Chapter 11, part 2.
Despite the relative shortness of the mission, the following briefing was long and extremely detailed. They'd decomposed almost every word and move into prime factors, looking for ways they could've done it better. To Alice's relief—despite what she had said to Rodriguez, she was a little worried how her actions would be construed—Carter didn't question her decision to take the bandits' valuables. Upon hearing Alice's motivation, she agreed immediately that it was the right thing to do.
"This is less of a military action than a law enforcement one," she commented, unwittingly repeating Alice's earlier argument to Rodriguez. "Or perhaps intelligence operation would be the best description. I'm afraid you're both gonna have to do more things like that in the course of this mission in order to keep your cover."
"Yes, ma'am," Alice replied for herself and Rodriguez and they went back to analyzing every step of the operation.
Once the briefing was over, Alice sent her team members home, telling them to get some rest and produce their reports the next morning. She stayed at the base, though, to have a first look at the Ori weapon and the Ancient shield emitter—and also to avoid Deanna at home. She slept in her quarters and went right back to work in the morning, and by late afternoon the next day she had both artifacts working.
"The shield emitter didn't need activation after all, it was just broken," she reported to Carter a little later. "It's interesting—it's definitely a newer model than the one we found on Atlantis, but it has no ATA gene recognition. My theory is that it was constructed by some Ancient after they'd abandoned Atlantis, and since they were here, where tech falling into Wraith hands was no longer a risk, they just omitted that part of the design."
"And the Ori wrist stunner?" Carter asked, splitting her attention between Alice and a stack of paperwork on her desk.
"Just a wiring problem." Alice shrugged. "I took it apart, fixed the wires, put it back together, and it works perfectly. If it were the crystal or the power generation unit, that would take more time, but this was easy."
"Good for you," the general replied, scribbling something down furiously.
Alice raised her eyebrows. "Ma'am, do you need some help?"
Carter looked up at her with a smirk. "Not from you." And she wagged her finger at her. "You are going home. Don't think I don't know that you've spend every night here since Monday. You really need to rest up."
Alice sighed. "Yes, ma'am. I'm going back to L.A. tomorrow morning anyway."
"Visiting your brother? How's he feeling, anyway?" Carter leaned back over her papers.
"He's doing well, thank you, ma'am. But no, this time I'm going to my godson's birthday party. I promised I'd go in a moment of weakness," she added with a smile.
"Hah! Good, at least I won't need to worry you're gonna be sneaking back into the SGC this weekend," the general replied with a censuring look at her subordinate.
Alice hoped her expression was adequately contrite, but didn't reply.
Carter shook her head and waved at her. "Alright, now go home. I'll see you on Monday."
"Yes, ma'am—have a good weekend."
Carter nodded in reply and Alice stood up and headed off. With a direct order, she didn't really have much wiggle room, but nevertheless she stopped by her lab to close down her computer, lock away all the documents and the artifacts she had worked on, and generally make sure the room was clean and tidy. Then she changed into civvies and finally left the base and went home.
It was already dark when she drove into the garage. Deanna's car was there already, and Alice had seen the light in the living room window, which meant that there was little chance of going unnoticed by her roommate. And indeed, Alice merely walked in when Deanna emerged from the room into the hallway, wearing old sweats and still somehow managing to look like a fashion model.
"Hi," she said shyly, watching Alice put the keys into the bowl on top of the chest of drawers.
"Hi," Alice replied, working to get voice steady. "How's it going?"
"Okay." Deanna sighed. "Alice, are you avoiding me now?"
Alice stopped in her tracks, blindsided by the directness of the question. "Of course not," she lied.
"Feels like you are. You haven't been home in a week…"
"I was real busy at work." She forced herself to look Deanna in the eyes. "I told you, I have a new assignment and it's just consuming all my time now."
"Okay, I—I see," Dee stammered. "It's just that—you said you still wanted to be friends…"
She looked so miserable that Alice suddenly felt the urge to scream. Perfect—now she was hurting Deanna, the gentlest soul to ever walk the Earth, and her one and only crime was that she had a crush on Alice…
"I do," she reassured her earnestly, and then hesitated. Deanna was being vulnerable and honest—didn't she deserve a little truth in return? "It is a little… awkward."
Dee exhaled and nodded. "Do you think it'll get any less awkward if you keep avoiding me?" She asked, once again betraying a level of shrewdness she usually hid under her bubbly, spirited persona.
Alice sighed. "Probably not," she admitted. "I'm sorry, Dee—I'll try to do better."
"I don't want you to feel beholden to me in any way," Deanna said quickly. "I just… I miss hanging out with you."
Why? Alice wanted to ask. She was such a poor companion lately—always lost in her thoughts, flying into a rage at every minor inconvenience, and perpetually covered in a dark cloud of bad emotions, it was a wonder that anyone would want to hang out with her. She didn't even want to hang out with herself.
"Yeah, me too," she replied instead, because it was true: Deanna never failed to raise her spirits, her innate positivity a perfect antidote to Alice's darkness. "But… I am going to L.A. this weekend," she confessed.
"Oh."
"It's Ike's second birthday, and they're doing some sort of a party for him, and I promised Aaron I'd go—" she rushed to explain.
"It's okay," Deanna assured her. "Perfectly understandable. Don't worry about it."
"I'll be coming back Sunday afternoon, we can hang out in the evening," Alice affirmed. "Pick out a movie—just not science-fiction again, please."
Dee smiled, and it was closer to her normal sunny beam. "I would've thought you of all people would like it."
"I'd like it if there were a little more science to the fiction," Alice quipped, responding with a tentative smile as well.
"Alright, I'll pick something else," the girl agreed magnanimously.
"I should go get some sleep, I have a very early flight…" Alice said, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.
"Have you eaten already?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You really should eat something." Deanna looked at her with an expression that clearly said look at yourself—skin and bones.
Alice sighed. She was getting tired of everyone always saying that, but she capitulated and followed Deanna into the kitchen.
That night even the combo of Benadryl and whiskey didn't help Alice fall asleep. The day marked ten years since her commission to officer, and in another life it would've been her last day in service. The weight of everything that could have been—that would have been, if she had not fucked it all up so royally—crashed into her with the force of a Sputnik falling down from the sky. She spent the entire night looking into space with unseeing eyes, oscillating between gasping for air between quiet sobs and feeling too numb for tears. She got up long before dawn's first light, and walked into the shower; she stood under the hot torrents for almost an hour, counting her breaths, focusing on the air coming in and out of her lungs, until nothing else existed and she finally felt herself relax a little.
It was still pitch-black when she went out for a run. She ran farther and pushed herself more than usual, the pain of muscles contracting in protest and the breath burning in her lungs a welcome reminder that she was, in fact, still alive—and real. Upon returning she took another long shower, and then came down into the kitchen, but her stomach revolted at the mere idea of food, so she merely drank a cup of coffee and then got into her car and left. The streets were empty and dark as she drove through the city, and she was halfway to Denver when the first light appeared on the horizon.
The flight was delayed by almost half an hour, and after landing Alice first headed towards the Toy District to buy a gift for little Ike. It took some time to find the perfect one, and so she only arrived home around one in the afternoon. As always, her mom was beyond delighted to see her daughter and already had a hot lunch cooking on the stove, so by the time Alice freshened up and came down, it was ready to be served.
"You look better," Alice told Jake a while later, after they'd finished eating and moved to the garden table out back while their mother cleaned up—she didn't let them help. When Alice saw Jake last, two weeks prior, he was still rather pale and only made deliberate, careful movements; now his normal color seemed to be back, and he also moved much more effortlessly, though she sometimes still saw a shadow of a grimace on his face when he needed to twist or bend his body.
"I feel better," he acknowledged, and then immediately admonished: "You, on the other hand, look like crap."
She rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."
"Bad night?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
"More like a bad year," she murmured so low that he couldn't have heard, and then added louder: "Yeah, I didn't really get much sleep."
He nodded, as if it was quite understandable. "And how did the mission go?" He asked conspiratorially.
Alice turned around to check if their mother was still inside the house. "Actually, it went pretty well," she said proudly and proceeded to recount the story.
"You actually said that?" Jake asked with amusement when she finished. "Tell your friends not to fuck with Nova Ray?"
Alice laughed, embarrassed. "Yeah, it sort of slipped out unbidden."
"Well, I bet Rodriguez thought it was very badass of you," he teased.
"Carter was slightly less impressed," Alice admitted with another flustered chuckle.
"But, aside from that little Rambo-esque remark, I gotta admit, not bad for your first undercover op," he praised with a smirk. "Wasn't exactly Lucian Alliance level yet, but good on you for starting slow."
"That was the idea," she agreed. "I have to say, I was really impressed with Rodriguez. I had been worried, you know, he's so young—but he really did inhabit his character and outperformed my expectations."
"Sounds like a good kid." Alice saw Jake's eyes flick to the side and his face changed in a subtle way, adopting a slightly reassuring look he always used when talking to their mom. "Hey, all done?"
Alice turned around to see Eileen walk out onto the deck with a tray bearing a pitcher of water and three glasses.
"All done. Here, let's get a drink and then we should go get changed. At this time it'll take us a better part of an hour to get to Aaron's," she warned, putting the tray on the table and taking a seat beside her children.
They accepted the drink and picked up a lighter conversation, steering clear of any topic related to their work.
It was a little after five in the afternoon when they arrived at the house Aaron still shared with Sarah. The host himself opened the door and let them in, at the same time apologizing for the number of guests.
"I know I said it would just be family and friends," he told Alice as they walked into the living room which looked packed with people. "And that was the plan, but Sarah decided to invite some additional people without consulting me first. It's her movie crowd, as she calls them—producers, directors, actors. I guess even our son's birthday party is a networking opportunity for her." The bitterness in his voice was palpable.
"Maybe they're her friends?" Alice suggested quietly. "You know, the band and us, we're really your friends. It's only fair that she should have some of hers here, too."
He glared at her unhappily. "Don't ruin my outrage with your logic!"
Alice smirked and shook her head, but didn't say anything because Mrs. Starr came up to them with Ike in her arms, and they immediately shifted all their attention to the birthday boy. Alice felt a little bit of selfish satisfaction when he chose to reach out to her with his plump little hands, demanding to be held.
"Happy birthday, Ikey!" She said into his ear and he giggled. "How are you doing today?"
"I got pwesents!" He informed her happily, pointing at a large stack of packages on the coffee table. Then his chubby face turned tragic. "Daddy don't let me open!"
"We'll open them later, Ikey," Aaron told him with a smile, and then addressed the adults: "I want to spread it over a few days so it doesn't overwhelm him."
Alice grinned mischievously and pulled her own present from a canvas bag on her shoulder. "Bad daddy!" She said, throwing Aaron an amused look and walking away. "Here's another present for you, Ikey—how about we sneak away from daddy and open it together now?"
Ike clapped his little hands. "Yes, yes, open pwesents!"
"Traitor," Aaron called after her, but he was laughing.
She stopped in the middle of the room, deposited Ike on the sofa, sat down next to him and helped him rip the decorative paper off the package, and then opened it and showed the toy to him.
"Do you know what this is, Ikey?" She asked, putting it in his hands.
"Plane!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Vwoom!" He waved it in the air, and, to the boy's utter delight, it flashed with colorful lights. He laughed, moving his hand this way and that, up and down, and the lights flickered randomly, eliciting more laughter.
"That's a wonderful present," Aaron said from behind them and Alice looked up at him with a smile. "What do we say when we are grateful, Ike? Ikey!"
The boy was too enthralled with the toy to notice at first, but he finally caught his dad's words and cried aloud, without even looking at Alice: "Thank you, Auntie Allie!"
She chuckled. "You're welcome, Ikey."
But the boy was already slipping down from the sofa and running away with the plane, making delighted vwoom sounds all the way.
"I better go after him before he flies that plane into someone," Aaron said, amused. "Thanks for the gift, Allie. Very apt."
She got up and turned to face him. "Yeah I thought about giving him a ride in an F-16, but there's just too many bureaucratic hoops to jump," she quipped.
"I'm afraid I would steal that gift from him." Aaron smiled back, but his eyes strayed to another part of the room. "Listen, there's drinks at the bar over there and some food on the tables outside, help yourself—I need to look after Ike."
"Sure, Aaron, thanks." She watched him stride off purposefully and then turned to look at the room and headed towards Jake, who stood a little to the side, for the moment alone, just watching the crowd. On her way, she exchanged smiles and nods with people she knew—Zach and Chiyo were there, Curtis and Ian, both with plus-ones she didn't recognize so must have been new in their lives, Aaron's cousin Rachel and her husband whose name Alice hadn't caught the first time she'd met him and now it was too awkward to ask; but there were also many people she didn't know, all looking splendid and decidedly overdressed for a kid's birthday party.
"You okay?" She asked Jake as she approached.
"Yeah, yeah—I was just watching you play with Ike. You know you look like a completely different person when you interact with him, right?"
She raised her eyebrows. "In what way? Am I sprouting a second head or something?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean—your whole face just lights up, like there's nothing that could delight you more than talking to him."
"Oh, that," she acknowledged. "I don't really know—I mean, I find myself overcome with the need to grin like a crazy person every time I see a small child, or a puppy, or a kitten, or something else cute like that. It's probably atavistic." She shrugged.
"Well, it's nice to see you smile with genuine, untainted pleasure for once," he noted offhandedly. She didn't like the implication, although she knew he was right: these days, even when she did smile, it was often forced or wistful.
"I'm gonna grab a drink—you want something?"
"Yeah, why not—a beer?"
She nodded and walked away towards the bar. It was manned by a bartender in an all-white outfit whose services for this one evening probably cost more than Alice's weekly wages. She got a beer for Jake and a martini for herself, but by the time she got back to where she had left her brother, he was nowhere to be seen; she had to look around for a minute before she spotted him among a small group of people, three of them strangers. She sighed deeply and approached them.
"Hi," she said shyly, handing the beer to Jake.
"Oh, Alice, how wonderful for you to join us!" The only other person in the group whom Alice knew greeted her enthusiastically: Sarah in the flesh, looking as gorgeous as ever in a black mini dress, showing off her perfect long legs. "Guys, this is Jake's little sister, Alice. Alice, these are my friends and colleagues: Marc Tolliver, he's our producer, Donovan Cole, director, and my lovely co-star, Jameson Oliver."
They all extended their arms and Alice shook them one by one, exchanging smiles, already tired of the inane conversation that was sure to ensue.
"So, you're both Aaron's friends?" The burly forty-five-year old man with just a few strands of grey in his brown hair, Donovan Cole, asked.
"Yes, sir, we grew up on the same street and went to the same schools," Jake replied casually.
"Jake was part of the band back in high school," Alice added, taking a sip of her martini and throwing her brother a significant look. You joined this group, you make the effort to talk.
"Oh, really? Why'd you left?" The actor asked curiously. He was the youngest of the three, thirty-something, and the most stereotypically handsome: with chiseled body, perfectly styled dark hair and pretty blue eyes, it was clear he took pride in his look and worked for it. Standing next to Sarah, they looked like a perfect couple from a movie poster; which, Alice realized, was exactly right. She racked her brain, trying to remember the name of the movie they were turning, or if she'd ever seen Oliver in anything else, but nothing came to mind. She only recalled that the premise of the movie was supposed to be about star-crossed lovers trying to survive an apocalyptic event. Having seen what a real apocalypse looked like, Alice decided she'd rather not watch its fictional version anyway.
At that moment, Sarah put a hand on her co-star's shoulder and whispered something to his ear. Then she smiled at them all. "Would you all excuse me, there's something I need to do," she said and quickly retreated from the group. Jameson Oliver cleared his throat, and repeated his question to Jake.
"Just decided to take a different path in life," he answered, shrugging. "While Aaron and the guys went on to college, I decided I didn't have an inclination to stay in school for four more years, so instead I enlisted in the Marine Corps."
"Oooh, you were a Marine?" The producer perked up, as if it was an interesting development for him. He was a few years older than the director, but there was no trace of grey in his blonde hair, and he looked like he frequented the gym regularly—which could not be said about Donovan Cole.
"Still am, sir—Gunnery Sergeant Jacob Boyd." He made a show of standing at attention for them. Alice smirked, but she caught something in his expression that made her take a second look.
"Fascinating!" Marc Tolliver exclaimed.
"Thank you for your service," the director added.
"It's my privilege to serve," Jake replied gallantly, but a strange shadow went through his face at the same time—as if he was trying very hard not to grimace.
"Jake?" Alice addressed him, furrowing her brow. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he answered, a little too quickly. "I'm fine."
"No, something's wrong, I can see it on your face. Tell me," she demanded.
"I'm fine, leave me alone!" He insisted, flapping his hand at her, annoyed.
She narrowed her eyes into little slits. "Don't lie to me. It's the first time you've been out of the house for an extended period of time and if there's something wrong, you need to tell me." She paused, and then added menacingly: "Or do I need to make that an order?"
He rolled his eyes. "I hate you," he complained, but then finally spilled the beans: "It's nothing—I've just been having a little indigestion sometimes since the thing. I shouldn't've drank the beer, that's all. You don't need to freak out on me."
She exhaled with relief. "Okay, if that's all it is, then fine. I thought you might've pulled a stitch or something…" She looked around. "Alright, home remedies for indigestion—d'you think Aaron and Sarah have peppermint tea in the house?"
"Actually—" Oliver interjected, pulling something from his pocked "—I have peppermint gum, it should help. I always carry it with me, you never know when you might need a breath refresher on the set," he added with a bright grin.
"Thank you." Jake took the offered packet of gum, and it was a testament to how uncomfortable he must have felt that he popped one without any more complaints.
"What's the thing? Why do you have stitches?" The producer asked curiously. "Injured on the job?"
"Yes, sir—just occupational risk." Jake shrugged.
"What happened?"
"Wasn't dodging bullets fast enough," he quipped, but nobody laughed. "It's nothing—I'll be back on duty soon enough."
"Not for months," Alice contradicted, her face still scrunched in a frown. "It was not nothing—you have no idea how it felt when they wheeled you into the OR…"
"Yeah, I kinda do." He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.
"That's different, I've never been this close," she protested. "And you've done it twice already." And, she knew, there was a chance that there would be a third time in a few years—but this time he would not make it… she repressed a shiver.
"Yeah, what about you? What's up with the scars?" The director asked, nodding at Alice's shoulder.
She immediately regretted wearing a halter top. "Oh, shucks, sorry, I would've put on something with long sleeves had I known I'd be meeting new people…"
"Nonsense," Tolliver dismissed it. "We're just curious. Your brother is a Marine, so it stands to reason… but… wait." He stopped, frowning. "What did you say to him? What did she say to him?" He turned to Cole.
"About what?"
"Something along the lines don't make me make it an order?" The producer shook his head. "Why would you order your brother around, he's older than you, isn't he?"
"Does being older mean I can order her around?" Jake put in, amused, but Tolliver ignored him, his eyes boring into Alice's.
"You're a soldier, too!" He accused, pointing a finger at her.
"No, sir, I'm an airman. Major Alice Boyd, US Air Force." She didn't bother making a show of standing at attention and merely sent him a confident little smile, enjoying the passing expression of shock on his face.
"Really? That's interesting," he said, his voice betraying just how interesting he found the fact. "What do you do in the Air Force?"
"I'm a computer engineer, I write self-learning sub-routines for satellites," she lied smoothly.
"How does a computer engineer get that many scars?" He asked immediately. "Your shoulder looks like a subway map, and is that a bullet wound on your arm?"
"I've done other things before this gig."
"She used to fly an F-16," Jake supplied, throwing her an amused look, and she understood it to be payback for making him spill the beans on the indigestion. She rolled her eyes at him.
"You're shitting me!" The producer exclaimed, to a murmur of assent from the other two. "You flew F-16s?"
"For a while." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm gonna see if I can infuse Ike with a little love for flying. I think it's going well so far," she added, amused, and they all looked at the toddler, who was no longer vwooming around the room, but still held onto the toy plane, even as his grandfather held him in his arms.
"You know, the next movie I'm set to produce is a war drama, and one of the main characters is a female fighter pilot," Tolliver declared, not easily distracted from what interested him. "I would love to pick your brain a little, maybe get the screenwriter and the director on it, too, and the actress when we cast her." He saw Alice's frown and added quickly: "It would be an official thing, you'd get credited as a consultant and there would be a generous remuneration for your time…"
Alice raised an eyebrow. "I'm flattered but the Air Force has people who liaise with Hollywood in such cases."
"I know, but they're PR guys, they don't know anything about the real life," he dismissed it.
"I'm sure that's not true," she tried to reason, but he ignored her protestations.
"I need someone who knows their stuff, and you can bring such a unique perspective to the table—an actual female pilot!" He shook his head disbelievingly.
The second of Alice's eyebrows joined the other on her forehead. "You say it like we're a species near extinction, but the trend goes the opposite way. The percentage share of women in the Air Force fluctuates somewhat and is actually down from the numbers in the nineties and aughts in terms of enlisted personnel, but it's still going up for active-duty officers. From the top of my head, I can't tell you how many of them are pilots, or fighter pilots in particular, but I'm quite certain the number is going up, not down."
"That may be true, but I've never met a female fighter pilot before, or found a way to connect with one—and I've tried multiple times on some previous projects," Tolliver noted. "Which is why this meeting is like fate itself intervening—the script for the movie I'm talking about is a definitive Academy Award material, and we must rise to the occasion. It would be criminal if we got the details wrong, and you could make sure that we don't!"
Alice shook her head. "I'm sorry, but the answer is still no. I'm way too busy to spend time on a movie set. I don't even like movies," she added as an afterthought.
"You don't like movies?" It was the actor who spoke up, his voice a little indignant.
"It's not that I don't like them, that was an exaggeration," Alice explained. "I can enjoy a movie night with a friend from time to time, but I'm not a connoisseur. I don't even understand what a producer or a director does on a set. Like, what does that actually mean, to direct a movie? Just telling actors where to go and when to speak?"
"Oh," Cole perked up. "No, not at all, there's much more to it!" And he launched into a description of the art of directing, and Alice sighed with relief—her diversion worked. For the next twenty minutes they discussed the intricacies of filmmaking, though Alice was aware of Tolliver continually side-eyeing her with interest.
When Aaron called for everyone to look at and listen to him and presented a huge, colorful cake with hundreds of Skittles put together to create a large number 2 on its surface, Alice welcomed the distraction. In the chaos of candle-blowing (Aaron had to help Ike in that), Happy Birthday-singing that followed, and cake-slicing so that everyone could have a piece, Alice grabbed Jake and pulled him away from their group.
"I could kill you for that if it were worth the paperwork," she told Jake after they were each given a plateful of cake.
"You deserved it," he replied, unfazed. "That was a good save, though, asking about movie stuff? Way to play into their self-centeredness."
"That's not a word," she mocked.
"Whatever. You know what I mean." He shrugged. Alice noted that he wasn't really eating, just tried a little bit of the frosting and then stood around holding the plate in the air, like he was still going to finish it. The indigestion must have still been bothering him. "Are you certain you don't want to become Tolliver's consultant, though? You could walk around the movie sets, meet some honest-to-god superstars, maybe even go to Oscars if they were really nominated? I'm sure General Carter could spare you for a few days," he teased.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm certain, thanks. I've got more important things to do than babysit a bunch of Hollywood punks who think they can know what combat is like after talking to a person for an hour."
Suddenly, there was a sound of someone clearing his throat from close behind them and Alice looked around reflexively. Marc Tolliver stood there, his eyebrows arched, and he looked at her with an odd expression.
Alice turned back to Jake, biting her lip. "Oops," she managed, trying to stifle a laugh. "I think he's heard me!"
"You're evil," Jake told her, eye-rolling at her with a smirk.
She shrugged, still with a mocking smile on her lips. "At least if he's offended, he won't want to employ me as his consultant anymore!"
Jake didn't reply, but instead pulled her towards a group of their friends, and they spent the next hour chatting happily with Zack, Curtis and Ian, and their partners: Chiyo, whom Alice already knew from the reunion (and who was now sporting an actual kimono, and looking like a million bucks in it), and Marie and Kathryn, who both turned out to be fashion models and were only dating Curt and Ian for two and three months, respectively.
Around seven o'clock the birthday boy was taken upstairs for a bath and bedtime. Alice noted that while Aaron looked after Ike, Sarah remained at the party, floating between guests and playing a joyous host.
Aaron came back down half an hour later and surprised Alice by calling for attention once again.
"Dear friends and loving family," he started after he made sure everyone was looking at him. "I wanted to thank you all for coming. Isaac has now gone to sleep, exhausted but no doubt happy. Like his parents, he's a bit of an attention-seeker," he quipped and chuckles echoed around his audience. "Nevertheless, his party today is over—but fret not, we are not kicking you out just yet!" He motioned to someone on his right and waited for a man in a white outfit—the bartender, Alice realized—to bring out another cake, this one smaller and chocolate, with two candles shaped like numbers 3 and 0 stuck into it. Seeing it, Alice felt heat spread over her cheeks. He didn't! "There is one more occasion I wanted to commemorate. One of my best friends has just turned thirty a few days ago and she refused to celebrate it then, so I thought it would be fitting if we all celebrated it together, today." He looked at Alice with a bright smile, grabbing a glass of champagne from a plate that the bartender was now quickly circulating among the audience. "Alice, this is to you—happy birthday!" And he toasted her, quickly followed by everybody in the room.
Alice raised her own glass that someone put into her hand and smiled wanly, nodding to people around. Inside her, an angry fire of betrayal raged high, and she had to work very hard not to show it. She somehow endured another rendition of Happy Birthday and clinked glasses with multiple people, accepting best wishes and gifts. It seemed like everyone but her knew this was in the works—even Jake and mom had been in on it. Alice played along for a while, but as soon as the spotlight waned away from her and everyone got back to talking in their groups, she sneaked away into the dark corridor that led outside of the house.
She almost made it out when Aaron's voice reached her from behind.
"Allie, where are you going?"
"Home," she replied, wrenching the door open with a bang and stepping over the threshold.
"Wait, Allie, what's happened?" He called, jogging up to her to stand in her way. He took in her expression and blanched. "Allie, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" She hissed through clenched teeth. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Allie…"
"I asked you not to do anything!" She spewed with cold fury. "In fact I told you, in no uncertain terms, that I didn't want a celebration of any kind, and you go on and do this?!" She waved angrily at the house. "And today of all days—and with strangers?!"
"Allie—I'm so sorry—I thought—I—" he stammered, still white as a sheet.
"Well, next time, don't", she told him, ice nearly palpable in her voice. Then she stepped around him and strode purposefully away from him, towards the road.
"Where are you going?" He called after her again, his tone concerned and contrite at the same time.
"I'll take a cab home!" She cried back, stepping onto the road and turning right. She didn't look back to see if he went back inside, and she didn't stop walking until she was fully out of the view of the house. Then she sat down on the curb and put her face in her hands, suddenly exhausted but still trembling with rage. It took her a long moment to calm down enough to find a number on her phone and actually call a cab.