Seven came and went.
People checked their watches.
“Where’s the birthday boy?” someone joked.
“Probably stuck in traffic,” I said. I checked my phone. No text.
At 7:20, headlights swept across the windows.
“Here he is!” someone called.
The DJ lowered the music a bit.
Everyone sort of turned toward the front door.
I wiped my hands on a napkin and stepped into the foyer, ready to say “Surprise!” even though technically it wasn’t a surprise.
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