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I glance around at all the decorations, noting the faces of the bemused IKEA staff, all wandering around in their blue and yellow-striped shirts. “Jake, you know I’m Finnish—”
“Fuck’s sake, Mars,” he grumbles. “Yes, I know. Everyone knows. That house plant knows,” he adds, pointing at a fake plant on the table. “But Finland doesn’t have a furniture superstore with an in-store cafeteria that sells enough salmon and broccoli to feed this crowd. And I looked it up,” he adds, pulling me forward and pointing up at the colorful menu signs. “Everything here is stuff you eat in Finland too. And look at the balloons,” he adds with another point. “Blue and white only. No yellow. I wasverystrict about that.”
I can’t help but smile, shaking my head.
Langley steps in, slipping a shiny blue party hat on my head. “Happy Birthday, Mars.”
“The cafeteria is ours for the night,” Jake says with a wave of his hand. “Swedish meatballs and salmon for everyone!” He says this loud enough for those around to cheer. Then he leans in, his arm tightening around my shoulders. “And I’m sorry, but the desserts here are total shit, so I got some good cake. It’s over there. And the present table is over there,” he adds, pointing in opposite directions.
I glance between the partygoers and spy see a table piled high with colorful gifts. “Christ—”
Music starts up in the corner and the crowd cheers again. Jake brought a DJ to the IKEA?
Kids run around as Jake keeps me in his orbit, forcing me to make the rounds and greet all my guests. I quickly lose track of Rachel as she flits around too, hugging wives.
Before long, I find myself seated at a table, surrounded by Rays. Jake sweeps up behind me and sets a plate down with a flourish. It’s an IKEA plate of salmon, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. There’s a candle shoved into the salmon fillet. The tip flickers with warm, golden light. As the crowd all surges around me, the Rays closest lead everyone in a chaotic chorus of ‘Happy Birthday.’ I blow the candle out to boisterous cheers.
“Happy birthday, man,” Jake says, leaning down to speak in my ear, both hands squeezing my shoulders. “We love you.” He pecks my cheek with a friendly kiss before turning his attention to Davidson sitting at my side. It’s a scuffle as Jake makes him move, saying that spot is reserved for our pregnant wife. Soon after, Rachel joins us, and I split my salmon with her. And fuck if the cupcakes aren’t damn delicious.
For the next hour,Jake hardly lets me out of his sight. I somehow get roped into playing a bag-tossing game called ‘cornhole.’ When the forwards start taking the game too seriously, it only takes a few carefully placed bad throws on my part to get booted.
I make my escape for the bathroom, as much in search of a moment’s peace as I am a place to relieve myself. I’m washing my hands at the sink when the door creaks open. I glance up to see Caleb walk in.
He pauses just inside the door, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a satisfied smirk, like he knows how much this is killing me. I’ve hardly seen him all night. He’s kept to the edges of the party, quietly standing back or helping the staff clear plates.
“How badly do you wanna leave?”
“It’s fine,” I say, lathering my hands with soap.
He takes a few steps closer. “You say the word, and I’ll get you out of here. There’s an ‘employee only’ corridor just outside that will take us out to the front. I know. I checked.”
We exchange a smirk. “Appreciated, but unnecessary.”
His smile dips slightly. “Why are you so okay with all this?”
I just shrug. “It’s important to Jake.”
He nods, closing the distance between us, his hip leaning against the sink. “Jake loves you,” he says, glancing at my reflection in the mirror, rather than at me. “That’s what this is. This terrible party is because he loves you.”
“I know.”
“He just wants you to see how much you’re loved. By the team, by Jax. He wanted to surround you with the faces of everyone who thinks well of you.”
“I know,” I say again.
“So…you’re not mad?”
I glance over my shoulder at him. His expression is impossible to read. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because this party is your literal hell.”
“Maybe,” I say with a smile. “But I know he means well.”
“He does.” Caleb slips his hand into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope. With a sigh he holds it out to me.
“What’s this?” I say, drying my hands on my pants before I take it.
“The other half of your gift. He coordinated us. Jake wanted this party to be from him. And this is supposed to be from me,” he adds, gesturing at the envelope. “But they’re both from Jake.”
