As torturous as the thought of ringing in the big one-eight with a sad, three-person dinner was, so was the thought of disappointing his mom. “All right, all right,” Gael said reluctantly. He pulled on his Chucks, squeezing his feet in without messing with the laces.
His mom walked in the room and leaned against his closet door. Her dark, almost-black hair was pulled into a bun, and she was wearing a black dress with a scarf she’d knitted herself, along with these dangly turquoise earrings that Gael and his dad had picked out a couple of birthdays ago. “I just spoke to your dad, actually. He’s going to come, too.”
Gael raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said we were going to do stuff separately.”
“Well, I changed my mind, okay?” Immediately, she forced a smile, as if surprised at herself. Angela Brennan, who made her living raising her voice to young college students, entreating them to open their eyes to the bullshit of the system, was a beacon of cheerfulness at home. He’d gone with his dad to pick her up once, and they’d caught the tail-end of her lecture—it had been crazy to see the petite woman who cut the crusts off his bread talking vehemently about housework being the “second shift.”
Of course, only now could he really see that her cheerfulness took work. Now that his dad was gone, she was constantly trying to hold it together—Gael wondered sometimes how long she’d been doing that before his dad left.
(A long time, actually. Longer than even I had realized.)
She took a deep breath and clasped her hands together. “I just meant, I know this has all been very hard for you, and so I thought, in the transition, that it would be nice to do something as a family.” Her smile fell flat as she waited for his reaction.
Gael just shrugged. “Whatever.”
Her smile came back in full force. “Oh, by the way,” she said as she moved toward the door. “I ran into Sammy on campus this morning. I asked her to come, too. We’ll pick her up on the way.”
Another shrug. “I honestly don’t care who comes, Mom.”
She tilted her head to the side, smirking. “Whatever you say . . .”
The truth was, all Gael wanted was to binge-eat cake and Snickers and watch anywhere from two to ten movies.
But he guessed he should be used to not getting what he wanted by now.
It was dim inside the sushi place, which was decorated to make you forget you were eating raw fish nearly three hours from the ocean, with earthy colors and paper shades and potted curlicue bamboo plants and waiters wearing all black. Sizzling sounds came from the kitchen, and the place smelled salty and delicious.
Even though they arrived early, Gael’s dad had beaten them there and was sitting at a big table in the middle. Arthur Brennan was passionate about four things in life: running, Russian history, UNC basketball, and punctuality.
His dad, easily the tallest person in the room, stood up as they walked in and shifted his weight from foot to foot while nervously running a hand through his meticulously cut and parted sandy blond hair. His dad and his mom proceeded to do an awkward dance of deciding whether to hug (they didn’t) and where to sit (Piper and Sammy ended up taking two spots between them so they didn’t have to be too close). Gael took a seat next to his mom, and it didn’t take him long to realize there were two extra seats, right next to him.
“What’s with the chairs?” he asked.
And then—
“Anika!” His mom stood up, and Gael turned around, already feeling ill, but it wasn’t just Anika. It was Mason, too. Both walked in all smiling, like they hadn’t just mutually broken his heart and ruined his life.
Gael forced his mouth into a smile as Sammy caught his eyes, her teeth clenched awkwardly, a look of pity creeping its way across her face.
Gael felt his body tense as Anika gave him a hug. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, and she smelled like she always did, like coconut shampoo. She pulled back way too fast and yet not soon enough.
Then Mason suddenly clapped him on the back, saying, “Happy birthday, bro. I wasn’t sure if I should show up or whatever, but when your mom called to make sure I was still coming, I was pumped.”
“My mom?”
“She arranged the whole thing, dude.”
The two of them quickly sat down, Anika sandwiched awkwardly between Gael and Mason. Gael wanted to explain that his mom had no idea what had happened between them—and that any calls from her absolutely did not have his blessing—but he couldn’t exactly say anything with everyone there at the table.