July 15
Ryan
"What do you mean, today's your birthday?"
Ana's hands are on her hips in a display of annoyance.
I blink twice and cock my head slightly to the side.
"I mean, exactly twenty-seven years ago, I was born," I say, not sure what she's getting at.
"Ryan," she says in exasperation, her voice taking on a sing-song quality with a bit of a whine. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She reaches out and pushes my left shoulder gently in a playful gesture.
For the briefest moment, she reminds me so much of Saph that I tense. Saph used to do that, to whine and say "Ryyyaaaan" any time she wasn't getting what she wanted.
"I could have made you a birthday cake," she says, sounding regretful. "A chocolate one. With this amazing icing my mom used to make that was borderline fudge. Fudge, Ryan! Fudge!"
Her words suggest annoyance, but her demeanor says otherwise. Her face is split into a wide smile, her eyes bright and dancing with mirth. She's teasing me again. I smile sheepishly, like an idiot. I look down at the kitchen table to avoid her gaze.
The difference between Ana's and Saph's whiny tones strikes me suddenly. Saph used it to get what she wanted. Ana's using it because she wanted to do something nice for me. Saph was motivated by selfishness and Ana is motivated by... what?
"Casper and I could have planned a surprise birthday party for you. You know how Casper loves planning parties." She gestures to the puppy.
Casper wags his tail, recognizing his name.
"See, he agrees with me."
"You could still make a cake, if you want to," I tell her.
"But now it's not a surprise anymore. And besides, I didn't get you anything." She looks disappointed.
"Ana, I really don't care."
"That's the problem!" Her exasperation is back. She leans closer, resting one hand on the back of my chair and the other on the table in front of me. She's looking me right in the eyes and for some reason that still scares the hell out of me.
"You've lived up here for years and don't celebrate holidays or your birthday or anything. You probably haven't had a birthday party in forever. No one should have to spend their birthday alone. I should know. I turned 21 two weeks after I lost my family. It sucked."
She pauses to catch her breath and blink away the tears that sprang into her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Ana," I say quietly, placing a hand on hers.
She takes a deep, calming breath and I pull my hand away from her, realizing that I'd instinctively reached out with my right hand.
Ana stands straight again, rubs at her eyes quickly, and jams her hands in her pockets. "Today's not about that. Today is about celebrating being alive. How long has it been since you last celebrated your birthday? How old were you the last time you had a party?"
I think for a moment. I can remember lots of stupid parties my family held for my birthday growing up, where I was the guest of honor in name only. As a kid, I used to leave my parties early. The years while I was deployed were a completely different story. The last birthday I had was in Afghanistan. "It was... I was 21, actually. Jeremy wanted to make fun of me for being the youngest in our squad. Tormented me all day, the little snot."
"In that case, I have to make up for five years of missed birthdays. And all I have so far is an idea for the cake." She scowls as she thinks.
I have to suppress a grin. Her little frown is adorable. I tear my gaze away from her and give myself a mental kick.Stop thinking that way. You are FRIENDS.
"I have an idea," I say, surprising even myself with this revelation.
She looks up at me with interest, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted. My gaze settles on her lower lip as I say,
"Stay with me."
Ana's lips come together, puckered as if for a kiss.FRIENDS, Burke, you're FRIENDS.
"What?" she asks. I look up to her eyes and see her confusion.
I cough slightly.
"I mean, you're still planning to stay here. Right? You're not planning to leave. Anytime soon."
I cringe at the halting, stilted words tumbling out of my mouth.
"No," she says. "You said I could stay as long as I wanted, right?"
"Y-yes, I just meant," I stop speaking and try to collect my thoughts. What did I mean? I've completely just given her the impression that I consider her presence here a gift to me.So not smooth. What is wrong with you, Burke? You used to be smooth! You were the coolest guy in school, the king of sweet-talking the ladies. I scramble to come up with something to dig myself out of this hole.
"If you're going to be staying here, long term, there's some stuff you need to know about surviving in the wilderness. How to navigate out here, survive sub-zero conditions for weeks at a time, avoid getting mauled by bears, how to find help if there's an emergency you can't handle on your own. That kind of stuff."
"That's what I have you for," she points out.
"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly invincible," I say with a vague gesture to my face.
Her eyebrows raise and a wry smile plays at her lips while I cringe at what I just said. I have never, never, made a joke about my injuries before. I must be desperate.
"Point taken. So my gift to you is letting you teach me about wilderness survival?"
Her face is a hybrid of confusion, suspicion, and a little dash of amusement.
"Uh, yes," I say, dismayed by how easily she's poked a hole through my attempt to preserve my dignity.
She crosses her arms and assumes an expression of exaggerated suspicion. "I know what you're doing," she says.
The amount of panic I feel at that statement is startling.
"You're just looking for another excuse to explain the composting process again, aren't you."
I choke out a laugh.
"I knew it," she says, giving me a teasing smile. "Your love affair with that compost pile is becoming an obsession. You need professional help." She turns and walks into the living room. She eyes the bookcase for a moment before pulling a book from it and returning to the kitchen table.
"Here," she says, setting the book in front of me. "Take this, go into the bedroom, and don't come out until I tell you it's safe."
"Ana, it's really not necessary-"
"Humor me."
And that's how I ended up sitting awkwardly on the bed where Ana sleeps, trying really hard not to remember that this is where Ana sleeps. This was my bed for the past 5 years, hers only for the past 4 months. Why do I permanently associate this room with her now? I try to concentrate on the book. The memory of her sleeping beside me in the tent last month dances through my mind. I stand up and walk around.
~~~
A knock sounds on the door.
"Come in," I say.
The door opens just enough for Ana to pop her head in.
"Do you have candles?" she asks.
"Yes, I'll get them," I say, starting toward the door eagerly.
"No, no." She holds out a hand, palm out, just like the hand signal we're using to train Casper to stay.
"Just tell me where they are and I'll find them."
I sigh, tell her, and the door shuts again. I settle for staring out the window.
"OK, you can come out now," she says, her voice muffled.
I open the door to find all the blackout curtains drawn and all the lights off. The sun doesn't set until after midnight, so this is the darkest the room can get.
Ana is standing next to the table, holding her guitar. When I emerge from the room, she begins to strum and sings "Happy Birthday."
On the table is a chocolate cake, unadorned but surrounded by the emergency candles I keep around in case of power outages. A folded piece of paper with my name on it is propped up in front of the cake.
"Happy Birthday Dear Ryyyyyaaaaaan," Ana sings. "Happy Birthday to youuuuu." She strums dramatically on the guitar as she holds the last note.
She looks up at me expectantly with a smile. I just stare at her. Illuminated by the dim light of the candles and holding her guitar, wearing an apron smeared with flour and her long curls bundled up in a messy bun, Ana has never looked so beautiful. She's utterly breathtaking.
"Well? Aren't you going to blow out the candles?" she asks.
Heat rushes to my face and I tear my gaze away from her to extinguish the little dancing flames. The room grows fractionally darker and I can't help feeling grateful for the cover.
"Did you remember to make a wish?" Ana asks.
I realize with a sinking feeling that I did make a wish, but it's certainly not one I'm prepared to share with her.
"No," I lie.
"Ryan," she says with playful admonishment. "You kind of suck at birthdays." She opens the curtain covering the kitchen window, letting light stream into the room. "I'll give you a pass because you're out of practice. But next year, I expect a birthday wish." She crosses her arms and smiles at me.
We stare at each other for a few seconds in silence. Ana is standing in front of the window, outlined by the daylight. The edges of her hair glow gold from the glare, forming a shining halo around her head.
"Aren't you going to try it?" Ana asks, indicating the cake.
"You don't want to wait until after dinner?"
"This is your birthday party! You get to eat dessert first. And last, too, if you want. Go wild! I'll even let you give a lecture on composting, and I promise not to fall asleep this time."
She pauses for a moment to smile conspiratorially.
"OK, I promise to TRY not to fall asleep."
"Maybe we'll start with how to find civilization and survive the trip there, then work up to composting."
"Do I smell a backpacking trip?"
I frown slightly. Ana's been a little too eager to go camping again.
"How about you cut the cake and then we'll talk," I say, deflecting.
"OK!" Ana says cheerily and retrieves a knife from the kitchen.
I pick up the piece of paper addressed to me and start to unfold it. It looks like she's written me a letter. I start to read it, but Ana snatches it away.
"Cake now, birthday card later."
~~~
It's not until after Ana's gone to bed that I finally read the "card" Ana made. It's a sheet of letter-sized paper, folded in half twice. Unfolding it once revealed a pretty generic birthday message that she'd written inside, but fully opening the paper reveals a handwritten letter covering the page in Ana's loopy cursive handwriting.
I glance at the bedroom door once before reading the letter.
Dear Ryan,
How do you write a letter thanking someone for saving your life, giving up their hard-won privacy to help a stranger, being incredibly generous, always being there for you, and just all around being an awesome human being? I wish I knew. This is my fifth attempt at writing this. Please don't pull the earlier drafts out of the trash. I may have to burn them.
I'm terrible at this. But the cake is about to come out of the oven and I don't have time to start a new letter all over again. What I'm trying to say is: you're one of the greatest people I've ever known. It's really a shame that you haven't had anyone around to tell you that, or throw you a birthday party, or just thank you for being you. You're someone worth celebrating.
Happy Birthday
Ana