Happy Birthday (2 page)

“This is really good,” I told Doug, who on other occasions would joke that everything he does is good. This time, however, he looked... nervous. Not the bad kind of nervous, the good kind. Almost like when he was to start a new project: excited, but apprehensive about the outcome.

He looked at me in a way that turned me on and made me curious at the same time.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I will drop this tray on the floor and attack you.

“That is tempting, but I think you need to eat and look better at what you’ve got there.” He grabbed a toast, put some eggs on top of it and give me to bite.

After I had eaten everything, even some strawberries after the toast, I cleaned my mouth with a napkin and stared him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Doug...”

He licked his lips, as I always do, and messed my hair with his hand.

Smiling, he nodded at the tray.

“I’m not eating until you fucking tell me what’s wrong.”

“Shit, K, you’re awful when people try to surprise you.” He shook his head and took the silver cover atop the other plate.

“What. The. Fuck. What the hell does that mean?”

Doug gave me that crooked smile I loved so much and hold the little red velvet box on his hands, and then opened it.

“Exactly what you’re thinking,” he sighed. “I know I’ve been asking this for some time, and your answer is always the same: no. Last time you asked me why. Maybe I didn’t know the answer back then, we were always together. But now I know that... I don’t feel complete without you, and anywhere I go, as long as I have you by my side, I’m happy. I love you, I really do. And it’s not the kind of love we see nowadays, where you meet someone and, after some minutes, these words came out your mouth as if you were saying hi. It’s the kind of love we need to conquer, day by day, and we do. I love you with all your quirks and foibles, with your not-so-affectionate way of showing you feel the same.” He hold my hand and stared me in the eyes. “I understand that you won’t be able to wear it all the time, you’ll need to take it off for the movies, events, shoots, and whatever, but I thought a simple little chain wouldn’t hurt, and you could hide it, depending on the clothes you had to wear.” He took a little white gold chain, extremely thins, and having a ring instead of a pendant. Simple, no gem, no glam. Just a ring.

I forced my finger to move and take the ring, and only then I could read the inscription inside:
Will you marry me?

“Douglas...”

“The last years were the best of my life, all because you were a part of it, of my routine. Will you marry me, and just to be more cliché, make me an even happier man?”

Cliché. Our lives were full of it, but if there was a moment that could not be named cliché, that was it. I was good with words when I needed to work, characters, campaigns... However, I was as terrible at talking about my personal life – when I did – as I was at showing how much someone was important to me. He knew me so well that he understood that. And I loved how much opposites we were in that area.

“Yes, yes, I will marry you,” I said without thinking or hesitating. “I can say the same about my last years. Having you by my side...” I sighed, softly touching my lips on his. “Made everything more special, more alive.”

“I love you,” he said and hugged me. My small body fitting perfectly against his.

I kissed his neck while he placed the ring around my... neck.

“Do you think we have some time before they start coming, because...” I moved my legs around his, making our bodies one. “I think I want to celebrate my birthday with my fiancé, and there is a very good, enjoyable way of doing it...”

“Oh, yeah?” he smiled with that naughty face. “I think we got one or two hours before the invasion...

It no longer mattered how much time I was away from him, without feeling his deep breath on my neck when we sleep together, without feeling his body against mine. Nothing mattered now that everything was close to me.

––––––––

I
love my job and wouldn’t change it for anything – maybe just for music... – but all the media’s attention on my personal life drove me upset and grumpy. That’s why my last few days at home, in peace, were the best.

After many shootings, tight schedule, little time to sleep and be with my love, staying home was everything I wanted. However, that reminded me that her schedule was as busy as mine, and that she probably wouldn’t be here to celebrate my birthday together.

Well, that’s what FaceTime is for, after all.

When I was working, I used to wake up early or not even sleep, but since I was on ‘vacation’ for more than one month, ten in the morning was too early to be out of bed. Still, my cell phone had already rung a few times, and I was sure the calls were from Tim, Mike, and James wanting to annoy the fuck out of me.

James was in LA for what... the tenth time this year? He used to make regular visits when Kirs and I had not gone to London, but ever since he and Suz started a somewhat confuse relationship, he’s been showing up much more frequently, always giving the excuse to be visiting me, of course, even though he spent the whole time in her shadow. It’s impossible to understand the mind of someone in love... I’m not sure I understand even mine.

After getting up, saying good morning to the dogs, feeding them, and going to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and ran my hand through my hair, now long enough to pull, just the way I liked it.

When my phone rang again, I was already turning on the coffee machine, trying to do a decent coffee.

I took it off the kitchen counter, where I had left it after leaving the bedroom, and smiled like a fucking fool when I saw her name on the screen.

“Hey, baby.”

“Happy birthday!” she said, happily, but following up with a groan particular to when she was not happy with something. “I wanted so much to be with you today.”

“I know,” I took a deep breath, “but I understand, it’s work.”

I really understood. As tiresome as a successful actor’s career could be, for us there was nothing more rewarding than completing a project and giving it to public. This was something without neither of us could live.

“Argh, you’re so comprehensive that is annoying sometimes!” She paused, then sighed heavily and started talking again. “But that’s not why I’ve called.” She sighed again. “Doug, go out tonight, ok? I know the guys are there, Lana, Court, and BJ will stop by for sure, too, so don’t spend the night sleeping, ok?”

“It’s not like I was waiting for your permission, of course, but thank you, anyway.”

“Asshole. I miss you...”

“Me too. Two weeks to go?”

“And a half.” Somebody called her from the distance. “I have to go. We’re starting to shoot the commercial. I’ll text you throughout the day and we agree on a time to Skype or FaceTime.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then she hung up.

That was Kirsten, and she could be much more emotive texting than calling. I guess I can be like that too, sometimes. We prefer to show our love through gestures, looks. We speak a lot more to each other when we hold hands than we would by chatting on the phone for one hour.

I could say that everything was fine, that I would have fun today, but we both knew that would be a lie. I would put a fucking smile on my face, would be friendly, and would celebrate with my family in the afternoon and my friends in the evening, but my body, my mind, and my soul would be with her.

When Mike, Tim, and James arrived, not long after Kirsten’s call, making a lot of noise and already playing with the dogs, I knew they were sent to keep me busy and avoid thinking about the person I wanted to see the most and the only one who would not be with me today.

But the conversations ended up on her all the time.

“So, are we going to Coachella this year?”

“I am, but K can’t go.”

“Work?” James asked, running his fingers through the guitar strings, not creating any melody. Tim and Mike were in the kitchen, attacking the leftovers of the scrambled eggs
I
had made for
my
breakfast.

“Yeah, busy schedule for most of the year.”

“You two are full of work, but that’s good, right?” he calmly asked.

“Yeah, but our schedules are out of synch. Things will get better in the middle of the year, at least for a while, but... God, how I miss her. And it’s worse now that...

“Now that...” Mike went on when I cut myself, seating comfortably next to James, with his mouth full of something I’d rather not know.

“We were supposed to tell you together, but... I proposed to her.”

“For real? Hell, finally!” Tim said, being the only one ‘married’ among ourselves and completely satisfied about it.

“Yes. I really think that I...
we
should take that step.”

“My little brother wanting to go ball and chain...” James mocked me, but soon got serious again. “Are you happy?”

“Absolutely! More than happy. She is... everything to me.”

The three men stayed quiet for some time. I couldn’t tell for sure if one of them – except for Tim – had ever had a relationship like ours.

“You two are great together,” Mike finally said, taking all of us from the trance in our minds. “And about the distance and the whole ‘missing each other’ thing, maybe it’s good to keep the relationship
hot
.” Tim laughed, muttering something like “more than usual?”

“I think we’ve already been through this stage of needing some time alone so that relationship doesn’t get dull somehow. Yes, the sex after we don’t see each other for a long time is great...” I whispered, as if I was confessing a crime, and James nodded. “...but I would rather have her by my side every day than have amazing sex every two months.

“I understand you, man. Sometimes I just want to get Suz on my arms, take her with me during tours, have her as our muse or something, and make her appear in all our clips.”

Tim laughed.

“So, you’re really together, like, for real?” I asked James, trying to move the focus from Kirsten and my birthday.

“You mean ‘exclusively’ with each other? Well, yeah. In the beginning, it was just something for the times I was here, but then we started a sort of agreement when she went to London to see me.

“This is something I had never imagined... You and that mad Suzanne.”

“Neither had I... I guess she’s the madness I needed in my life. And hey, you and K are now matchmakers or something, after all, some of your best friends are together, like, really together, and you made it possible...” he said the last part of the sentence exactly as I had said to him.

“And who said you’re my best friend?”

“Fuck, man. Don’t kill my vibe.”

We all laughed.

Among conversations about relationship, Tim’s daughter, and Mike’s singlehood, the guys were able to entertain me for some time, preventing my mind to go back to Kirsten, and I felt like a teenager again, as I always did when the four of us were alone, talking shit and discussing completely trivial subjects.

Soon after lunch, when Mike and I were singing while James played the guitar and Tim simply watched, my parents arrived.

“Mom...” I protested when I saw the number of plastic bags she and dad had in their arms.

“Hush! Today is the day your mom has to spoil you,” she said, dropping everything on the kitchen counter, coming to hug me right after. “Happy birthday, poppet.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Then she said quietly all those things mothers use to say on birthdays. When she finished, after I had agreed to everything and had kissed her nose, as she had kissed mine, she turned, looking at Mike, James, and Tim in the kitchen.

“Oh, hello, boys. How about some little help to unload the car?”

“Sure, aunt.”

That reminded me once again of the old times in London, when the four of us were a constant in my parent’s kitchen and she used to exploit us to pick up the groceries or kick us out before we started swearing.

I shouldn’t be, but I was astonished to see the amount of food she had bought as they came and went several times to take everything inside.

“Well, I’d bring you whisky if I didn’t know better, so...” my father got closer and raised a pack of Heineken, putting it on the counter.

While my mother was openly sentimental, my father was more reserved, and his changing a good whisky for beer was his way of showing he’d do anything for me. Maybe it was a British thing, maybe it was his family thing, but he was like that,
I
was like that.

“Happy birthday, son.” I stepped forward, hugging him before he had time to do it himself.

“Thanks, dad.” He patted my back and then walked away, helping my mother to finish bringing everything.

English, in general, are very attached to their families, and it was not different for me, so I thanked the fact that my parents had flown from London to Los Angeles just to spend the afternoon with me, still, a part of me was missing.

My mom had baked a cake, the same she’d do every year, and one of my favorites. While we were eating, I sat down on the floor, next to the dogs.