“It’s my turn to toast now,” KP said.
I think everyone was a bit surprised he spoke, thinking he would slink around the party pretending he wasn’t there when it was such a big deal that he was there. When he raised his glass and looked at me, my heart started thudding, and my throat went dry.
“To a fantastic artist and an incredible woman, who I’m happy agreed to be my girlfriend… finally. I love you.” He brought the glass to his lips and eyed me with a stare so carnal it sent shivers to my loins.
“Cheers.” We all chugged.
“This isn’t half as disgusting as I feared it would be,” KP interjected, which brought fake laughter from the group who he sort of just insulted.
Wow, he was awkward in a crowd. I guessed if he wasn’t the lord and master of the game he didn’t know how to play. Ricky and Jamal made sure that he had another two or three drinks before we released him into the wild. We kept him close to us until we thought he could handle the party. He probably hadn’t ever been to a party where just having fun was the ultimate goal. Money may have bought toys, power, and world dominance, but it didn’t know shit about having fun.
We flanked him as I encouraged him to add his part to the graffiti project. It started out cute, mostly, he signed it with his famous signature then intertwined his name with mine and drew a spectacular heart around the names. It turned out beautifully. I was touched.
He asked us to take our picture with the heart.
“Wenton will love this,” I said as we looked at the photograph.
He smiled. “It’s not carved into a tree, but let’s hope it passes the test.”
Whether the drinks had let him relax enough to be himself or he was finally feeling comfortable, he looked like he was having fun. After the graffiti, we let him try his hand at party DJ. He definitely switched up the vibe with some of the tunes he selected, which were unexpectedly great. Eighties music certainly wasn’t dead, but when it was time for drunken Pictionary, the party really got started.
First, it was unanimously decided by a room full of drunken, creative people that KP and I split up. He had been under cover long enough, and it was time to unveil him. Most of the people left at the party were close friends I trusted, so we detached. He only protested a little because he had no artistic skills and was planning on riding on my coattails to victory. Not so much, buddy.
“You don’t have to be a good artist, you just have to be a persuasive one.” I winked at him. “You got this.”
He slurred a little. “I got this!”
And so the game began. I got the word “fragment” and nailed it with a picture of a shattered glass. He got the word “nutmeg” and drew eggnog with sprinkles on it, referring to a second picture he drew of an egg, N + the picture of a log. One very smart person on his team got it. He nearly flipped his lid. And so it went, with the teams getting louder and more rambunctious as we went along. I took a moment just to watch him having fun. He was really funny, sarcastic, and so gorgeous. I think I fell in love with him a little more, seeing him finally feeling loose and free-spirited. I’d watched him let go a little with Wenton but never to this degree. This felt so right.
As the game winded down, it was time for gifts. I absolutely didn’t expect gifts at all. While it wasn’t being said outright, this was a chance for people to give me their love since Gran’s passing. It was sort of just a lovefest all around. It gave people a chance to play, express their creativity, and share good times together in the wake of change.
“I thought the graffiti project was my gift. This is too much,” I protested.
“Just shut up and open your gifts!” Tammy playfully scolded.
Most of what I received were original artwork, handmade pottery, and a piece of gorgeous poetry that expressed the enormity of birth and death in the legends of our memory and the capacity of our hearts.
Then KP stood up, still a little rickety in his drunken state. “I want to give you my gift!”
I rolled my eyes. It was bound to be some outrageously expensive, totally inappropriate gift that was sure to embarrass me. So imagine my surprise when he walked out of the room — which was buzzing with people whispering their guesses — and returned with just a simple potted plant wrapped in a bow. While I was relieved, I was also strangely disappointed, only I shouldn’t have been.
“I got you something you wouldn’t throw at me or run away from,” he prefaced as the guests laughed.
“Orchids, how beautiful.” I was pretty sure I sounded grateful. Hopefully, the oh my god, all you got me was a plant! tone had not registered.
“They’re the symbol of everlasting male love,” he explained proudly.
Ah, it had a story. Okay, that was sweet, he was being sensitive. Now I liked the plant.
“I love it,” I squealed as I threw my arms around him, “and it’s not made of diamonds. I am so proud of you.”
His chest puffed up, “Me too.”
I placed the orchid on the mantel in the middle of everything and snuggled close to KP as the party wrapped up and people started to leave. I was sure to thank each guest and let them know how much it meant to me that they came and also cleaned up. My place looked surprisingly clean. Everyone had done a little to wash dishes, throw away dirty napkins and stuff lying about. It was nice not to have to worry about facing all of it in the morning. It was around two in the morning, and people had either already left, were passed out, or were so sloshed they could barely speak comprehensible English. We woke the crashed-out friends, called cabs for everyone, and just kept their cars at the house. We would have to play parking attendant in the morning, but it was worth it to make sure everyone was safe. Pretty soon, it was just KP and me standing on the corner of my street, hustling the last slurring drunk person into the back of a cab. Finally, we were alone.
“That was a fun party,” he said as he turned to me and gently slipped something cold and metallic into my hand, squeezing my fingers around it.
“Thanks,” I said cautiously as I opened my hand to reveal a set of car keys.
I looked at him, but he didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at me with the love of the world in his eyes as he smoothed his hand over my arm.
“First of all, I know you don’t want it. I do listen to you and respect what you have to say. All I ask is that you listen to me too.”
Heat began to simmer between my ears. “Seriously. You didn’t get me a car.”
“Well, I didn’t get you a car if you don’t want one. In that case, it’s a loaner.”