Sarah opened the door and was shocked to see a delivery person holding a huge arrangement of yellow roses and a basket on his arm.
"Sarah Williams?"
"That's me."
"If you'll sign here."
After she signed her name, she traded the clipboard for the flowers and basket. "Thank you."
She sat the vase and basket down on her coffee table and Frank immediately jumped up there to investigate. "Did you send these?" she asked the cat jokingly.
"Meow?"
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
She had already gotten flowers from her editor and publisher, so she couldn't imagine who sent these. She very seriously doubted any of her family members had remembered her birthday. In fact, the last time her dad had even called her was over a year ago and based on the conversation she rather thought he had dialed her number by accident.
She plucked the card from the flowers and opened the envelope.
"Happy Birthday, my Champion. I hope you enjoy your day. I'm sure you have plans with your friends and family tonight, but please allow me to take you out to dinner to celebrate next week.
Best wishes,
Jareth"
Sarah sat down heavily on the couch and stared at the two dozen yellow roses. How was it that her editor and her childhood bogeyman were the only people that cared enough to send her flowers on her 40th birthday? How had Jareth even known that it was her birthday or that yellow roses were her favorite? And "best wishes" indeed. Apparently, Jareth couldn't do anything nice without getting a little dig in as well.
Her attention was drawn to Frank, who was digging through the tissue paper in the basket and attempting to sit in it. She pulled the cat out and investigated the contents herself. It contained a bottle of very nice champagne, a box containing a dozen macarons from her favorite cafe, and a box of chocolates from the amazing chocolatier they discovered last week on one of their wanderings around the city.
As soon as the basket was empty of it's contents, Frank immediately commandeered it as his new bed.
Sarah rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the box of chocolates. She couldn't stop herself from eating one of the chocolates immediately and she sighed in delight at the decadent morsel. The slight kick of the pepper in the Mexican Chocolate truffle was divine.
Then she got up and grabbed her phone.
"Umm, hello?" A very groggy sounding voice answered the phone. Of course, Jareth would still be asleep at this time of the morning. He ran a nightclub after all.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'll call you back later."
"No, it's alright, Sarah. What can I do for you?" She heard him groan as if he was stretching and she tried very hard to not imagine him delightful disheveled in bed. Thinking such things would not help the dreams she occasionally still had about him.
"Nothing. I just wanted to thank you for the flowers and the gift basket."
"Oh, that's right. Happy Birthday, my dear." She heard the click of his lighter and his deep inhalation as he had his first cigarette of the day.
"The roses are really beautiful. Thank you so much for thinking of me."
"Of course. How could I not?"
"And I'd love to have dinner with you. How's Tuesday?"
"Splendid."
"Thank you again, Jareth."
"Have a wonderful birthday."
"I will. Goodbye."
She sat and stared at her phone a moment trying to block out the image in her mind's eye. That of a bare-chested, tousled haired, drowsy eyed Goblin King laying in twisted sheets having an after sex cigarette. She would really be much better off if she wasn't so attracted to him. And it was so much harder to ignore her attraction when he was so nice to her.
After she got off the phone with Jareth, she made her way to her publisher's office. She had lunch with her editor and then spent the afternoon going through the cards and birthday wishes that had been sent by her fans. It never failed to touch her heart that so many strangers thought enough of her and her books that they went to such effort to wish her a happy birthday.
It also left her feeling a little resentful that her own relatives made no effort whatsoever. If she was honest with herself she knew it was partly her own fault as well. She and her stepmother never gotten along even after the extra effort Sarah tried to put into their relationship after she ran the Labyrinth. After college, she had deliberately distanced herself from them, knowing she would get no encouragement from her father and stepmother in pursuing her dreams of writing. It was so much easier just to avoid the inevitable awkwardness and potential conflict all together.
But there was a part of her that despite everything still craved her family's attention and affection.
Sarah glared at her phone.
She would not call Jareth and ask him to dinner tonight instead of Tuesday.
She would not let him know that she was so pathetic that she didn't have big plans for her 40th birthday.
In previous years (and after her friends had gotten married, started breeding, and moving to the suburbs), she had sometimes gone out by herself and gotten drunk enough not to feel self conscious about dancing and let loose.
Sometimes she had even been drunk enough to bring someone home and have depressingly bad sex with them.
That did not sound appealing anymore. There were other things she found more pleasurable now.
She picked up her phone and dialed her favorite Thai restaurant and ordered some spring rolls and drunken noodles for dinner.
Then she took the bottle of champagne out the refrigerator and carefully popped the cork. She didn't bother with a glass, instead taking a swig out of the bottle.
"Don't judge me," she told Frank, who was sitting in his new basket and giving her a look of feline condescension. "For my will is strong and I don't need anyone to make me happy."
