Page 27 of Saving Little Lina: Part Two

That Tuesday night was staged to be like any other quiet evening at my mansion, a deceptive calm before the storm of surprise I had orchestrated with Mike and Lina's help. As Joe and I approached the front door, his voice broke the silence, laced with a hint of suspicion. "Let me guess, I'm about to open this door to find Mike and Lina jumping out, screaming 'surprise!' right?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his intuition, shaking my head. "Mike knows better than to plan a surprise party when he's well aware you despise surprises," I reassured him, hoping to keep the imminent shock under wraps for just a moment longer.

Joe seemed to take my word, albeit with a raised eyebrow of skepticism. However, the moment the door swung open, the room burst into light, and the air filled with the echoes of "Surprise!" as Mike, Lina, and a group of their friends leaped from the shadows.

The look on Joe's face was priceless—a mix of shock, disbelief, and a reluctant amusement as he mumbled to himself, "And here I thought I'd escape my birthday without becoming the center of a circus."

Mike, unable to contain his excitement, giggled as he leaped onto Joe, clinging onto him with childlike enthusiasm. He pointed towards a grand chair set in the center of the livingroom, designed to be Joe's throne for the evening. Once Joe, carrying Mike in his arms, took a seat, Mike jumped out of his lap and began running around the chair with giddy excitement.

"I did it! I've successfully thrown a surprise party all by myself," Mike declared, beaming with pride. "Maybe I qualify as a grown-up now. Do you think I can give orders to Daddy with this newfound power?"

Lina, crawling up to him with a playful roll of her eyes, couldn't help but interject. "Taking all the credit, are we? I seem to recall putting in half the backbreaking work to make this happen," she teased, her tone light but pointed.

Mike, caught in the act, giggled sheepishly and turned to acknowledge Lina's efforts. "You're right, you're right. Couldn't have done it without you," he admitted, his laughter infectious. "So, partner in crime, shall we move onto the highlight of the evening? Little-themed party games are up next."

The party, under the guise of a surprise, had quickly morphed into what looked unmistakably like a Little's dream celebration. The living room, a vibrant tableau of whimsy and color, was adorned with balloons in every shade of the rainbow, strung across the ceiling in joyful disarray. Tables laden with sweets—cupcakes with too much frosting, a mountain of brightly colored candy, and a giant, elaborately decorated cake that seemed more suited for a fairy tale—filled the room. Streamers and glitter were everywhere, and in one corner, a makeshift fort constructed from blankets and fairy lights offered a cozy retreat.

Joe, still seated in his grand chair, surveyed the room with a mix of surprise and mock indignation. "Why does it look like this party is more for a Little than for me?" he gasped, his eyes wide as they took in the scene. "Was my birthday just an excuse for you Littles to throw your own party?"

This sparked a playful banter between Joe and Mike, each accusing the other of hogging the spotlight at every opportunity.

Mike, with a twinkle in his eye, retorted, "Well, if someone wasn't so grumpy about birthdays, maybe the party would've looked more 'adult.' But no, we had to make it fun somehow!"

Joe shot back, "Ah, so it's my fault that my birthday party has turned into a playground for Littles? Next, you'll be telling me the cake is actually made of play-doh!"

Mike laughed, "Only if you promise to make a wish before you eat it. We all know you're secretly wishing for a giant teddy bear."

Lina erupted in laughter at their exchange, the warmth and affection between them palpable.

Eventually, Joe, with a soft smile, conceded, "Thank you, Mike, for this... uniquely unforgettable birthday."

Mike, his sass ever-present but with a touch of sweetness, replied, "Only the best for you, Daddy. Who else would I dress up as a fairy for and jump out of a cake?"

Then, Mike shyly presented Joe with his birthday gift—a custom-made photo album filled with snapshots of their moments together, each photo captioned with inside jokes and sweet memories. It was personal, heartfelt, and a testament to the depth of their bond.

Joe, visibly moved by the gesture, thanked Mike with a warmth that filled the room. "This... This means everything. Thank you, Mike."

Not missing a beat, Mike and Lina then ushered Joe into participating in a quintessentially Little birthday activity—pin the tail on the donkey, but with a twist. The donkey was humorously replaced with a caricature of Joe himself, complete with exaggerated grumpy eyebrows.

Joe's participation was grudging at best, his comments dripping with sarcasm even as he was blindfolded and spun around. "Ah, yes, nothing says 'happy birthday, Joe' like being made dizzy and disoriented. What's next, a piñata shaped like my dignity?"

Despite his grumblings, the laughter and cheer from everyone, including Joe himself, underscored the ridiculousness of the activity, making it a highlight of the evening.

The moment the doorbell echoed through the mansion, a ripple of anticipation surged amongst us. Mike, embodying the role of a makeshift sentinel, crawled over to the peephole, his usual bravado momentarily eclipsed by a palpable tension. "Alright, Littles. The guest who’s not part of our Little community has arrived. It’s time to play Daddies, just like we practiced," he instructed, his voice laced with an attempt at levity. "Just stand up and scowl a bit. Should be convincing enough."

Joe, unable to resist, rolled his eyes at Mike's antics. "Have we now resorted to inviting outsiders to our little enclave?" he inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Mike, with a hesitant hand on the door, seemed rooted to the spot, a stark contrast to his typically exuberant self. Lina, ever the pillar of support, approached him, her gentle touch a silent offer of reassurance.

Observing Mike's uncharacteristic nervousness, I felt a tug of concern. I whispered to him, "It's going to be okay, Mike. We're all here with you." My words were meant to fortify him, a reminder of the solidarity that encircled him within these walls.

With a deep breath that seemed to gather the sum of his courage, Mike finally swung the door open. Joe's sister, Emma, stepped through the threshold, her presence an unexpected pivot in the evening's narrative.

"Sorry, Hank. Mom and Dad couldn't make it," she said, addressing me first before her gaze settled on Joe. The surprise that flickered across Joe's features mirrored my own internal dissonance. I had wrestled with the decision to keep Emma's arrival a secret, knowing it could either bridge gaps or widen them. My hope had been for the former.

"What's all this, then?" Joe asked, his voice a blend of confusion and a dawning realization. “Looks like my dear sister is done ignoring me.”

His question was directed at the heart of the clandestine planning that had enveloped his birthday preparations.

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