Chapter 31Wills’s birthday was at the end of August, and I was making plans to celebrate it—dinner, a cake, presents, the whole ball of wax.
Cards began arriving, mostly from New York, where a good part of his family lived, but a couple were from Florida, and I was pleased to see that one of those was from my family.
A huge box had arrived from Cambridge earlier in the week, and he’d opened it and the cards in it, from his Dad and Jill, from Jar and Marti, from Alice, but refused to open the presents it contained until the thirty-first.
“Aren’t you curious?”
“Sure, but my family trusts me to wait until it’s actually my birthday to open the presents.”
His actual birthday. Which fell on a Saturday. And for a change, he had the weekend off. s**t. I wanted to have the apartment decorated
