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“Becca,” Jamie hisses, grabbing her sleeve as she walks by the booth. “You’re still coming tonight, right? You didn’t answer my text.”
Rebecca raises her eyebrows and bats Jamie’s hand away. “I didn’t answer your text,” she says bemusedly, “because I’ve already told you a thousand times that yes, I’ll be there.”
“Right. It’s just— it’s important.”
“Do you think,” she starts again, “and hear me out— do you think perhaps you’re trying a bit too hard?”
Jamie scoffs. “I don’t think I’m trying hard enough. You’ve met Dani, right? Seen her, talked to her?”
Rebecca’s eyebrows are reaching her hairline now. “Yes, Jamie. If you’ll recall, I introduced you.”
“So you should realize—“
“That your eyes literally turn into hearts when you think about her?”
“As they should,” Jamie counters brusquely. “I don’t wanna screw this up. And you’re my coolest friend.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. We both know Hannah is cooler.”
She can’t really argue with that. But she needs both of them there to tip the scales in her favor. Doc Martens and stony-eyed smirks aside, Jamie isn’t very cool beneath surface level. And it’s been nearly eight months since she met Dani, more than half that (five months, one week, and three days, but who’s counting) since they first had a drink together in the only decent and affordable pub their tourist trap of a town has to offer. It’s been long enough that Dani knows all of Jamie’s friends, and long enough that Jamie knows all of Dani’s. It’s been long enough that Dani should have figured out that Jamie isn’t worth it. And yet.
Anyway, if Jamie’s trying too hard, it’s only because she wants Dani to feel welcome. And to like her. Love her, maybe, if that’s what Dani wants to do. Because Jamie’s a little bit— well, pretty much—
“You’re so far gone,” Rebecca says, patting Jamie’s shoulder, “aren’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“At least you have good taste.”
“Yeah,” Jamie huffs, “for once.”
Owen, balsamic vinegar covering his apron, makes an appearance to personally serve Jamie her mango lassi and hand over Rebecca’s takeout. He confirms his RSVP three times at Jamie’s request and gets a few teasing words in while she glares and sips through her straw, feet and fingers tapping.
“You added more strawberry, right?” She urges. “Dani likes strawberry.”
“Yes. I know. Because she’s sweet, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He smirks in that annoying way that’s only visible through a quirk of his mustache. “You definitely did.”
Jamie can’t argue. She definitely did.
“It’s just,” Hannah starts, browsing an aisle of scented candles, “I don’t really know what Dani likes. Other than teaching. Well, that and…”
“Jamie,” Owen provides, nodding. “I’m not quite sure either. She’s smart, funny, kind— as one has to be to put up with Jamie.”
“Oh, you love her.”
“I do, I suppose. But I don’t know Dani well enough. You know how much I hate giving generic gifts. If I’m already making the cake, I don’t guess more baked goods would be appropriate.”
“I’m sure she’d love more baked goods.” Hannah scrunches up her nose and replaces a three-wick candle with a cartoon of some bright, unidentifiable cocktail on its side. “Really, I think she’ll be happy with anything. She’s probably not expecting much at all.”
“Jamie is. She threatened my mustache if I’m not on my best behavior.”
“I don’t think,” Hannah corrects, “Jamie will even look at the gifts. You’ve seen them at the restaurant.”
Owen laughs as they turn the corner into kitchen wares. “She couldn’t even tell me what she ordered the first time.”
“They’re both a bit private, aren’t they? Perhaps a nice saucepan?” Hannah asks. “She must cook if she and Jamie are cohabitating. Otherwise they’d be in A Batter Place every night.”
“Then she already has a favorite saucepan,” Owen mumbles and shakes his head at an insufficient one. “Everyone does.”
Hannah rolls her eyes, hoping they manage to leave this aisle in time for the party.
By the end of Dani’s work day, Jamie’s already been pacing the school parking lot far longer than she’d like to admit. It isn’t every day that she drives her — the shop typically stays open an hour later than the school — but Jamie kind of wishes it could be. Today being Dani’s birthday, Jamie’s passed the reins to her coworkers and scheduled an early close to get the shop party-ready. Owen has a spare key and, if there’s any good in the world, a delicious mostly-strawberry strawberry-lemon cake already cooling so he can finish setting up before they arrive. Until then, Dani and Jamie have a few hours on their own. Dani, just now exiting the school, is smiling so brilliantly that Jamie entertains the possibility that she may be trying a tiny bit too hard.
“Hey,” she greets breezily, pulling Dani in for a tight hug and a kiss on the temple. “Happy birthday.”
“You said that, like, five times this morning,” Dani laughs. “Hi. How was your day?”
“Alright.” Jamie takes the bag off of Dani’s shoulder and opens the door for her. “Still okay for tonight? Your friends are still coming?”
“Of course. I’m excited.”
They slide into the bench seat of the truck and head out. Jamie knows, at this point, the best route to avoid after-school traffic. She gestures to the radio controls and takes Dani’s hand once she chooses a station.
“How are the gremlins then? Get any birthday presents?”
“I did, actually.” Dani leans against the window, pulling Jamie’s hand onto her thigh. “Last year at Christmas, I got five of the same mugs with owls on them.” She laughs and lowers her voice. “I might still have all of them.”
Jamie snorts. “All that potential for a good cup of tea, wasted.”
“Hey, it’s my birthday! You can’t make fun of me.”
“Yeah?” She tugs Dani’s hand over and kisses it. “Sorry about that. Promise to make it up to you. Anything you want.”
Dani just grins and shakes her head.
The Leafling has never been so alive, and Dani is speechless. Every surface decorated with vines and flowers and wreaths, a giant pink-frosted cake bearing her name on the counter, Jamie’s friends and their shared ones and her own filtering in and mingling in the opened-up lobby. It’s more than she expected. It’s extravagant, really. Somehow, it’s not too much.
“What d’you think?” Jamie asks at her side, voice high and a little shaky. Dani can only turn, tears in her eyes, and kiss her until they’re both breathless, right there in front of everyone.
When Dani frowns at her phone for the third time in an hour, Jamie fills them each a glass of champagne and crosses the room to sit with her.
“Your mum call yet?” she asks softly, passing one over.
Dani shakes her head. “It’s okay. She probably forgot.”
“It’s earlier there, though, right?”
“Yeah.” She shrugs and pockets her phone. “It’s been a while, but— doesn’t matter.”
“Sorry, love.” Jamie reaches around her shoulder, stroking her sleeve with her thumb. “Know what that’s like.”
Dani hums. “It’s so nice getting to see everyone. I mean, I never thought I’d see Viola smile at a man, and look at her and Owen!”
“Can’t figure out what it is about him, but I guess there’s something.”
“I think it helps that the kids are talking him up,” she says, a little light laughter brightening her voice. “I mean it though. Thank you for this.”
“C’mon, you know this is really all for me.” Jamie bends to kiss her head. “Have to show you off as often as I can.”
“Of course,” Dani says. “That’s why you’ve been nagging your friends about being cool to impress me.”
“Never,” Jamie insists, grinning in spite of herself. “Who told you?”
“Honestly? Rebecca, Hannah, Owen, Henry, Flora, Miles. Miles at least four times.”
“So everyone I invited?”
The grin creeping onto Dani’s face makes the embarrassment undoubtedly worth it. “Yep. Your friends know you’re soft, Jay.”
“Am not,” she mumbles, giggling as Dani leans over to kiss her jaw. “M’hard as a rock.”
“Never thought they’d find something in common,” Jamie observes, nodding toward Eddie and Hannah at the counter, where they’re laughing and quoting (apparently) hilarious Bible jokes from Eddie’s phone.
“I’m glad,” Dani giggles, a few champagne glasses in, wrapped around Jamie and swaying to her very own curated birthday playlist. “I was a little worried he wouldn’t talk to anyone.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“Nope.” She kisses Jamie’s shoulder. “Just wanted you to have me all to yourself.”
“On your birthday? So generous.”
She shakes her head. “Best present I could ask for.”
“Have I mentioned how lovely you are?”
“A few times, yeah.”
“How about how beautiful?”
“Yes,” Dani laughs. “That too.”
“Brilliant?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Gorgeous?”
“Uh-huh. And — let me think — spectacular, angelic, effortlessly cool…”
“Well,” Jamie starts, and maybe it’s the alcohol on her weakened tolerance, or maybe it’s that this hugging-swaying dance lets her hold Dani without looking her in the eye, and maybe it’s that she dropped frosting on her shirt and Dani only laughed affectionately and wiped it off with her thumb, but something— something gives Jamie the urge to say, “Have I mentioned that I love you?”
Dani freezes for a moment in her arms, stiff and silent, before pushing back a little to look her in the eye, brow furrowed.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— I mean, I do though. Love you. I love you.” She winces, catching a tiny, inexplicable change in Dani’s expression. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Dani laughs, looking stunned but — maybe, hopefully — happy. “You’re ridiculous. Don’t be sorry.”
“Okay?”
“I, um— I love you too, actually.”
“Really?”
She laughs again, and this time, still wary, Jamie laughs with her. “Yeah, really.” She shakes her head and presses a firm kiss to Jamie’s lips. “I love you.”
Jamie’s face is on fire. “Guess I do throw a good party.”
“Stop.” Dani kisses her again. “It is a good party, though.”
“Isn’t it?”
It’s winding down, that’s for sure. Owen and Hannah have migrated into chairs, her drowsing head on his shoulder while he tries to eat cake one-handed so as not to disturb her. Rebecca and Henry are each bearing a sleeping child, Flora’s arms loose around Rebecca’s neck and Miles draped on Henry’s lap, still clutching the comically large umbrella he’d picked out for Dani’s gift. Eddie is talking with them quietly, his hand periodically stroking Miles’s hair. Viola and Perdita, having consumed more champagne than anyone, are the only others still dancing in the center of the room.
“It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?” Jamie nudges her shoulder. “So are you.”