Taking a deep breath, I push the doorbell and wait. I hold my breath wondering if Grace will answer or one of her parents. A gift bag in one hand, I run the other over my brown hair smoothing the longer strands. I adjust the collar on my black polo, the same one I have to wear to work. I’m about to push the circular button once more when the door opens inward revealing Mr. Duffy.

“Come on in. Grace is still in the dark about you being here. She’s going to be so surprised.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“You must be Trevor.” A slender blonde woman with the same blue eyes as Grace walks toward me and I know this has to be her mom.

I smile and hold out my hand. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her firm, sure grip makes me smile. I bet Grace gets some of her strength from her mom. I can see it in the confident way she carries herself. I wonder if she was a spitfire like her daughter when she and Mr. Duffy began dating.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Grace has told me so many nice things about you.”

“She has?” I blurt out the question before I can stop it.

“That surprises you?”

“Well… you’re probably aware your daughter is no push over.”

She laughs, “That’s an understatement and a kind way for you to put it.”

“I love her even when she’s at her most difficult.”

“Which is more often than not,” she nods.

“Trevor, what are you doing here?” Grace pauses on the last step of the staircase as she descends.

“Happy Birthday, Red.” I smile and walk toward her. Stopping when I’m in front of her, I wrap my arms around her and lift her from the stair. “I’m so happy to see you. I missed you,” I whisper for her ears only before setting her down on her feet.

Her smile is hesitant and it makes my chest twinge to see her this way. I don’t want her to doubt anything about us. We’re solid and she needs to realize we are. My keeping secrets isn’t helping her feel secure. I should’ve confided in her from the moment it happened. While my motives were pure, I didn’t think the situation through very well.

“Fireball, I invited Trevor here to surprise you. We wanted this to be a special birthday. You only turn twenty-one once.”

She manages a smile for her dad before she looks my way. “Thank you. It’s nice of you to come.”

Why’s she being so formal? We’re in love, aren't we? One date cut short doesn’t change that. I rub the back of my neck as my thoughts jumble inside my head like a giant mess of tangled electrical cords. God, girls are so confusing.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Red.”

“Why don’t you guys go get comfortable and we’ll call you when dinner is ready,” Mrs. Duffy suggests.

I catch Grace’s hand. “Come on. I have a present for you.” I lead her toward the living room off to the right of the entry and we lower onto the couch side by side. I don’t relinquish hold of her hand and we remain silent until her parents disappear into what I presume is the kitchen. “How’s your day been so far?”

She shrugs. “I worked this morning and then went for a run. That’s about it.”

“Are you upset that your dad invited me? I can go if you’d prefer.”

“No. Why would you think that?”

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been short with me in every message and even now I’m getting a weird vibe.

“Your texts seemed out of character for you. And when I dropped you off Friday night you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.”

There’s that word again. Fuck.

“Here.” I hold out the pink gift bag with her present inside. “It’s just something small.” I feel awkward waiting to see if she likes it. I’m the guy who makes other people feel uncomfortable and this slip of a girl has my head spinning and stomach rolling anxiously.

She pulls the white rectangle of tissue paper from the bag and slowly unwraps it revealing the black picture frame. Her lips mouth the words as she reads the poem.

As if painted with an artist’s brush,

the reds, oranges, and golden tones of your hair reflect the fire in your soul.

The blue palette of your irises stole my breath the moment they connected with mine, forever changing me.

We crashed together, the world around us disappeared.

I was lost in your sweet scent and the sensual tangle of our limbs.

And when reality reappeared, I knew there was no place I’d rather be than surrounded by your fiery warmth, floating on the endless sea of your blue eyes.

Reading through it again, her lips move, but she remains silent. She smiles, raising her eyes to mine. “I love this. It’s beautiful.” She shakes her head, eyes lowering shyly to her lap before sweeping back up. “Do you really feel this way about me?” Her voice quivers with doubt.

Reaching forward, I cup her face in my hands. “Yes. I mean every single word I wrote. Do you think I’m the kind of guy who writes poetry for girls? Or at all for that matter?”

She presses her lips together. “No, probably not.”

“I can tell you this is a first for me. And it’s because I love you, Grace. Buying you a gift would’ve been a much easier option, but I wanted to give you something that showed you how I feel.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Can I kiss you, now?” My palms tense on her cheeks. “I’ve missed your lips for the past two days.”

“Of course. Why are you asking?”

“I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I do.”

“We’re in a great place. Now give me my birthday kiss and make it a good one.”

“Yes, ma'am. These lips are at your service.”

After dinner and cake, the two of us sit out on the back deck, cuddling on the two person swing. My arm around her and her head on my shoulder as we repeatedly rock back and forth feels so right. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt so tranquil. I’m dreading going to work. I have to leave soon and I don’t know how to tell her. We’ve had such a great time and now the hour is getting later. Minutes are racing by all because I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“Thank you for being here. This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad, Red. Wherever you are is where I want to be.” And now how am I supposed to broach the subject of needing to leave?

“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” I ask.

“I’ll stay here for a few more hours. I don’t want to run out on my folks.”

“I’m going to hit the road if it’s okay with you.” Maybe if I put the decision on her, she won’t be upset.

“Okay.”

Was that an okay no problem or an okay that really means it’s not okay at all?

“I’ve got some things to take care of before tomorrow. Coach scheduled a double practice session.”

“I’ll see you in class in the morning.”

“I’ll talk to you before then, Red. I’ll miss you as soon as I drive away.”

She smiles. “You better.”

“I didn’t know I was going to see you tonight.” I spin around at the familiar voice.

“Sandy. What are you doing here?”

Smoothing her hands over the tight black polo she’s wearing, she arches her back provocatively.

How did I ever find her attractive?

“I’m bartending this reception. It’s my first time.”

“Gotcha. Well good luck. Hope it goes well for you.”

Her eyes scan me from head to toe. “You’re working too?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you need a job? You’re loaded with money.”

I jerk my head toward the kitchen area. “I need to keep moving before I fall behind.”

“Come see me and I’ll give you some drinks.”

I’m sure that’s not all you want to give me. A few months ago, I might have been all over her offer. No strings attached sex seemed like a good deal. But now I’m not even tempted and I’m wondering why I ever was. Perspective can change in a snap and mine did the moment I met Grace.

The event keeps me busy as I run trays of dinner courses out to the tables and then clear them away. Back and forth, the servers rush from the kitchen to the tables. Thousands of steps have been taken by the time the end of my shift rolls around. My stomach growls hungrily. I haven’t eaten since late afternoon at the Duffy’s and it’s almost midnight now. I also haven’t texted or called Grace. Shit.

Grabbing one of the dinners set aside for the staff, I head to the giant table at the far end of the kitchen and sit down to eat. Slipping my phone from my pocket, I type out a text.

Me: Hey, how was the rest of your night?

I wait for a reply, setting my phone down on the table while I dig into the roast beef dinner. After a couple of minutes there’s still no reply. I set my fork and knife down and call her. The phone doesn’t even ring before a recorded message plays in my ear.

“This number is no longer active. Contact your service provider for more information.”

What the fuck? What’s going on? Dropping my chin to my chest, I pinch the bridge of my nose. This has my father written all over it. He mentioned I’d have to pay for my own phone. I thought he’d ask me for money or send me a bill. I didn’t imagine he’d deactivate my number without a heads up. What an asshole. And now I have no way of getting in touch with Grace. I hope she’s not worried or angry because she hasn’t heard from me.

Sandy falls into the empty chair next to mine. “Whaaat’s wrooong? You look... like you... could... use some company?”

Turning to her I notice her bloodshot eyes and flushed face. She’s hammered. “You look like you could use something to eat.” I stand and move over to the counter where the plates have been set out. I pluck a fork and knife from the containers and choose a meal for her. Retracing my steps, I place it all down in front of her. “Eat.”

“Ooh… order me… around.” She leans her head on my arm and bats her lashes at me. Shrugging her off my shoulder, I prop her upright once more.

“Sit up, eat your dinner, and soak up some of that booze. We just finished our shift. How are you so banged up?” I sound like I’m a parent scolding their teenager.

She places her thumb and index finger close together and leans forward until her face is almost touching them. “A little sip… here and… there.”

“One for you, one for me kind of thing, huh?”

“Yes,” she drunkenly shouts and then giggles.

“How are you getting home?”

“In a car, silly.”

“I mean did you drive yourself to work or did you get a ride?”

“I drove.”

Fuck. She’s a mess and in no condition to drive herself home. “Hurry up and eat and I’ll take you back to your place.”

“Oh goody. What are… you gonna dooo…. with me?”

“I’m taking you home and that’s all I’m doing.”

Fifteen minutes later her plate is clean and she seems more inebriated than before. What the hell is going on? The food should’ve soaked up some of the alcohol by now. “Do you have any substances besides alcohol in your system?”

“I took a pill.”

“What kind of pill?”

“A chill pill,” she laughs hysterically. She sounds like she’s coming unhinged.

“What exactly is a chill pill?”

“Valyummmm.”

“Valium?” I question.

“Yeeeep.”

Just fucking great. I don’t do drugs, but I know alcohol and pills don’t mix. Rising to my feet, I clear our plates from the table and set them over by the sink. Walking back to the table, I grab my phone and push it down into my pocket. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

It takes her three tries to stand up and the only reason it’s not four is because I latched onto her upper arm and lifted her. She sways unsteadily and I wait, prepared to catch her if she topples over. Somehow she shuffles her feet forward in tiny sliding steps like she’s skating across the tile floor instead of walking. I’m not going to complain though. At least we’re making progress toward the back exit. My first night working here I learned staff parks in the back in a separate lot which is extremely helpful when your ushering a drunk woman out to your vehicle. At least we don’t have to pass by any club members. I can’t afford to lose this job. One of the members complaining about a drunk staff would be bad for all of us. And I might be considered guilty by association.

Getting her from the kitchen to my Range Rover is a slow process, but once she’s seated safely inside I sigh with relief and then shake my head at the situation.

The ride to her place takes about twenty minutes, and thankfully, Sandy sleeps through all of it. As much as I hate the reminder that I’ve been involved with her in the past, one good thing has come out of it. I know where she lives and don’t have to wake her to ask.

My head’s been a cyclone of worry for the duration of the drive. I can’t stop wondering what Grace is doing at this moment. Hopefully, she’s asleep and not concerned about me. I’ll arrive at class early in the morning and tell her everything.

I double park at the curb in front of the upperclassmen dorms Sandy lives in. I put my hazards on before hurrying around to the passenger side of the vehicle. “Sandy,” I call her name and jostle her arm. “Sandy, wake up,” I yell, my patience at an all time low.

“Don’t yell,” she groans rubbing her forehead.

“I won’t as long as you do as I say. Swing your legs to the side and I’ll help you climb out.” She does what I say, albeit slowly and shakily, but she’s on her feet so that’s a win. “I’m going to walk you to your door, but then you’re on your own.” I’m sure as hell not tucking her in. I’ve done my duty and then some.

I hold her arm and walk beside her. She fumbles after two steps and almost goes down, but I catch her in my arms. Her head falls to my chest leaving me staring at the top of her head. “Uh, Sandy, now’s not the time for a nap. Come on, help me out here.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and carefully walk her to the door. Once we’re inside I direct her to the elevator and prop her against the wall while I push the button for the third floor. There’s no way she’d make it up the stairs. This is the quickest method of getting her to her room.

The door opens and my arm returns to her shoulders. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be done, I remind myself. We move down the brightly lit hallway and Sandy tucks her face into my chest to escape the brightness. We pass a few people walking in the other direction and I nod, acknowledging them. One girl speeds by us, clearly annoyed at our slow pace. I ignore the awkwardness of the situation and hope no one recognizes me as we keep making forward progress until we’re standing in front of her door. It’s about fucking time.

“Get your keys out.”

“It’s unlocked,” she murmurs.

I turn the knob and push the door open, leading her inside. I direct her over to her bed and she falls onto the mattress with a groan of relief. “Thank you.”

Moving back to the door, I peer over my shoulder to make sure she’s still lying there. “Sleep it off.”

I hurry back to my illegally parked car and find a cop writing me a ticket. Goddammit. No good deed goes unfucking punished. “Wait, I’m right here,” I shout, hurrying toward him.

“Too late, buddy. Here you go.” He peels the ticket from the pad and tucks it under the wiper, even though I’m standing right near him. What a dick.

Biting my tongue, I hold back all the expletives I want to shout at him and grab the offensive orange paper before climbing in the driver’s side. I throw the ticket on the passenger seat and begin the drive home. My hands clench the wheel with fury and the leather creaks. This night has been a complete shit show, and I know Grace is going to be pissed at me too. What else can possibly go wrong?