Let Her Eat Cake

I missed the foreshadowing, the driver’s license, the bewildered midnight phone call, the aching bone, all a sign of the irony to befall me on the mark of my 26th year.

Walking into work two minutes early sent a rush through the estimating office. Paul glanced up with pleasant surprise and like a kid who aced the spelling test I smiled brightly. Dorky, sure, but when the two people who love you most wake you with a birthday tune perfectly pitched with adoration the day is destined for cheesy smiles.

And the birthday wishes? They poured in hurricane style, again a foreshadowing I wish I’d noticed. I did not though. I just kept smiling and laughing, occasionally dipping into the sparse workload to wrap up the week. My roommate even nailed me down with a desire for cake with my closest friends (side note: marriage sprinkles my girlfriends around the world and leaving me with a living room of boys for my party). The morning passed by blissfully.

In contrast the afternoon took me gruffly, twisting my blood pumper in the most unpredictable fashion. My boss called me into his office. He sat behind the formidable wooden desk and remarked, “It’s not a good day girl.”

It’s not? I thought. But today I’ve been loved.

“I’m going to have to let you go,” he blurts as if the news barreled from the pit of his stomach burning his throat and tongue in passing.

He continues with an econ lesson which led him to downsize drastically. I tuned out as angels sang. The pounding in my ears echoed the excitement of my heart. Freedom. I straightened in my chair and a smile tiptoed across my lips. I raised my eyes to look at him.

OH! My left hand flew to my collar bone. I watched the ragged intake of his shortened breath. I watched his hands stroke his temples pulling his eyes tightly long. A lone tear escaped from his left eye. Ashamed I averted my gaze unable to bear his grief. Instantly my voice filled the room consoling him in his choice.

Then my chest constricted and I wanted nothing more than the comfort of my mother’s embrace. But 750 miles is a long reach. I returned to my desk and helped Paul finish his bid before informing him that I would be leaving. I prepared to say goodbye to my work friends.

They had a chocolate cake with rows of mistletoe. A birthday cake serving dual purpose and with calm composure I scooped the ice cream the irony of the economy burning in my newly 26-year-old mind.