When Everyone Came

This is my best birthday party ever!

The house is full. I can’t remember the last time it was this way and I don't know since when I've become so popular, so loved, so... celebrated. But this year, every single person I could have wished for is here.

My mom has never skipped my birthday, not once, so it's good to see her again today, smiling in the way she does when she’s both happy and a little overwhelmed. She’s not as busy as usual with the cooking or decorations or running around with trays of food, but she did choose my dress. Soft lavender lace with a dark purple silk band around my waist, the kind of thing I would’ve picked myself. I love it.

My dad… Oh, he is a pleasant surprise. The last time he attended was my tenth birthday. Back then, he brought me a telescope and promised we’d look at the moon together. That night never happened but I kept the telescope anyway. Now he’s leaning against the living room archway, holding a glass of something amber, smiling like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

My little brother who is not so little anymore—he is taller than half the men in the room—is there, too, more social than usual. I am glad he is more chatty this time, talking to guests, my friends, his, our neighbours. He also dresses well, they all do.

Cousins and uncles and people I haven’t seen since I was barely old enough to remember faces have driven miles to be here. My childhood friends from the neighborhood, my high school circle, even a few new friends from college—they’re all mixing like they’ve known each other for years, sharing their thoughts about me. Some praise my dress, others my makeup. Some of them talk about my achievements. Some of them talk about our past memories.

“Yes, I remember that,” Sarah says as Benjamin tells the story of me climbing over the fence to kidnap a neighbor’s cat. “Her shirt got stuck on the fence.”

They laugh.

“She knew the house was empty and the cat would have starved. It was the right thing to do, though as impulsive as it was. Right, Joyce?” Benjamin glances back at me and winks.

I smile, warmth blooming in my chest.

Then my attention drifts when I see my brother guiding someone in through the front door. My breath catches. Here he comes, my high school crush, Zach.

He’s exactly as I remember: handsome, tall, sun-browned skin, dark hair neat in a crew cut. But the liveliness I remembered in his face seemed to have slipped away, his jaw sharper. There’s a faint tremor in his hands. His eyes that I’d once thought could outshine the Friday night stadium lights look sunken, shadowed with sleeplessness.

We haven’t seen each other since graduation last year, when I left for college. But four days ago, he called. Said he wanted to meet. Said he had a surprise for my birthday. My heart had leapt at the fact that he knew, that he even remembered. When he asked if I could come back home, I said yes without hesitation. I jumped into my Clio, drove through the night, and imagined, over and over, how it would feel to celebrate my birthday with Zach there.

“Hey. Zach, isn’t it?” My college friends, Addie, Dean, and Joel, reach him before he sees me.

“Yes?” Zach puts his left hand behind his back, hiding the little bouquet of white lilies, tied with a ribbon.

“Nice to meet you,” Addie says, shaking his hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And see your photo, too,” Joel adds with a teasing grin.

“Joyce never stopped talking about you, her favourite quarterback.”

I gasp. I can’t believe Dean just says that. My crush on Zach has never been a secret at college, but my high school friends never knew. I kept it quiet, mostly because of his popularity, and because I wasn’t sure if he’d ever look at me that way.

“Did she?” Zach’s face flushes red. My heart flutters at his reaction.

“Yes,” Addie says assuringly. “She was excited to meet you again.”

“I—I don’t know what to say.” Zach looks down, swallowing hard. His shoulders slumps. His fingers tighten around the bouquet.

“Are you well, Zach?” Dean asks, resting a hand on Zach’s shoulder. “You look a little pale.”

“Yes—yes. I’m fine. I want to see her.”

“And she’d be happy to see you here,” Addies says with a warm smile.

Something shifts in Zach’s expression. His voice comes out low, almost strangled.

“But I'm late. It's too late now,” he pauses, biting his lips. “I should’ve—I should've driven to Groveswood to meet her instead of making her come here. And she wouldn’t…” Tears drop from the corner of his eyes as he glances toward the far end of the room.

Toward my casket.

He walks forward slowly, like the floor might collapse under him, like each step costs him something. His hand shakes as he sets the lilies at my feet.

“We’re supposed to celebrate your birthday together, Joyce,” he says. His voice cracks on my name. “Look—” He fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I know you love fishing, so I’ve booked us a trip. We would hike a little and camp beside the creek.”

My heart aches.

Tears fall freely now, tracing lines down his face. His jaw is tight, the veins in his neck visible. But he doesn’t wail, he just cries silently, in the way that hurts more to witness.

“I’ve always loved you, Joyce,” he whispers. His fingers wrap around my cold fingers. “I wanted to tell you before I—”

His head rests on the side of my casket. Slowly, his body gives way, sliding toward the floor. Dean and Joel rush to catch him. Addie calls my parents. And in the midst of this chaos, someone holds my hand.

“Why didn't you wait?” Zach stands besides me, watching people shake his body that is still kneeling next to my casket.

“I’m still here, am I not?” I squeeze his hand back.

His eyes find mine. The noise of the room disappears. His lips curl into a calm smile.

“Happy birthday, Joyce.”