I'd been there since first thing in the morning -- decorating. The place did Martha Stewart proud with tons of fresh blooming plants, candles everywhere, and a ceiling filled with helium balloons in Greg's favorite shade of blue. I'd called a friend at a cheap but terrific restaurant to do the pastas, the salads, the bruchetta... the spread was great.
All of Greg's friends were there, including the gang, of course. All we needed was the Birthday Boy. I had called him and begged him to go to dinner-- and to meet me at Mocha Daze. I said Hugo was closing the place early so when Greg showed up, it wouldn't look weird with all the lights out.
We sat there, in the dark for what seemed like hours - -though it was probably only thirty minutes. We had on bizarre Chinese caps Fran had gotten from Chinatown -- we had noisemakers and those little champagne bottles with a string that you pulled and confetti exploded from....
We waited...
Then footsteps on the sidewalk outside and, "Drew?!" The front door of Mocha Daze opened -- and...
SURPRISE!!!!! We got him good. He looked like he'd just seen a ghost.
People really knew Greg. He was on his seventh gift -- and seven in a row...? All clothes! He'd become a clothes freak in the past six months, great shirts, new jeans, amazing shoes, he was in heaven.
Eric was behind me, his arms around my shoulders and enjoying the party a lot. He didn't seem to be in an anti-Greg mood -- he'd left his disagreements at the door, I guess.
Hugo was having a blast yelling at people outside the store to, "Get lost, we're having a private orgy in here!" Though I did notice he barely said two words to Greg.
Fran was in fine form, cracking jokes and goofin' off. She kept the music turned on and playing all night.
All of Greg's friends from his art world applauded when he opened my present to him -- new brushes. Apparently, I'd done the right thing -- he burst into mock tears, telling me he'd paint his next work of art just for me.
Greg picked up a small box and began to open it. "Greg, dummy -- read the card first." I reminded.
He opened the little gift card, one of those that normally comes from the florist with a bouquet of roses. He made the funniest look when he read it.
"Drew, it's for you." The room fell silent.
I guess everyone there must have known about what'd been happening to me lately -- all the letters, the dead flowers, the notes. Suddenly I felt like throwing up.
"Drew, let me open it." Eric offered and took the box and card from Greg.
"NO!," I heard myself say. "Let's just get this over with." I was furious that somehow it'd happened again. And most of all, this was ruining Greg's party.
I took the box and card. Bravely, though my head was swimming, I ripped open the little gift card...
It's your birthday every day of the year!
Love and Lust
The box contained a bottle of expensive champagne and a little stuffed teddy bear.
Harmless.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, me included. But relief was the last thing I was feeling. With each "submission" from Rudy Marinaro -- I felt another piece of me being tampered with and another wave of fear passing overhead.
