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“Happy birthday!”
“Er…thank you.” Carlos said, accepting the neatly wrapped gift that Cecil was holding out. “But I think you’ve got it wrong. Isn’t it your birthday?” It was, wasn’t it? He had the date circled on the calendar, but calendars couldn’t always be trusted. Or circles, for that matter.
“It is.” Cecil said. “Which is why I got you this. C’mon, open it!” He was rocking up and down on the balls of his feet, looking very excited about something.
Carlos turned the package over in his hands, inspecting it. Maybe this was just how things worked in Night Vale. No other holidays seemed to happen like they did in other places, so why should birthdays? He just hoped that this particular celebration wouldn’t turn out to involve any sort of ritual human sacrifice. No matter how many times Cecil reassured him that it was always completely, absolutely, mostly consensual, Carlos had never really felt comfortable with the whole concept. And the screams were very unnerving.
He began to rip off the shiny wrapping paper, which was printed with colorful, anatomically-correct drawings of actual hearts, apparently from all sorts of different species. It was very interesting- from a scientific point of view, that is. He wanted to look at it more closely, but he put the paper aside when his attention was drawn away by the contents of the present. Inside it just looked like a piece of fabric, white, carefully folded. He held it up in front of him, and let the force of gravity do the unfolding for him.
It was an apron. Very plain, very simple, except for the large, red, embroidered letters across the chest that spelled out “Kiss the Cook”
“Do you like it?” Cecil asked. “I saw it in the store and couldn’t help thinking of you.” He slid one arm around Carlos’s waist, causing Carlos to jump slightly in surprise. Hadn’t Cecil been over there just a second ago? He hadn’t seen him move. But then again, Carlos had learned on many occasions that things such as time, space, and reality-which most people took for granted- simply weren’t always real.
Carlos looked over the apron one more time, rereading the bold letters, and a smile began to spread across his face. Now he was starting to understand why Cecil had gotten him this particular present, on this particular day.
“I love it,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Cecil said back, practically purring into Carlos’s ear. “Now, how about that birthday dinner you promised me?”