Page 149 of The Twelve Months of Christmas
Molly and Sunny showed up at Arianna’s house early Friday evening to celebrate her birthday, bearing gifts and pink champagne cake from McGavin’s bakery in Bremerton.
“This is going to be your best year yet,” Molly predicted, handing over an envelope.
Arianna opened it to find a gift card for Massage Envy in nearby Silverdale. “A massage. That sounds like such a luxury,” she said.
“We all deserve a little luxury once in a while,” Molly said.
“I have something for you, too,” Mia told Arianna, and presented her with a box wrapped in white paper and tied with a blue ribbon.
She opened it to find a leather-bound photo album. “So that was the mysterious Amazon delivery you wouldn’t let me see the other day,” Arianna said, smiling at her.
“I think you have some photos on your phone that you might enjoy putting in it, and I’m sure you’ll have more to add in the coming year. To capture all those new adventures,” Mia said.
And replace the photos she’d burned a year ago. Arianna hugged her mother and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
Molly opened it and there stood Alden. “Here’s the next part of your birthday celebration,” she announced.
“You ready to go out to dinner?” he asked Arianna.
“We’re all going to stay here and party while you’re gone,” Molly said.
And make sure Mia was okay. She had the best friends.
She and Alden wound up at Anthony’s, enjoying a window table that gave them a view of the ferry traffic. “This is really sweet of you,” she said.
“That’s me. Sweet,” he said, brushing off her compliment. “Actually, I wanted to make this night special. You’ve had a bumpy year and I figured it was time you made up for it.” He started making up by ordering champagne. “Appetizers?” he suggested.
“And champagne?”
“Why not? It’s your birthday. And how do the prawns look?”
“Expensive,” she said.
“But good?”
“Well...”
“Or filet mignon?”
That was even pricier. “Prawns are great,” she said.
And they were. So was the chocolate mousse he ordered for their dessert.
“This has really been special. I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.
“You just did. Happy birthday.” He looked out the window at the ferry gliding toward the dock. “We gotta go. We have a ferry to catch.”
“A ferry?” she repeated.
“Nothing like a birthday ferry ride,” he said, and signaled for the check.
Twenty minutes later they were standing outside on the ferry, watching as it slid away from the dock, which was festively lit for the holidays.
“I love riding the ferry at night,” she said happily.
“I love riding the ferry at night with a beautiful woman,” he said.
