Page 93 of Savior
“Sure.” I wouldn’t mind listening to a few more songs. Soft, slow piano music begins to play as Dean places the little dessert menu down between us.
We’re glancing over Greek inspired desserts, when the words she’s singing now, register. I lift my eyes, locking with Dean’s, as the lyrics clearly struck us both, simultaneously.
It’s almost haunting… Though maybe, only to us. She’s singing the song much slower. In a sadder, far more longing way than the original singer did, which is why it took us both a moment to recognize it. She’s performing it closer to the version Mary Lambert sang.
“Can’t get away from this song.” Dean mutters under his breath, as we sit through this heavy rendition of Jessie’s Girl.
“We can skip dessert.” I offer. “I don’t want this to ruin our night.”
“It’s just a song.” He sighs. “Your birthday was already ruined once, I’m not going to let that happen again. Though, I’ll be honest, I’ve lost my appetite for dessert.”
I lift my hand to grab our waiter’s attention.
“What are doing?” Dean asks, concern over taking his expression.
“Asking for the check so we can leave.”
“Vanna, I didn’t mean to… Fuck, it’s just a damn song. Order something, please.” He insists, dragging a hand through his hair with distinct agitation.
When the waiter arrives, I’m about to ask for the check when Dean interjects with, “It’s her birthday!” before I get the chance. I turn to look at him with surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“Attempting to salvage this night.” He sighs, then looks back at the waiter. “How about it? Can you bring my lady a slice of cake?”
“Very good, sir.” The waiter says, walking off again.
I sit back in my chair to stare at him. “What was that?”
“The stupid song is already almost over.” He sighs. “Your birthday was already ruined once. Eat the cake, Vanna.”
“But what if I wanted Baklava for dessert?”
“I’ll order some to go.” He says, about to signal to another waiter when I grab at his arm to stop him.
“Don’t you dare!” I nearly laugh. “Making us look like the crazy couple over here who can’t decide what they want or if they’re leaving. It’s bad enough they’re probably going to…” my words trail off as a look of momentary horror washes across Dean’s face, before he presses his lips together and looks back at me, wide eyed, as if he’s trying not to laugh.
Several of the staff are already singing Happy Birthday, before they even make it back to our table.
“Damnit Dean.” I mutter under my breath, sitting back again as I brace myself for the embarrassing spectacle. I keep the fake smile plastered on my face as they clap and sing, placing a sparkly crown made of fake seashells on top of my head, along with the slice of birthday cake down in front of me. I mouth I’m going to kill you, at Dean as he folds his arms and brings his hand to his face to hide what I know is a big grin at my expense.
At the conclusion of the song, Dean asks for the check, and I scowl at him as I remove my glittery crown and blow out the candle.
“I don’t even want to know what you just wished for.” He jokes.
“You’re lucky it doesn’t count, since it’s not even my real birthday.” I tease him.
“Let me make this up to you.”
“Oh, I think you’ve done enough.” I say, pulling the candle from the icing on the cake and placing it down on the edge of the little plate.
“I owe you a night on the beach. Let’s walk back to the hotel along the shore. Will that make you happy?” he asks with a hopeful smile.
The moon, now officially full, lights up the sand in an ethereal glow as we walk barefoot along the shore line together.
“I would have taken you, you know. You didn’t have to sneak out last night.” Dean says, lacing his fingers with mine. “I had every intention of spending some time with you on the beach tonight.”
“Well, I didn’t know you were going to try turn this into a romantic weekend getaway birthday redo.” I say.
