Page 60 of Xavier

Fourteen

Her

I admit it. I was slightly disappointed when Xavier asked my plans and then left it at that. What did I want? Did I want him to ask me out for dinner?

No. No! Because then I would've had to say no, and I don't know that I could've.

But now here I am, in my office, last meeting of the day finally over, and the prospect of mac and cheese alone in my apartment is actually making me feel more lonely than I have felt in years.

The stack of catalogues on the side of my desk are seemingly mocking me as I reach out to pack them into my work bag, knowing that I’ll be spending tonight of all nights with them.

“Shush. I like my work,” I tell them, and try not to cringe at the pathetic way my voice sounds as I try to defend my hermit lifestyle to a stack of papers.

I flip the switch on my desk lamp and pull the coat off the back of my chair. I contemplate calling Jade before I realize she’s probably busy bathing or feeding her baby.

Alone it is.

“Hello?”

I jump as a man wearing a candy stripe uniform and a bunch of helium balloons wanders into my office. It’s the last thing that I expected to see right now.

“Um, yes, can I help you?”

“Are you Malynda?”

I roll my eyes. Sent by Xavier.

“I guess. What’s up?”

“I have a delivery for you.” He holds out a box and ties the balloons to one of the desk legs. “Have a good night.”

I’m too engrossed in the big white box to notice him leave.

What is this, Xavier? I wonder, but not for long. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I tear off the ribbon on the box and fling the cardboard lid across the room. I rifle through the layers and tissue paper until I get to the main part of the gift. Then I can’t help but guffaw.

Inside is a pair of flannel pajamas. With goldfish on them. Where did he even find them?

I lift up the flannel top and a small card falls out.

"Put these on and I'll meet you downstairs in 15 minutes. Don't argue. And don't be late!"

I hug the card to my chest, something tickling inside my stomach. A deep breath doesn't make it go away.

"Fuck it." I push myself up away from my desk. "I told you I'm not a loser," I say to the stack of catalogues and pull the blinds closed as I slip out of my skirt and into the pajamas.

I've been downstairs for about 5 minutes, when I hear the faint tune of Happy Birthday. I step out onto the road peering down Madison Avenue and see a limo coming toward me with a bunch of balloons floating out from its roof. It's only about twenty yards away when I realize there’s a head bobbing around amongst the balloons, one that belongs to my high school sweetheart.

"Hey! You're not appropriately dressed," is the first thing he says to me when the limo comes to a stop outside the building.

I can barely breathe from laughing to respond so I just open my jacket, flasher style, to show him what I'm wearing underneath.

"Yay! Now we match," he exclaims.

He ducks down and disappears for a second before jumping out of the limo. He’s dressed exactly like I am, except he has something I don't. A pair of Nemo slippers on his feet.

"Oh my god, Xave!" I squeal pointing at them with one hand, the other holding onto his arm as I hug my cramping stomach.

"Don't worry, I brought you a pair as well!"