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A SLICE OF LIFE
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"Surprise!" a chorus of voices chanted.
Maeve halted in her steps and loudly gasped, jumping back a little in astonishment. People slowly circled her, clapping, smiling and voicing obligatory congratulations. Instantly Maeve bolted into the arms of her father, who accepted her embrace with a less than graceful stumble. Johnathan Byrne hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head and stroking her hair. Maeve’s tears spilled silently and freely down her cheeks. Reaching her hand blindly, she grasped Jack’s jacket and reeled him in. Jack whelped in surprise but wrapped his arms around them and planted a wet kiss on her temple. Johnathan and Jack had last seen her two Christmas’ ago, before her studies and work took her time hostage. They spoke plenty on the phone, but Johnathan wasn’t satisfied only hearing her voice.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart” Johnathan whispered. Patting Maeve’s back, he grasped her head in his hands and raised it to look into her eyes. They were already red and swollen, with her cheeks wet like roses after a heavy downpour.
“Wipe those tears,” Jack chastised gently, unlocking his arms. Teasing, he continued, “I’m strictly here for the food and alcohol.”
Maeve straightened herself, patting down her dishevelled hair and wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. Johnathan found himself feeling satisfied that his daughter, no matter how grown, still found comfort in his arms. Maeve sniffed and scanned her audience.
“I apologise for my bad manners,” she declared and gave a soft smile to her guests. They were all dressed in fine clothes, multi-coloured party hats and half empty glasses of champagne lay forgotten in their hands. Kevin and Deborah Conte stepped forward with beaming smiles. They kissed Maeve’s cheeks. “Thank you all very much for coming.”
“We wouldn’t dare miss it,” Deborah reminded. Her classic afro was gelled and combed back into a sleek style, paring it with a white pantsuit and pearls. Kevin wore a loose white button up, black slacks and shiny oxfords. He had immediately discarded the tie and blazer on his way over.
“Absolutely,” Kevin agreed, wrapping an arm around Deborah. He continued, “Happy Birthday, kid.”
Jonathan and Jack fell behind the crowd, watching Maeve steer idle chatter with ease and charm. If only Sara could see her now, Johnathan thought. Jack could read the drawn back look on his father’s face, perfectly knowing he was thinking Sara Byrne. Jack was thinking of her too. When Sara was killed, Jack was 10 and Maeve was 5. Time healed all wounds, but it didn’t remove them altogether. He remembered only the small details of her. The way she smelled in the mornings, the softness of her hand against his cheek and the almost undetectable small intake of breath when she was frustrated. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember her laugh, the taste of her cooking or what music she liked listening to. In contrast, Maeve remembered nothing at all. It was hard living without a mother, but Maeve grew up with Sara’s photographs lying around the house. Jack heard one thing in his youth more than anything else- how he looked exactly like his mother. The same blonde hair, green eyes and high cheekbones. Yet, looking at Maeve now, Jack saw her mother’s spirit. The same curious wonder, dimpled smile and good heart.
“Mom would be proud,” Jack said softly. Johnathan glanced at his son and nodded, accepting his words with a warm smile. Maeve despised surprises and most of all, parties. Else, however, quickly assured them it was a gathering of a few select people and not a party, but a celebratory dinner. Both men doubted the idea but Else won in the end. If Jack was being honest, the woman terrified him at times. How could such energy and force fit into such a small body? Thus, they obliged her every request.
The restaurant itself was intimate and elegant; a dimly lit space filled with four-seater tables, piano bar and an entire wall that was a fish tank. True to her word, it was only a small gathering. Jack and Johnathan acquainted themselves with everyone. They had heard of Suzie and Christopher, two of her classmates she often shared classes. There were her colleagues, chief editor David Dunne and junior editor, Elizabeth Williams at Sam&Jones Publishing. And Kevin and Deborah whom both men were more than familiar with. The Contes were very generous and kind, of which Johnathan was most grateful, to Maeve. They had first met at a parent-teacher conference, when Else was his student at the Elmwood Boarding School for Girls. After the girls became friends, they spent most holidays together, with Kevin and Deborah being regular guests at their humble home whenever they visited Else in Exeter. Johnathan speculated their fierce loyalty to Maeve was their way of paying their debt off to Johnathan, who himself had taken their daughter under his wing. Someone entered the restaurant. It was a tall, handsome man. He looked around curiously and when his eyes fell on the crowd, he hesitated. Else saw him immediately from the corner of her eyes and stepped away from the group, mumbling something about preparing the tables. Johnathan and Jack briefly glanced at them.
Maeve used this opportunity to excuse herself too and walked over to the bar. Jonathan was a tall, thin and quiet man. He had light brown eyes, brown hair and was 54 years old. Everything average except for his character. Jack was 26 years old, tall, muscular and intimidating until he showed his boyish smile. He had wavy blonde hair that fell just above his shoulders and bright green eyes. A stranger wouln't think they were related if tehy saw the Byrnes side by side. Maeve eyed their clothes, noticing both men were wearing their Sunday best. Jonathan was wearing a dark corduroy jacket and decade old flared trousers. Jack had opted for a pale blue oxford shirt, brown wool blazer and navy jeans. His khaki trench coat discarded over a bar stool. Jonathan and Jack grinned.
“You should have told me you were coming,” Maeve said. Johnathan merely shrugged as an apology.
“And face the wrath of Else?” Jack visibly shuddered. “I’d rather be poisoned, shot in the head, shot three more times, bludgeoned, castrated and then thrown into the River Thames.”
Maeve threw her head back and laughed, sympathising with his confliction.
“Turning twenty-one is once in a lifetime,” Johnathan offered.
“Duh, dad. So is every age,” Jack rolled his eyes. Johnathan lightly smacked the back of Jack’s neck. Jack rubbed the spot.
“Behave,” Maeve warned. “So, how are things back in Exeter?”
“Nothing big ever happens in small cities,” Johnathan replied. “Although, I found Jack a respectable woman to marry. Very pretty and from a good family.”
“Dad!” Jack groaned, shutting his eyes. Maeve beamed at him excitedly. “Arranged marriages are barbaric.”
“What?” Johnathan perplexed. “Just trying to help. I’m afraid if you don’t get married now, you never will.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Maeve bit back her laughter and consoled Jack’s forearm with a gentle pat.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Jack retorted, bemused.
“Yes!” Johnathan deadpanned incredulously. “I want grandchildren.”
“Maeve! What about Maeve?” Jack sighed in frustration, slumping against the bar.
“She’s not hopeless,” Jonathan retaliated, winking at Maeve.
“Yet,” Jack mumbled, looking at Maeve. She raised her hands and shook her head, supporting a devilish grin. “Et tu, Brute?”
Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Else and a man carried the birthday cake slowly towards Maeve. It was a carrot cake, a picture printed made of icing covered the surface with a few candles already lit. Maeve internally groaned. It was the picture Johnathan took when they had taken a trip to the outdoor swimming pool. The day had been humid, and Maeve’s curly hair had exploded into a bird’s nest. Her mouth was agape, a slight frustration in her scowl and cheeks tomato red from falling asleep under the sun. Maeve hated that picture and Else knew this. When she was about to say something, the stranger caught her attention instead. The beautiful contours of his face, dazzling eyes and warm smile unmistakably belonged to Wang Shu.
“Happy Birthday to you,” everyone chanted. Maeve didn’t move or blink, only stared at Wang. Johnathan frowned, cast a worried glance at her and rested a hand on her shoulder. Whilst everyone waited, Jack wanted to roar in laughter recognising the flustered look in his sister’s eyes. So, he’s Else’s surprise.… he thought. Else made him vow not to intervene when she confessed Maeve had a secret crush and he would be in attendance. The worry had been if he did not reciprocate Maeve’s feeling but by the same intense, unwavering stare reflected in the young man’s face, he guessed otherwise. It was obvious the man liked Maeve. No longer bearing the silence, Jack kicked Maeve in the shin with the tip of his boots. She shrieked, rubbing her ankle against her calf and scowled at Jack. He inclined with his head to the cake. Maeve swallowed hard.
“Make a wish…” Wang whispered. Maeve raised her eyes and breathed in. I want to kiss him tonight…she wished and puffed a waft of air blowing out all the candles. Everyone cheered and clapped, and Jack popped a bottle of champagne in celebration. Else removed the candles, setting them on the counter. When Jack finished refilling everyone’s glasses, he glanced at Maeve and narrowed his eyes.
“Hmm. Maeve, what is that on the cake?” Jack gasped. Maeve observed the cake, inching closer but not noting anything abnormal. Jack shoved her head into the cake, the plush icing taking an imprint of her face. Jack used his phone to take a picture. Another one for the collection, he thought. Maeve huffed a shriek and swung for Jack. He dodged.
“Jack!” she shouted amidst the laughter and cheer. “Every time?”
Johnathan quickly pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the icing from her eyes. Using the tips of her fingers, she gathered a chunk of icing and flung it at Jack. He dodged again. Jack doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach. Else with glee, announced that the food would be served and asked the guests to take a seat. Maeve looked across the table, questioning Else when she saw the place cards; Maeve was expected to sit next to Wang. She only shrugged, twisting her head to hide a smile.
“If you would excuse me. I need to freshen up,” Maeve announced, motioning to her face. Jack hid his snicker behind a cough. Maeve swiped a lather of icing on his cheek, satisfied with his surprised grunt. Revenge is best served sweet, she thought in triumph. Laughter arose around once again.
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Maeve plucked dry pieces of icing from strands of her hair, winching when it tugged against her scalp. Stripping off her jacket, she inspected herself in the mirror and undid her ponytail. It fell to her midriff. Maeve took a long deep breath. With a childish temperament, she stomped her feet and closed her eyes in embarrassment as if it would render her invisible.
“Why did he have to see me like this?” Maeve groaned, embarrassed. Observing herself again, she thought of how she could salvage the moment. If she had been warned of Wang coming, she would have accepted anything from Else to wear. But, remembering the short tight red dress she was wearing today made her shudder. Her eye caught her white button up. Maeve unbuttoned the first few and bent a little forward, observing her cleavage.
“No, no, no,” she repeated, dissatisfied. “I can’t spend the whole night bent over.”
She patted some water on her face and neck, giving up. Maeve could not muster up the energy to care how she looked anymore. Wang had to like her as she was, icing and all. Whilst Maeve was battling with herself, she failed to notice Wang leaning against the door frame. He observed her with an amused smile. There was a neurotic bluntness in her actions, always lost in her own world and unaware. Goosebumps had covered his entire skin when she stood there in the middle of everyone, watching him slowly walk up to her and he wanted to look away from the intensity of her eyes. It was a challenge he did not intend to lose. In the library, he stuck behind bookshelves and behind a computer to catch a glimpse of her. Their conversations were simple, where was this book or did the library have a copy of an article, and after every single interaction, he promised he would ask her out the next time they would meet. However, when it came to it, he would get flustered. He had never been good with these sorts of things.
“Hi,” Wang announced. Maeve whipped her head towards the voice, her breathing catching in her throat for the second time that night. At this rate, she would need to walk around with an oxygen tank.
“You make it a habit of barging into the women’s bathroom?” Maeve tried to joke, but her voice squeaked. Wang chuckled.
“I apologize,” he said. Wang walked to the basin and started washing his hands. He didn’t need to but wanted to have an unthreatening reason for being closer. Under the bright lights, Maeve took the opportunity to observe him. He was wearing a grey turtleneck, black leather jacket and black jeans. Maeve tried to remember if she ever saw him with gel in his hair but couldn’t. It was parted and combed to the side. She liked its black sleekness and shine. Wang turned off the tap and glanced at Maeve from the mirror. She’s staring, he thought smugly.
“You make it a habit of staring at men?” Wang teased and saw blood rush to her cheeks, catching his eyes in the mirror. Maeve continued to stare at him in defiance. She was not going to back down.
“I try not to,” Maeve replied, “but I’m now finding it difficult.”
Wang swallowed and twisted his body to face hers. He noticed her hair was lighter than he first assumed, it wasn’t dark but a walnut shade of brown. Not just long and curly either but tussled in between were strands of straight hair. Wang also realised her eyes weren’t brown but infused with green, a ring of dark gold around her inner iris. It was as if she held the new spring growth inside. They were the forest floor and gentle flowers, somewhere to rest and breathe. When he didn’t speak, Maeve checked her face again.
“Do I…still have icing on my face?” Maeve asked.
Wang picked a small piece of icing in her hair and deliberately put it inside his mouth. He rolled the icing on his tongue, humming in appreciation. What am I doing!, he noted incredulously.
“Sweet. Very sweet.”
Else burst into the bathroom calling out for Maeve and thus, breaking the spell. Both Maeve and Wang looked at the intruder, their eyes a little glassy and mouths agape, and instinctively took a step back. Else placed her hands on her slender hips. Maeve focused on the shiny sequence embellishments on Else’s dress; hiding herself from the curious gaze of her friend.
“Have I… interrupted something?” Else asked arrogantly. Maeve and Wang shook their heads but Else raised her eyebrows as a dare. Busted, she thought. She walked over and inspected Maeve’s face. “Good. The icing is all gone.”
A pregnant pause.
“Every last little piece,” Wang finally offered, rubbing his thumb over his mouth. Innocent and inconspicuous, but Maeve felt her cheeks flush at his subtle hint. Wang didn’t know whether to admire his sudden bluntness or be frightened by it. Else looked over at him and pursued her lips, observing their silent exchange.
“People are waiting,” Maeve grabbed her jacket. “Shall we head inside?”
“Depends. Are you done here?” Else asked but Wang placed his hand on her back and ushered her out of the bathroom before she could say anything else. He knew she had good intentions but Else wasn’t known for being a big mouth for nothing. Maeve took a long, deep breath and followed closely behind.
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