The Lunacy Fringe

In the morning, I woke up early on purpose. I didn’t want to risk the chance that Felix might wake up before me. We hadn’t really slept all night together often, but I learned he was a light sleeper pretty quickly. I watched him for a second as he slept beside me. He was on his stomach, hands tucked under his pillow. But he only shifted onto his back and kept on sleeping.

He’d left a shirt lying on the floor, so I climbed out and put it on. Then I tiptoed to the small kitchenette to find the boxes I’d stashed in the fridge. Hiding them was, unfortunately, not possible. There was a piece of paper with the words “DO NOT OPEN” on them. They were for him and not me. But I couldn’t guarantee that he hadn’t snuck a peek.

I pulled a plate out and opened the first box. I set the giant cupcake on it and then surrounded it with chocolate-covered strawberries. I even got champagne to go with it. He definitely knew about it because there was no way I could hide the bottle in the back of the tiny fridge. I poured a glass and then stared at the absolutely terrible breakfast I was about to serve.

I should have got bacon or pancakes or something. But I brought cash so we could always go out to eat later if he wasn’t sick from all the chocolate. And okay, I ate like three of the strawberries before I even finished decorating the plate.

I crept back to the couch bed and set the plate on the table beside him. He’d turned his head to the side, subconsciously avoiding the light that was beginning to grow through the windows, casting shadows on the blankets. He was still blissfully asleep, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the sunlight got too bright, and he’d inevitably wake up irritated. So I hurried to my bag, pulled out another bag, tossed off the shirt, and set the bag down beside the plate. Then I stuck a candle into the cupcake and lit it, climbed on top of him, and dumped the bag of rose petals directly onto his face.

“Jesus Christ,” is the first thing he said, swatting at the petals. His eyes popped open, but he blinked at me a few times before everything seemed to click into place.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” I said. He blinked a few more times. Then he looked down. Then at the cupcake. And then back at me.

“You know I was only joking about the rose petals, right?” he finally said. His hands moved from their startled position by his face to my hips.

“No, no, no. I don’t think you were. People make jokes about things when they’re actually serious. I read between the lines.”

“I was also joking about the breakfast in bed naked part—but I’m not going to complain.”

“I didn’t think you would. But I don’t know how good of a breakfast it is. Here.” I lifted the plate and handed it to him. He had to shift us both so he could lean against the cushions on the back of the couch.

“I was also joking about the strawberries.”

“I wasn’t. They’re so good.” I stole one and bit into it. He just watched me, mind apparently jumping ahead. “Go on,” I pushed, nodding toward the rapidly melting candle. “Make a wish.”

“I have to admit—I don’t think there’s much else I could wish for.”

“So, find something else to wish for.” He concentrated for a moment, probably still not awake enough to think of something too deeply. “Wait. Hold on. I have to sing.” I put the stem back on his plate and set my hands on my hips to sing him the “Happy Birthday” song. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Either I was a complete dork, irritating for waking him up so early, or he was turned on because I was sitting on top of him in my birthday suit.

He smiled when I finished and blew out the candle.

“What’d you wish for?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“Will you tell me if it comes true someday?”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“I can work with that. Eat up.”

“As delicious as this cupcake looks, I can’t imagine actually eating it right now.”

“Why?”

“Because the only thing I can think of is how to maneuver this blanket out from between us.” I laughed.

“Sit tight. Because I have another gift for you.” I took the plate and set it on the table again. Then I leaned in like I was going to kiss him. But instead, I slid my hand into the cushions and located the other surprise I’d hidden there. Then I pulled it out and held it up between my fingers. He laughed and took the condom from me.

“You always come prepared, don’t you?”

“I knew what I was doing.”

“Very nice gift wrap.” He moved to open it, but I yanked it out of his hand.

“I’ll do it.”

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Then I glared and tossed the blanket over my head. The only thing he had to say after that was, “Oh. Okay—you know what you’re doing.”