Images of what I’d like for him to do with that bulge begin to infiltrate my thoughts, and the ache between my thighs intensifies. Pressing myself into him, I bring my lips to his neck and place gentle kisses along his skin.
“Callie…” He warns as he narrows his eyes. “I don’t care that we’re surrounded by a bunch of your friends, you keep that up and I’ll drag you to the back and fuck you against the wall.”
I giggle and grip the ends of his hair with both hands, tugging his mouth toward mine. Our feet stop moving as my lips part and he deepens our kiss, letting his tongue tease mine. Time seems to stand still, and the sounds of the band, and laughter from our friends fades into the background, leaving me with the only sound that matters: our hearts beating in synch like the thrum of a single drum.
“Mind if I cut in and dance with the birthday girl?” a voice asks, off to the side.
With a frown, I inwardly groan, thinking my irritation is stemming from having this perfect moment interrupted by someone. It takes me a second to realize it’s not just someone. My eyes blink open, and I gasp, unsure of whether or not I’m looking at an illusion. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk those last spritzers that Mari brought by.
“Zach?” I ask, reaching out with one hand to poke his chest. When my finger touches the material of his shirt, I blink again, surprised that he’s actually here and not some twisted figment of my drunken imagination.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tate growls as he whirls around, stepping in front of me, barricading me from seeing Zach’s face. “This is a private party, one which you are not welcome to join.”
Zach smirks and clicks his tongue. “Well, seeing as how it’s my
wife’s
birthday, I think I’m more than entitled to be here.”
Anger rolls off Tate’s body in waves as his hands clench into fists at his sides and he takes a step forward. “A piece of paper doesn’t mean anything. Especially after what you put her through.”
“What
I
put
her
through? You don’t know shit.”
“I know enough. I know you let yourself gamble away all your money and then shoved your wife and son under the bus by basically robbing them and leaving them to fend for themselves while you went out and did only God knows what with the money. You picked up and left your family, and despite your issues, no kid deserves that. Especially not Jonah.”
“You’re right, I missed him.” Zach pulls a flask out of his back pocket and takes a long swig.
“Right, which is why you didn’t bother to call him or let Callie know what the fuck was going on with you. Instead, you abandoned her and put her in an impossible position of trying to figure out what to tell her son about why his dad wasn’t around.”
The band has stopped playing and I can feel everyone’s eyes glued to the verbal boxing match going on right now. They’re standing just inches away from each other, and from the way Zach’s veins are bulging in his forehead, I know if I don’t put a stop to this, tonight will end a bloody mess.
“Tate.” I grab his hand, and pull his attention back to me. “Let it go. This isn’t the place for us to have this discussion.” Tate nods and puts his arm around me as he places a kiss to my temple. I turn toward Zach whose eyes are honed in on me like a sniper rifle to a target. “Zach, please leave. I know we have a lot to talk about, but not here. Not like this. Why don’t you go check into a hotel, get some rest and sober up. Tomorrow morning you can visit Jonah and we can talk.”
“I’m fine, I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he says, taking another swig of his liquor. “I’m not leaving here until I see my son.”
“You’ve been drinking, there’s no way I’m letting you see Jonah like this. And you shouldn’t be driving either. Give me your keys, I’ll have a cab come pick you up and take you to a hotel.”
“Like hell you will.”
“Zach…”
The tension is so thick I can practically feel the weight of it crushing me with each breath. Mari is looking like she’s about three seconds away from grabbing the cake knife and shoving it through his heart, while Trista is standing with her arms folded across her chest, glaring daggers at Zach. From the look on her face, I know Zach has about thirty seconds before Trista will march over there and physically remove him from her restaurant.
“Do you know what it’s like trying to live up to Superman?” he asks Tate, his eyes turning wild. “Do you know what it feels like to come home and find your wife crying in our bed because she’s heartbroken? Not because of me, but because of
you
?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tate says.
“Oh, she didn’t think I knew, but I could see it every time she looked at me. Disappointment, because I wasn’t you. And how could I live up to the perfect guy? To the guy who was the sun to her universe? Don’t think I didn’t see the way she would look at you when you weren’t watching. That summer I was here, I could tell she was in love with you. That’s why when she told me she was pregnant with
our
child, I knew you had to be out of the picture.”
“That’s why you told me you couldn’t talk to me anymore?” Tate turns to me.
“Yes,” I reply.
“And now, come to find out, I leave for a few months and she has no problem spreading her legs for Superman here.” Zach laughs and stretches his arms out in front of him as though he were flying. “The big hero who can do it all!”
He slaps Tate on the back, and I realize just how disheveled he looks. His red polo shirt is wrinkled and has a yellow mustard stain just left of the buttons. The collar is folded down on one side, but sticking up on the other, and his khaki pants are covered in black smudges. His blond hair looks like he hasn’t brushed it in days, and he has dark bags underneath his bloodshot eyes. I’d barely recognize him if I saw him on the street. A nervous energy flits around him when he moves, and the way he gazes at me leaves me feeling chilled to the bone. He looks furious. Desperate. Unhinged.
“Zach, please…check into a hotel and sober up. We can talk about this tomorrow,” I plead.
His hands wring together and the muscles in his jaw tighten. “No. You are mine. Did you forget that I’m the one who paid for you to keep your baby? That I’m the one who paid for you to have a roof over your head? And
this
is how you repay me?
”
he waves his hand in Tate’s direction with disgust. “I don’t think so. I’m here to take what is mine.”
He grabs my wrist and yanks me until I collide with his body. “Zach, let go, you’re hurting me.”
“Oh, I’m hurting you? Well maybe you deserve it for being an ungrateful little bitch.”
“Hey!” A voice calls out and the sound of a shotgun loading pierces the air. I turn and see Trista standing behind the bar with a rifle aimed at Zach’s chest. “You have exactly three seconds to take your hands off her, or I swear to god, I will fill your body with so much lead, the coroner will be able to mold a statue out of you.”
Zach drops my hand and takes a step back, but never lets his gaze leave my face. “I’ll leave, but you’ll be really sorry about all of this.”
He storms out of the restaurant, and disappears into the darkness, leaving me feeling uneasy. Tate wraps his arms around me, holding me up when I feel like I could collapse any second.
“W-what do you think he meant by that?” I ask, unable to keep the quiver from my voice.
“I don’t know, but I swear to you, I won’t let anything bad happen, okay? You’re safe here with me.”