After Happily Ever Afte- Astrid Ohletz Page 0,43
going to wear?” Lane was almost bouncing in her seat. As she visibly paled, Kym’s eyes widened again, and Lane quickly backpedalled. “Nope, never mind, that’s pressure.”
“What do I wear!”
This time, Lane looked desperately to Anna.
“You wear your black dress pants and killer black heels with your dark green shirt. Leave the top two buttons undone, and wear it tucked in with that thin black belt.”
Lane and Kym blinked at her.
“What? You look good in that outfit.”
“Okay,” Kym said again.
“Do we get to know who he is?” Lane asked.
“I met him at the supermarket. He took the last tub of ice cream I was going for but then insisted I take it.”
“Aw!” Anna nudged Lane in the ribs none too subtly. Clearing her throat, Lane pursed her lips. Anna suspected she was holding back an excited grin. “I mean, continue.”
“Anyway, I ran into him there a few times, and he eventually asked me. I meant to say ‘no’, but ‘yes’ fell out, and then he had my number, and now I’m going out tomorrow night.”
“Do you need distracting?” Anna could see in Kym’s wide eyes that she was near panic, even as Anna had to bite down her excitement.
“Yes, please.”
Standing up, Anna started gathering bags. “Right. Lane, you’re putting the toys in the goody bags. Kym, you’re putting in the lollies.”
With a soft thump, Lane slid off the edge of the couch to sit on the floor and pulled more bags towards her. “And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make the pass-the-parcel.”
Already sorting non-choking-hazard toys into a pile, Kym grumbled under her breath. “Why do you get the fun one?”
“Don’t challenge that,” Lane said. “She’s planned every layer of that thing.”
Across from them on the floor, Anna sat with one leg out in front of her and the other bent, foot pressing against her opposite thigh. She grabbed the scissors. “Don’t support her idea that I’m being too pedantic about all this, Lane.”
Kym shook her head. “Anna. It’s a two-year-old’s birthday.”
“It needs to be perfect.”
“Why? It’s a birthday. You told me you hate birthdays.”
“Because.” Anna started tearing opening packets of lollies and various fillers with vigorous intent. “Toby is a kid. He should love his birthday. And Sally always made a really big deal of it all. She’d invite her entire mothers’ group and half of Ella’s school, and she’d bake for three days.” Her voice lowered slightly, fingers fiddling with a chocolate. “At Ella’s party, a few weeks before Jake and Sally died in the accident, all the cupcakes were little frogs, and her cake was made to look like an art box. Their parties are—were—always like the ones you see in movies.”
Anna started cutting wrapping paper to various sizes, jaw clenching. “And, well, now Toby just has me. I can’t bake, I’m the professor of hating birthdays, and I’ve never thrown a child’s party before.” She blew some hair out of her eyes. “I want him to have what he would have had if his mum and dad were here.”
There was silence except for the sound of Anna’s scissors cutting through paper. She could feel their stares on her. Gently, Lane’s fingers wrapped around Anna’s foot, giving it an affectionate squeeze when Anna looked up with burning cheeks.
“Toby’s birthday will be amazing. And he is incredibly lucky to have you. Your brother would be so happy to see what a great job you’re doing with his kids.”
Throat tight, Anna managed a small smile.
Kym poked her in the leg. “And Toby’s getting a Thomas cake; you just didn’t make it. Let’s not joke, Anna: that’s a good thing.”
A plastic whistle flew past Kym’s ear.
“Hey! Don’t throw your party supplies. It’s not like you bought enough to supply four schools or anything.”
“Kym, I’ll put you on games duty tomorrow.”
That shut her up.
Her chin thrust out in victory, Anna went back to her paper. “That’s what I thought.”
Lane smirked and leaned over Kym to top up all their glasses on the coffee table. She raised hers up in toast: “To Kym and her date we’re not mentioning, to Anna and the first birthday party she’s in charge of, and to Toby, who has no idea what any of the weeks of effort mean—Oh, and to Ella, who is more excited than everyone else combined.”
Laughter rang out as glasses clinked together to celebrate the night ahead, of organising a Thomas the Tank Engine-themed two-year-old’s birthday party.
Hours later, they all staggered upstairs, exhausted and a little tipsy. Anna checked on