250"Are you sure that a party's completely necessary?" Erik's words were muffled, his face pressed into the crook of her neck, and she could feel his smile. They'd been through this already.
"Yes, Erik, it's necessary if you've never had a birthday party before," Christine told him.
"You know I would be perfectly happy with just the two of us doing something tonight."
She drew back a little to meet his eyes. "We don't have to have a party if you really don't want one," she told him. "The most important thing is that you enjoy today. But, I don't know, I just thought that a little party with the people who love you might be nice. And I don't want you to miss out on experiences that you've never had."
Erik's smile softened and he pulled her close again, his skin warm against hers. "I know, and I appreciate it. We'll have the party tonight."
"And it's only Meg and Nadir," she reasoned. "It'll be nice and low-key. Besides, we have all day to spend just the two of us. If we ever make it out of bed, we can go sing together."
He hummed thoughtfully. "That does sound nice, but I'm also quite content here…"
Christine laughed. "Well, it's up to you. We're doing whatever you want to do today."
"You're determined to make today special, aren't you?" he said, tilting his head to press his lips to hers.
It was an odd thing to celebrate something that he'd never even considered worth celebration before. His birth had always seemed to him at best unworthy of note and at worst something regrettable. But, as always, things were different with Christine. She found today worthy of celebration; he had lived another year, and she wanted him to be as happy about that fact as she was. And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he was happy about that (so, he supposed, if there was any birthday worth celebrating, it was this one). Even when things hadn't been particularly bad, part of him had always questioned whether the effort of being alive was worth it. It had been quite a while since he'd questioned that. Still, actually celebrating was still an adjustment.
One of his earliest memories was a birthday. He remembered the dim light of his mother's house, the constantly closed curtains ensuring that no more than a sliver of sun ever penetrated the artificial yellow glow—he'd always wondered if, after he'd left, his mother had breathed a sigh of relief and opened all the curtains now that she had nothing to conceal. He remembered the old dining table, ornate but scratched and worn, an inheritance from either her parents or her grandparents. That table had always felt needlessly vast. It never seated anyone but the two of them. He remembered looking across the expanse of polished wood at his mother, trying not to watch her too closely because that would surely earn him a scolding; she was always telling him not to stare at her like that. She'd been an attractive woman, blonde and slender with delicate features and intense hazel eyes. Her features were marred by a look of perpetual exhaustion, though, as if she was permanently at the end of her rope, and he knew how easily that face could harden into the cold expression that had always sent a jolt of fear through him, even when he'd grown older and defiant.
But on that night she'd been different. When she'd finished eating, she'd straightened and met his eyes across the table. He'd shrunk back a little, preparing himself for whatever rebuke was coming, but he'd noticed something odd in her expression. There was a strange kind of softness about her face—he now recognized it as guilt.
"I have something for you," she'd said, standing before he could ask what it was.
She'd gone into the kitchen and returned with a small white-frosted cake. The box bore the logo of the supermarket where she had worked at the time. Erik had been confused, but he'd said nothing as she cut a piece of the cake and placed in on his plate.
"Today's your birthday," she'd told him. "You're four years old."
Erik had nodded, taking this in. He knew what a birthday was—he'd encountered them in the books he was learning to read and in the TV shows he half-interestedly watched sometimes. It had never occurred to him, though, that he must have a birthday too, or that these things were recognized at all outside of fiction. He'd looked back up at his mother to find her watching him carefully. He took a bite of the cake and it had seemed to please her, so he'd continued eating it even though the frosting was too sweet and made his tongue feel gritty.
There had been a handful of times like that when his mother had seemed to be struck with a wave of guilt, or something like it, and had tried to make it up to him in some small way. The goodwill would never last long, though. Soon enough he'd do something to frustrate her again and things would go back to normal. He couldn't remember what he'd done on this particular occasion, but he was sure it was something.
Just as Christine had promised, the day was leisurely and comfortable and entirely pleasant. Much of the afternoon was spent in the music room, and despite how many hours they had already spent in this room, it was about the most enjoyable way to spend an afternoon that Erik could imagine—Christine by his side on the piano bench, her voice warm and her smile affectionate as they sang. There truly was no sound in the world than he liked better than the sound of her voice, and when they sang together, their voices melding and harmonizing, it felt… peaceful. Complete. It was difficult to remain focused on the music at times. He'd catch himself listening to her and realize that he was starting to lose track of what they were singing or what he was playing, or there would be a particular moment when everything came together perfectly and it would take his breath away, and he'd have to remind himself not to be completely swept away by it. There were times, too, when he'd glance over at Christine and she'd meet his gaze with a soft smile, and suddenly his heart would feel so full that it was all he could do to keep tears from springing to his eyes.
Eventually Christine stood, pressing a kiss to his cheek and saying that she needed to get things ready, that Meg and Nadir would be here soon.
"You're sure that you want the party still?" she asked gently. "It's not too late to cancel if you really don't want to do this. I wouldn't be offended."
He smiled. "I'm sure, Christine. You're right—I should probably experience this at least once. And, while it does involve more people than I would normally like, I suppose it does sound… pleasant."
Christine laughed a little. "I think you'll enjoy it more than you think. And you know that Nadir and Meg won't stay forever. We'll still have some time alone tonight."
"I'm looking forward to that."
"You should be," she replied, her eyes flashing playfully, and she laughed a little at the slightly astonished look on his face as she turned and left the room.
The only birthday that he'd even come close to celebrating on his own was the first birthday he'd spent in this house. When he'd been wandering, it had been easy to lose track of the days, and even though he'd been relatively settled in Iran, he'd been far from caring about how many days were passing. But then he'd found himself here, feeling relatively comfortable and safe and beginning to live a life that was as close to normal as he believed he'd ever get. There was no more constantly moving from place to place, no more searching for a place to hide himself away. For the first time in years his head was clear, and for the first time in his life he had a home, stability, and security.
He hadn't told Nadir about the date—he really hadn't even thought about it himself. It had just occurred to him halfway through the day, and he had paused as it suddenly hit him how different his life was now than it had been for so many years. It wasn't gratitude, exactly, that he felt—it was more of a dull shock at the fact that he had managed to arrive at a place in life that he'd never expected to get to. He'd poured himself a drink and, for a few moments, allowed himself to sit and let it sink in that this was his life now. He'd been here for a while, but it felt strange and foreign as he really considered it for the first time. There was a feeling of safety that, while perhaps a bit precarious still, didn't feel fleeting. And while his nights were still plagued with nightmares and memories of every horrible thing he'd gone through and every horrible thing he'd done, his days were relatively peaceful (he hardly dared to use the word "peaceful," even in his own mind). It seemed very possible that he could lose all of this in an instant and be right back where he was a few years ago, but at least for now he was here; perhaps he could allow himself to appreciate it.
Part of him felt much the same now as he watched Christine prepare dinner—she had insisted on doing it without help from him, and he was left standing around, feeling a bit aimless. Christine had changed into her red dress—a favorite of his, she knew—and looked nothing short of stunning as she made the final preparations for Meg and Nadir's arrival. She'd glance over at Erik from time to time and gave him that warm, earnest smile of hers that always set his heart racing. Not for the first time, he wondered how he had managed to get here, how his life could have changed so drastically in ways that he wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams only a couple of years ago. This wasn't something that he had ever expected or even hoped for, but here he was. Here he was with this incredible person who seemed to have an endless capacity for love and compassion, who made him feel so safe and adored that suddenly the world seemed a bit less dangerous. He'd never felt more distant from his life before her or from the person he'd been then. And even now, after all this time, the fact that she wanted to be here with him was entirely beyond his understanding. He still struggled to bury the fear that this could come to an end at any time. But little by little, he'd found that the fear was growing less insistent, easier to push to the back of his mind. Every moment that she spent with him, every smile that she gave him, every night that she fell asleep in his arms, eased the fear of losing her just a little bit.
They both heard the car pulling up outside, and Christine crossed the room and took Erik's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He smiled and leaned down to quickly kiss her, and again he was struck with the wish that tonight would be just the two of them. But she was doing this for him, he knew; she was doing it to make him happy, and he would be a fool not to appreciate that.
"This will be fun," she said gently, as if reading his thoughts. "I promise."
The front door opened before he could reply, and Nadir came in and greeted them warmly, followed a few minutes later by Meg. Christine met them both happily, and Erik thought that perhaps her enthusiasm was contagious—he had no trouble returning their smiles. In a few minutes they gathered at the table and Christine served the dinner she'd made, and the conversation came surprisingly easily as they ate. Christine blushed and laughed as Meg shared stories that her father had told about her as a little girl, and Erik found himself chuckling at these, feeling the tension leave his shoulders and the slight tightness in his chest fade. It was a bit of an odd feeling to be around multiple people like this and not feel terribly on-edge, but he was beginning to grow accustomed to it. It had been much the same when he had sat with Nadir and the Girys at Christine's opening night: perhaps not entirely comfortable, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as he would have expected. There was even something a little reassuring about having other people around, he supposed, even if it wasn't something he was used to. Maybe this was what Christine had hoped he'd see tonight.
"So how is preparing for the move going?" Nadir asked as they sat comfortably around the table, dinner finished and the dishes cleared away.
"It's coming along," Erik replied. "We have the apartment taken care of, so now we're just figuring out the logistics of getting there."
"The fun part," Christine added wryly, and Erik laughed a little. "But yeah, everything's gone pretty well so far."
"You must be looking forward to the move."
"I am," she said. "It's pretty intimidating, but I'm really excited about it. I think I'll be really relieved when we're there and I can start auditioning. Of course Erik doesn't think I'll have any trouble there, but I'm not expecting landing a part in something to be a quick process and I'm a little antsy to get started."
"I'm with Erik on this one," Meg said, taking a sip of her wine. "I don't think it'll take too long for you to be discovered."
"Well, as long as you guys are sure, I bet it'll be fine," Christine smiled. "Meg, did you bring…?"
Meg nodded. "It's in the car."
"Great." Christine stood and followed Meg out of the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Be right back!"
Erik and Nadir shared a look. "Do you know what this is?" Erik asked.
Nadir shook his head, looking amused. "But I'm happy to see that Christine keeps you on your toes. It's good for you."
A second later Christine and Meg reentered, Christine carrying a large tray with a plastic cover. Placing the tray in front of Erik and removing the cover, she revealed a prettily decorated cake, complete with candles.
"I made it at home so you wouldn't see it," she told Erik, and he gave her a grateful smile.
"Thank you, Christine. This looks very nice."
She returned his smile and turned to get the lighter. Coming back to stand by his side, she quickly lit each of the candles and glanced at him expectantly, and he gave her a slight nod. He'd said explicitly and repeatedly that, if they were to have a party, presents were not to be involved—the idea of sitting there while everyone watched him receive gifts made his skin crawl a little—but this, at least, seemed tolerable enough. Putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Christine led the singing, and Erik looked down at the cake, his throat suddenly tightening and his face growing pleasantly warm under the mask. Having people in his life, people who cared enough about him to be here tonight, was indeed an odd feeling. But he was beginning to think that perhaps it was odd in a good way.
He looked up again when they had finished singing, glancing briefly at Meg and Nadir before he turned his head to look at Christine. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Her answering smile was warm and gentle. "Make a wish and blow out the candles," she told him.
He paused for a moment before blowing out the candles; he wouldn't tell her that he hadn't actually wished for anything. He'd never been one for wishful thinking, but more importantly, he hadn't been able to think of anything to wish for. Christine looked satisfied, though, and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his head before cutting and serving the cake.
Nadir and Meg didn't stay too late into the night. Meg left a little while after they had finished the cake, citing an early rehearsal the next day, but warmly wishing Erik a happy birthday before she left. When Erik thanked her for coming, his thanks was sincere. Nadir rose to leave a short time later, and Erik walked with him to the door.
"This was a nice night," Nadir said, and Erik nodded.
"It was. Having people around was… more pleasant than I expected."
Nadir chuckled. "I'm glad that you're finally starting to feel that way. I've always thought that having more people around you would do you good."
Erik hesitated, his words feeling a bit awkward when he spoke. "Thank you for always being around," he said quietly. "Even when I didn't want you to be. You've put up with a lot from me, and I… I appreciate it."
Nadir looked a little surprised by the statement, but he nodded and clapped Erik on the shoulder. "You're welcome."
Erik gave another nod, unsure of what to say, and Nadir turned and walked out into the night, leaving Erik to stand for a moment and watch him go. It was a bit of a relief to be alone with Christine again, but that wasn't the only reason for the lightness he felt, for the warmth in his chest. He turned down the hall to find Christine cleaning up in the kitchen, and her expression softened when she looked up and saw him.
"So was tonight okay?"
He crossed the room to wrap his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I enjoyed this, Christine. Thank you."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself closer. "I'm glad. I just wanted you to know that I'm not the only one who loves you."
"I know," he said softly. It wasn't something that he had expected to know or believe. But, as always, Christine seemed to have a way of convincing him.