by J J Arias
Brunch and the bottomless bellinis continued until it was almost dinner time and the restaurant asked them to leave. Amanda was the only person in the world left alive who knew her birthday and the only one she could trust not to try and celebrate it. Even after so much therapy, celebrating it made her miss her parents too much.
Alone in her apartment and with nothing to work on, Mila picked up a book she had no real interest in and pretended to read as her thoughts drifted to George. The polls had been vacillating between single- and double-digit leads, but Mila was confident that if nothing major happened, she would win her seat again. The idea comforted her. At least the sacrifice wouldn’t be for naught, and after the election was over, they could come up with some other way to see each other more normally.
Mila checked her phone. George usually called by then. Of course today of all days she’s running late, she grumbled in a rare allowance of self-pity. She knew George was ignorant of the day’s significance by her own doing, but a part of her was still a sad woman wishing she were spending her birthday with her girlfriend who she missed.
Abandoning the book, she turned on the TV to mindlessly flip through the channels. When she settled on a rerun of The Golden Girls for some mansion nostalgia, a knock at the door roused her. What she wouldn’t give to be lying on an ugly palm frond print couch instead of her leather one.
Mila moved through the dark condo like a suspicious cat. She’d told Amanda that day drinking at brunch was all the celebration she’d allow. Every year was the same struggle. How she’d regretted ever disclosing her birth date.
Looking through the peephole, all Mila could see was a lit candle covering her view. She pulled open the door only to have her heart stop at the sight.
“Hey,” George said, a mini chocolate cupcake on her hand. The pink candle wedged inside was dripping wax as she stood in the doorway. “Happy Birthday,” she added, her big brown eyes looking like reflective pools.
“What are you doing here? Tampa . . .”
“You better make your wish before the candle goes out,” she warned with a grin without answering her question. By the bright blue suit, she guessed that she’d already attended the rally and flown back straightaway.
Mila closed her eyes as a new kind of sensation flooded her body. She was grateful for the sacrifice and for the woman standing in her doorway with a flaming baked good. She made a wish and blew out the candle before pulling George inside by the lapels and wrapping her arms around her neck.
“What did you wish for?” George asked between frantic kisses.
Mila shrugged. “Definitely not you. I got you the last time I had occasion to make wishes,” she said, thinking of the New Year’s Eve grapes a lifetime ago.
George chuckled. “God, I’ve missed you,” she said with a sigh that emanated from the depths of her soul.
“You must be exhausted,” she said before taking a bite of the cupcake and feeding George the rest. They’d hardly made it a foot from the door before their arms were around each other again.
“I can’t wait until the first Tuesday in November,” she admitted. “Is it alright that I surprised you?” she asked as she buried her face in Mila’s neck.
“Of course. I’m sorry I’ve never invited you over. I just didn’t think it was possible to take a risk like that.”
George kissed the nape of her neck. “It took some serious maneuvering, but I wanted to see you on your birthday.”
Mila pulled her up by the back of the neck. “You kept the background check?”
“Committed it to memory,” she replied with wiggling eyebrows. “Is that okay?”
Mila nodded. “Come on inside. Unless you want to stand in the foyer all night.”
George looked around her minimalist and modern design as she walked past the kitchen and into the living room. “No wonder you hated the mansion.”
“I can’t say Florida retirees and I share similar aesthetics.” She smirked. “Sit, I’ll make you a drink,” she said, pointing to the neat leather sofa.
“I don’t need a drink,” she replied, pulling her closer. “All I need is you.”
Mila melted into her arms. George’s lips were softer than she remembered, and they stole her ability to breathe as she kissed her.
“I got you a little something,” she said, reaching into her suit jacket pocket and retrieving a small blue box from a far too expensive jewelry store.
“You shouldn’t have. It means the world to me that you’re here. I don’t need a gift.” Mila didn’t have the heart to tell her she didn’t want a birthday present.
George smiled. “Humor me?”
Mila took the box and unfastened the white bow holding it closed. Inside was a delicate rose gold necklace. Instead of a pendant, two small interlocking links sat at the bottom.
“This is so beautiful,” she whispered as her fingers fluttered over the cold metal.
George took it out of the box and put it around her neck. “So you can think of me when we’re not together.”
Mila pressed her smile against George’s lips. “As if I ever stop thinking of you,” she whispered, sounding sadder than she’d intended.
“This will be over so soon. Just under three months left to go,” she promised as she kissed her neck and ran her open palms over her hips.
“Will you stay the night?” Mila asked as George’s lips warmed her body and roused her desire.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice already deepening. “I’ve missed the perfume of your skin, and your lips, and your warmth,” she said, punctuating each word with a kiss lower on her chest. “But more than anything, I’ve missed sleeping with you and waking up with you and knowing your body is right next to mine.”
Mila smiled. It was funny how love could make you miss a person’s smell, but it was true. She’d missed all the same things.
“Do you mind if I shower?” she asked suddenly, as if only just remembering something very important.
Mila pretended to think about it. “Only if I can join you.”
* * *
The next morning Mila woke up with the familiar heaviness at her back she’d missed so much over the preceding months.
“Good morning,” George said sleepily as she turned around to face her.
In the dull morning light streaming in through her sheer, white curtains, George’s nude body was luminescent.
“Good morning,” she repeated, unable to resist the temptation of an exposed abdomen. Kissing her softly, while George’s fingers got lost in her hair, she left a wet trail down to her belly button. When instead of stopping her, George moaned softly, she continued further until situating herself between her legs.
With very little preamble, Mila’s tongue dove into the tender flesh still swollen from the night before. Avoiding the most sensitive areas, she teased George just enough to make her squirm. It hadn’t taken long before she was bucking her hips and crying Mila’s name. When she couldn’t take anymore, she pulled Mila’s body up on top of hers and kissed her deeply.
“What was that for?” George asked breathlessly, her body still twitching. “It’s your birthday, not mine.” She laughed.
“So that means I get what I want,” she offered with a shrug. “But it was yesterday,” she added when she remembered the rules.
“We’re still celebrating. I want at least twenty-four hours with you,” George replied confidently.
“Can you afford to take that much time off the campaign? Jo says—”
George interrupted her with a kiss. “A single day is not going to torpedo my chances of re-election. I promise. Hell, if all the hands I’ve shaken and asses I’ve kissed doesn’t buy a single day off, I’m really screwed.”
“I’ve got something for you to kiss,” Mila joked with a serious expression.
George laughed. “We will have plenty of time for all sorts of kissing,” she replied with a grin. “First, I’d like to take you somewhere.”
Mila’s eyes widened. She�
��d expected that a day together would be limited to her apartment. “Where?”
“You’ll see,” George replied unhelpfully.
Twenty minutes later they were both wearing one of Mila’s baseball caps, a must when she didn’t want to be recognized by clients out in the street. Plain T-shirts and leggings completed their look.
Sitting in the back of the SUV with serious tints, Mila leaned over to whisper in George’s ear. “I’m kind of into you wearing my clothes,” she confessed, earning a smile from George.
A while later, the SUV pulled up to a cute little house in the suburbs. Resisting the urge to ask questions, Mila followed her out of the car and up the stone walkway.
“Good morning.” A middle-aged woman in scrubs answered the door and stepped back to let them inside.
After being introduced by name, but not by relationship status, Mila followed George to a sunroom in the back of the house. In an armchair, a sweet looking old man with quaffed white hair and a matching glorious white mustache, sat contently listening to music older than George and Mila combined. A big brown photo album in his lap held his attention.
“Papi,” George called softly.
The old man looked up and his face lit up with heart-seizing joy. “Georgie,” he greeted happily. “When did you get here?”
“Just now, Papi,” she assured him and bent down to kiss his forehead. Mila stayed near the entrance while the two embraced.
“And who is this lovely girl?” he asked happily before narrowing his glance and whispering to George in Spanish. “Is she Russian?” He eyed her suspiciously as he did.
George barely stifled a laugh. “No, Papi. She’s not KGB,” she informed him as if knowing the source of his concern. “She’s someone very special I want you to meet.”
“Then come in!” he ordered with unbridled joy.
Mila strode toward him. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Fernandez,” she said, reaching for his hand to shake.
“Please call me Pedro. We are not so formal in my house,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
Mila felt herself blush as her eyes darted to George, who looked like she might be close to bursting. “Thank you, Pedro. What are you looking at?” she asked as if she’d known him her entire life.
“Pull up a chair. Both of you girls,” he instructed with a gnarled finger.
Mila obliged and grabbed a chair for George while pulling out a short stool from a piano for herself. Sitting on either side of him, they looked at dozens of pictures.
“Your mother is beautiful,” Mila commented when they stopped at a large black and white photo from their wedding. The young couple was signing a registry as they sat surrounded by loved ones. “You look so much like her,” she said, glancing up to confirm the uncanny resemblance.
“Aren’t both my girls so beautiful?” he asked, pride threatening to break him apart. “And smart too. Don’t cross them or you’ll leave with your tail between your legs,” he joked with a belly laugh.
Mila grinned at George. Each second she spent with her dad taking a guided walk through her life, she fell more hopelessly in love with her improbable partner.
“Look at this one,” he said, pointing at one of baby George in a little dress standing in the middle of a birthday party. “She walked right into her first birthday all on her own.”
The pictures continued until George was in elementary school, but the rest of the album had been emptied. Mila didn’t ask why, but it didn’t take long to realize that based on some of the things he was saying, he still believed George to be a little girl. Maybe the older photos upset him on bad days, she thought. George had mentioned that her dad was in a fragile state and in need of care, but she’d never specified why.
“Can I offer you some coffee?” the woman in scrubs asked. “Cuban. Fresh made,” she added as if to entice them.
“Please let me help,” Mila replied as she shot up from the chair. She didn’t know how long it had been since they’d spent a little time together and wanted to offer them some privacy.
From the kitchen, Mila could overhear their conversation, even though she tried to tune it out. She only understood some of George’s words in Spanish, but her Dad’s insistence on replying in English clued her in.
“She seems like a lovely girl, Georgie. A lovely girl. Now listen, don’t you worry about your mother. I’ll talk to her. You know how she is. A lot of sound and fury, but she will come around. She loves you more than anything in this world. We are both so proud of you. Wait until she meets her. I know you’ll have her blessing. She will come around.”
The substance of the conversation, even in fragments, left Mila paralyzed. Did she just tell her father about me? About us? The notion made Mila’s chest ache. It had surprised her in the most touching of ways.
“Would you take the snacks in for me, dear?” the woman asked, forcing Mila out of her head.
When she came back in, tray in hand, she had to resist the urge to hug them both. Deciding it might be strange, she sat on her stool instead and drank her shot of espresso.
“Pedro, do you play dominos?” Mila asked, her eyes on the rectangular wooden box on the shelf.
“But of course! Do you?”
Mila grinned but didn’t say she was a bit of a shark. Two hours later, she and Pedro had beaten George and the nurse so many times, they refused to play anymore.
“Thank you for that,” George said when they got back in the car, her hand discreetly laying against hers.
“What?” Mila exaggerated her confusion. “Mercilessly kicking your butt?” she added with an evil laugh.
George smiled at her sweetly and with soft eyes that conveyed the depth of her emotion without need for a single word.
I love you too, she thought as they drove back to her apartment for their final hours together. At least for a couple of months.
* * *
George dragged herself back to the mansion just in time to shower and change for a dinner she was supposed to be attending in an hour. It would be a miracle if she could pull herself together and be only a little late. As she raced up the stairs to her room, she noticed the door to Nathan’s room was open. She took it as a good omen.
“Nathan?” she asked as she approached cautiously.
“Come in,” he replied, setting a suitcase on the foot of the bed. “Just packing a few things for that trip around the pan handle. You still need me for that, right?”
Instead of replying, George continued in and enveloped him in a hug.
“What was that for?” he asked with a chuckle once they released each other.
“You’ve been such a good friend to me,” she admitted, her heart jumping into the driver’s seat of her mouth. “I love you like a brother. Truly.”
“I love you two, Georgie,” he said with a wide grin. “Is everything alright?” His expression changed to concern as he watched her.
“I want a divorce,” she blurted.
Nathan’s eyes widened. “What about the election?” he asked. George noted that he didn’t protest.
“I’m not sure yet,” she confessed, stepping a few feet back to sit on the edge of the bed.
After a beat, Nathan followed. “I’ve never seen you so happy,” he started softly as he took the seat next to her. “And if I’m being honest, I’ve never been so happy either.”
George nodded again as the emotion welled up in her eyes and her chest, threatening to drown her from within.
“I’ve been so selfish, haven’t I? I trapped you in a promise we made twenty years ago. And you’ve put your life on hold so that I could succeed.”
Nathan took her hands in his. “It was a different world then. We thought we were doing the best thing. I’ve benefited from this, too. There’s no way I would have been half this successful without your name recognition and connections. Let’s face it, I’m not that good at business,” he joked.
George squeezed his hand. “You’re a wonderful person, Nathan. I wi
ll always be so grateful to you. I’m so sorry I kept you from a real love life for so long,” she said as guilt forced the tears from her eyes. Until Mila revived the part of her heart that had atrophied, she’d forgotten about relationships all together. She’d never considered what it had been like for Nathan having secret relationships. Knowing he could never offer more than part time love. Had he ever lost a girl like Mila? The guilt and regret were too much to bear.
Nathan embraced her with his entire body. “We have a lot of life left to live. The only mistake is not making the most of it now.”
* * *
As soon as George could extricate herself from her duties, she headed away from the mansion and across town. Her leg shook nervously in the back of the car. So many conversations swirled around in her head. Her dad’s voice, Nathan, Mila, Josephine, they were all leading her to the same place. The only question was, would she be brave enough to go?
The SUV hadn’t come to a complete stop before George was jumping out. With high heels cracking against stone pavers, she raced to the door and banged like her life depended on it. The wait was interminable. In reality, it may have only taken thirty seconds for the door to swing open, but it seemed like an eternity.
“George? What’s wrong?” Josephine answered, her hair wrapped in a colorful scarf and her body covered by a plush purple bathrobe.
“You didn’t answer the phone,” she explained, heart pounding in her mouth, making it hard to breathe normally or speak evenly.
“Marcel was feeling better, so we went to bed early,” she said with a mischievous grin.
Guilt turned George’s face bright red. “I really hate to interrupt, and I promise I will make it up to you,” she explained in a rush. “But I need to run some projections and I really need your help.”
“Projections? What kind of projections?” Josephine moved back from the door to let George inside.
“The career ending kind,” she replied as she walked in.
Chapter Twenty-Five
