Close Encounters of a Hot Priest Kind
Another birthday, another year older. Somehow this year doesn't fill me with the need to get drunk out of my mind and have hot meaningless sex with a stranger. I'm certainly another year wiser which is new and less likely to leave me hating myself in the morning.
It's a work day but when you work for yourself every day is a work day. Claire phones to wish me happy birthday and warns me that Godmother had made me something hideous as a gift. Wonderful. Something else I have to hide away only to bring out when she and Dad visit. Thankfully that isn't too often. Unfortunately that means today is the day for that visit.
I now actually have a room dedicated to the collection of so called art she keeps gifting me. There's too many pieces to shove in a cupboard. Now when she asks when one specific piece is, I just tell her it's in the room I've turned into an art gallery. She's no idea I tell everyone else it's the linen cupboard.
Aging doesn't bother me. I think I look pretty good considering how I used to live my life. Besides, I can't look too shabby considering I almost stole a hot priest from God. Also got me banned from church. Just when I was interested in attending.
My morning goes quietly enough but around lunch time, just in time for the rush, the most enormous bunch of flowers arrived. The card just says 'Happy Birthday'. There no mention of the sender. I know they're not from Dad and Godmother because they are tasteful. Claire would have put her name on the card. They are beautiful.
Not going to lie, I'm flattered. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble. It's also a little creepy. Why wouldn't someone want to take credit for them? I have customers so I can't dwell on it for long.
Then Dad and Godmother show up a couple hours later with a child. Please tell me the kid isn't my birthday present. If I have a kid, I want to either push one out after nine months so I can blame my big butt and hips that I will no doubt have, on it. Or I want to adopt one. A child was not on the list of things I want for my birthday. Not that Godmother ever cares what I want.
"The café seemed to be doing well Dear." That's good Dad. Keep to short sentences.
"Thanks Dad. You seem to have a child attached to you." Although I'd take the kid over one of Godmother's works of art any day.
"What?" He's forgotten the kid. "Oh, no. We adopted a child" Why? And does he know if it is a boy, a girl or are with going with gender neutral? "This is Riley." Gender neutral it is.
"Nice to meet you." Poor child. "Can I get you anything?" A way out of this family perhaps. God knows the rest of us are always looking for a way out.
"Oh no. They've just eaten." Godmother's carrying a large box which is not a good sign. "We just stopped by to drop this off." Yes, unfortunately it is for me. "Well open it."
Oh do I really have to. I open the box and sure enough it's the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Another one for the linen closet. "Oh you shouldn't have." Seriously, she shouldn't have.
"I was thinking of you as I was creating it." It shows. She and I have never thought highly of each other and now I have proof of that in the form of a bust.
"Well, thank you." I should've been an actress with the performance I'm putting on.
"What lovely flowers. Who are they from?" Of course she notices the flowers. Clearly they are from someone who has taste so definitely not her.
"I don't know." Certainly not you. Even though I don't know who sent the flowers, I feel quite protective of them. It's weird I know, but someone put some thought into them. And I don't mean the same passive aggressive thoughts that Godmother clearly put into whatever that thing in the box is."
"Well, we should be going." Dad's timing is improving. Normally Godmother and I are seconds away from slapping each other before he thinks of leaving. He slips me an envelope without her seeing and ushers her and my new sibling out the door. Best birthday gift ever from Dad.
At least Dad hasn't given me a certificate for a shrink this year. There's a couple hundred quid and a card which I imagine my father thinks is amusing. Still, thanks for the money Dad.
As far as birthdays are concerned, this has been one of the better ones. I take my flowers home with me, still none the wiser at who has sent them. They certainly brighten up the flat though.
Right now I'm torn between being grateful that Dad and Godmother haven't invited me over for a birthday dinner and trying to work out what I can claim to have left there so I can take some of Godmother's monstrous gifts over to hide in the attic.
When I get home I realise the 'linen closet' is full and I need to find somewhere else for my birthday present. I should have known I'd have this problem when she gave me the life size statue in her own image last Christmas. Luckily it looks nothing like her and I sometimes use it when I need to hold a door open. It's even fun putting it behind the door and shoving the door open so it hits it repeatedly. I may have to look into getting a storage unit though.
Just as I'm about to settle in for the night with a glass of wine and a romantic comedy, my doorbell rings. I doubt it's Dad as it's seldom I see him twice in one day. Claire is still in Finland and ever since the whole thing with Hot Priest; I've been more content with my own company. So I guess it's just some Jehovah Witnesses.
Nope. It's Hot Priest. How is this fair? I can't go to his house or even God's house where he hangs out, but he can show up here. On my birthday.
"Happy Birthday." And he knows it's my birthday. Wait. How does he know it's my birthday? Why is he still so hot?
"Thank you. Who told you?" I doubt it's in the church newsletter which I have a subscription to but haven't read lately.
"Claire told me." He still speaks to Claire? "Did the flowers arrive?" The flowers are from him? Actually that makes sense. No wonder there was no name on the card. No wonder they're gorgeous.
"I did. Thank you. They're beautiful." They're even more beautiful now I know who they are from. "Did you want to come in?" Happy Birthday to me.
"Are you sure?" I can restrain myself if he can.
"Yeah." He seems nervous. "Did you want a drink?" Not that I have much. I've stopped keeping a lot of alcohol in the flat. Turns out I don't need it.
"That would be great. Have you had a good birthday?" Small talk in my kitchen. That's new. And he smells so good. It's weird I know but he's standing so close.
"I have." I actually have. "Unfortunately Godmother gave me another piece of her art as a gift but other than that it's been a good day." Maybe he can sneak it into their attic.
"It can't be that bad." He sees where I left the box open while trying to figure out where to hide it. "Oh wow. Well look at it this way, it's sure to scare any intruders away and you can use it as decoration at Halloween."
"Never thought of it that way." I open the door to the 'linen cupboard'. "Do you think I could sell all this as a home intrusion preventer?" I could actually start a side business.
"Seriously what did you ever do to that woman apart from refuse to call her Mum?" I've managed to shock Hot Priest.
"So she's mentioned that has she?" Not surprising. Although neither is my refusal to call her Mum. I wonder if that's why they adopted.
"Only every Sunday." There's that adorable smirk of his. Bet he's wishing he had banned her from church. "Did you have plans? Am I interrupting?" He actually looks panicked at the thought.
"No, I don't really do that anymore." Nobody else could live up to him anyway.
Watching a romantic movie with Hot Priest platonically. Who would have thought? He holds my hand when it looks as though the couple of the screen are going to break up. This is nice. Don't get me wrong, I totally want to jump him. But it's also great being yourself with someone who doesn't judge you.
"Happy Birthday." Yeah, this is enough. For now.