Page 10 of Selfish Desires

Stephen laughed. “You really are a dessert girl, aren't you?”

Marissa smiled, but I could see the concern hidden behind her eyes. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Not at all.” It was the easiest lie I told all night.

About two hours and two bottles of wine later, I Uber'd home. Why risk it? When I opened the car door, my eyes stayed glued to my heavy limbs. What a day and a pleasant night. It wasn't what I had imagined when I woke up this morning, but it was just what I needed. A great day at work and an easy night with friends. I glided toward my front door when an orange glow caught my eye, and the familiar shadow under the blue moon's light triggered a yelp from my throat.

Three years. It had been three years since I saw my old best friend from my previous life in New York. What was Blair doing sitting on my front porch, holding a strawberry shortcake with a burning red candle in its center?

“Blair?” I uttered. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at full attention.

She stood, looking the same and just as I remembered. Her black hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her dark, kind eyes locked with mine. “Hey, Wendy.” A small sigh exited her body, and she extended the cake in my direction. “Happy Birthday. I missed you.” Blair paused. “Is it okay if I come in?”

Three years. I hadn't seen Blair, my bestie, for three fucking years. Three years too long, and she was here. On my birthday. Sitting on my doorstep holding a cake for who knows how long. My heart twisted when she asked if she could come in. As if that was even a question. But maybe my behavior toward her over the years proved that it was. Ugh, when did I morph into such a bitch to the people who were always there for me?

“Oh my God. Blair!” I ran to my friend and hugged her, almost knocking the strawberry shortcake from her hand. We both screamed when the dessert almost went down, but once it was secured and balanced, we laughed like nothing had changed between us.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to choke out through laughter. “We were just talking this morning.” I motioned to Blair's figure, dressed in all black except for her white shirt that popped underneath her black peacoat. “When did you get here?”

“About two hours ago. I was sick of wishing my bestie a happy birthday over the phone, and I was just sick of only talking to you over the phone. So, I told Zachary I was leaving and would return in a few days. We haven't seen each other in years. Unacceptable.” Blair held a finger up to the blue moonlight.

“Well, we've been busy. You had a baby. How is Sadie, by the way?” Almost a year ago, Blair had a second daughter, her first with Zachary. “Hold on! Inside now.” I pointed to the red craftsman door.

Blair nodded, and we stepped inside my home's warm, cozy confines. I closed the door behind us, shutting out the biting wind. Inside, it was quiet and peaceful. “She's great,” Blair sighed as she placed the cake on my kitchen table. She brushed a few stray crumbs from the icing delicately as though she was grooming her child's hair. “She's turning into a mini-me and has Zach wrapped around her little finger.”

“Really? You can tell even though she's still an infant?” I shrugged off my coat and took Blair's, hanging both from the wrought iron rack next to the door. The house I bought here two years ago was far from big, but it had everything I wanted.

“Sadie won't be an infant for long. In a month, she turns one.” Blair sighed, staring into space as if reliving the last eleven months.

“It's incredible how fast time goes.” I shook my head, thinking about time.

“It is,” Blair agreed, her eyes fixed on a distant point. “And it doesn't wait for anyone.”

We sat, allowing the silence to soak in the room like a fog hovering over a meadow in the early morning light. I glanced at Blair, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the table lamp. She looked tired but happy.

“Want some coffee?” I asked eventually, breaking the silence.

She turned toward me and smiled, that same old Blair charm that could light up a room. “Sure.”

I pushed myself off the seat and moved to the kitchen. Blair followed me, settling herself onto one of my kitchen stools. As the coffee machine gurgled to life, I could not help but embrace the comfortable warmth of Blair's presence. It was strange how, after years of separation, it was normal to have her in my space again.

“Hey.” I pivoted to face Blair. “How did you know my address?”

“Um, hello?” Blair dropped her chin, staring at me through heavy lids. “I send you a birthday card every year.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Of course you do. I forgot.”

Blair grinned at me, a familiar twinkle in her eye. “Yeah, you've got the memory of a goldfish.”

As the coffee brewed, the smell filled the kitchen, rich and comforting. I pulled two floral butterfly mugs from a cabinet and set them on the counter. With Blair here, my lonely birthday suddenly seemed a lot brighter. The coffee finished brewing, and I carefully poured it into the mugs. The rich aroma wafted through the kitchen, mingling with the sweet scent of Blair's homemade cake. I slid a mug across the counter to her, watching as she wrapped her hands around it, heating her hands.

“I can't believe you're here.” My eyes stayed glued to Blair, believing if I shifted them away, she'd disappear, and this would just be a dream to wake up to a cruel reality.

“I kept saying one day I'd surprise you despite you insisting I didn't need to make the trip.” She took a steaming sip. “You missed me, don't lie.”

“Of course I missed you. You're staying here, by the way.”

“I know.” Blair smiled.

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