Cecelia Ahern - The Gift

“I’ll do it for you,” Alexandra said to her husband, wrapping her arms around him, and Lou found himself having to look away, feeling mildly jealous.

“You’ve never raced before.” Quentin smiled. “No way.”

“What time is the race?” Lou asked.

Nobody answered.

“Of course I can do it,” Alexandra said with a smile. “Isn’t it easy? I’ll bring my bikini, and I’ll let the rest of the crew bring the strawberries and champagne.”

The family laughed again.

“What time is the race?” Lou asked again.

“Well, if she races in her bikini, then I’ll definitely let her take part,” Quentin teased.

More laughter.

As though suddenly hearing his brother’s question, Quentin responded without looking him in the eye, “Race starts at eleven a.m. Maybe I’ll give Stephen a quick call.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

“I’ll do it,” Lou said, and everyone looked at him in shock.

“I’ll do it,” he repeated.

“Maybe you could call Stephen first, love,” Alexandra said gently.

“Yes,” Quentin responded, turning back to his phone. “Good idea. I’ll just go somewhere quiet.” He brushed by Lou and left the room.

Lou felt the sting as the family turned away from him again and talked about places he’d never been, about people he’d never met. He stood by idly while they laughed at inside jokes he didn’t understand. It was as though they were speaking a secret language, one that Lou was entirely unable to comprehend. Eventually he stopped bothering to ask the questions that were never answered, and eventually he stopped listening, realizing nobody cared if he did or not. He was too detached from the family to make it up in one evening, to check himself into a place where there was currently no vacancy.

LOU’S FATHER WAS BESIDE HIM, looking around the room like a lost child, no doubt feeling nervous and embarrassed that everyone had come tonight for him.

“Where’s Ruth?” his father asked.

“Eh,” Lou looked around for the hundredth time, unable to find her, “she’s just chatting with some guests.”

“Right…Nice view from up here.” He nodded out the window. “City’s come a long way.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it,” Lou said, glad he’d gotten one thing right.

“So which one is your office?” His father looked across the river Liffey at the office buildings, which remained lit up at this hour.

“That one there, directly opposite.” Lou pointed. “Thirteen floors up, on the fourteenth floor.”

Lou’s father glanced at him, obviously thinking the numbering peculiar, and for the first time Lou felt it too, could see how it could be perceived as odd and confusing. This rattled him. He had always been so sure about it.

“It’s the one with all the lights on,” Lou explained more simply. “Office party.”

“Ah, so that’s where it is.” His father nodded. “That’s where it all happens.”

“Yes,” Lou said proudly. “I just got a promotion tonight, Dad.” He smiled. “I haven’t told anybody yet. It’s your night, of course,” he backtracked.

“A promotion?” His father’s bushy eyebrows rose.

“Yes.”

“More work?”

“Bigger office, better light,” he joked. When his dad didn’t laugh, he became serious. “Yes, more work. More hours. But I like to work hard.”

“I see.” His father was silent.

Frustration rose within Lou. A single congratulations was all he wanted.

“You’re happy there?” his father asked casually, still looking out the window, the party behind them visible in the reflection. “No point in working that hard if you’re not, because at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”

Lou pondered that, both disappointed by the lack of praise and intrigued by his father’s thinking at the same time.

“But you always told me to work hard,” Lou said suddenly, feeling an anger he had never known was there. “You always taught us not to rest on our laurels for a second, if I recall the phrase exactly.” He felt tense.

“I didn’t want you all to be lazy, by any means,” his dad responded, and he turned to look Lou in the eye. “In any aspect of your life, not just in your work. Any tightrope walker can walk in a straight line and hold a cane at the same time. It’s the balancing on the rope at those dizzying heights that they have to practice,” he said simply.

A staff member carrying a chair in her hand came up and broke the quiet tension. “Excuse me, who is this for?” She looked around at the family. “My boss told me that someone in this party asked for a chair.”

“Em, yes, I did,” Lou laughed bitterly. “But I asked for chairs. Plural. For all the guests.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have that amount of chairs on the premises,” she apologized. “So who would like this chair?”

“Your mother,” Lou’s father said quickly, turning to the others, not wanting any fuss. “Let your mother sit down.”

“No, I’m fine, Fred,” Lou’s mother objected. “It’s your birthday; you have the chair.”

Lou closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had paid twelve thousand euro for his family to fight over the use of a chair.

“Also, the DJ said that the only traditional music he has is the Irish National Anthem. Would you like him to play it?”

“What?” Lou snapped.

“It’s what he plays at the end of the night, but he has no other Irish songs with him,” she apologized. “Shall I tell him to play it for you all now?”

“No!” Lou snapped. “That’s ludicrous. Tell him no.”

“Can you please give him this?” Marcia interjected politely, reaching into a cardboard box she had underneath the table. From it, party hats, streamers, and banners overflowed. She handed the woman a collection of CDs. Their father’s favorite songs. She looked up at Lou briefly while handing them over. “For when you fucked up,” she said, then looked away.

It was a short comment, delivered quietly, but it hit him harder than everything else she’d said to him that evening. He’d thought he was the organized one, the one who knew how to throw a party, the one who knew to call in favors and throw the biggest bash. But while he was busy thinking he was all that, his family was busy with Plan B, in preparation for his failures. All in a cardboard box.

Suddenly the room cheered as Quentin stepped out of the elevator along with Gabe — whom Lou hadn’t known was invited — each with a pile of chairs stacked up in their arms.

“There are more on the way!” Quentin announced to the crowd, and suddenly the atmosphere picked up as everyone looked to one another with relief.

“Lou!” Gabe’s face lit up when he saw him. “I’m so glad you came.” He laid the chairs out for a few elderly people nearby and approached Lou, hand held out, leaving Lou confused as to whose party it was. Gabe leaned in close to Lou’s ear. “Did you double up?”

“What? No.” Lou shook him off, annoyed.

“Oh,” Gabe said with surprise. “The last I saw of you, you and Alison were having a meeting in your office. I didn’t realize you left the office party.”

“Yes, of course I did. Why do you have to assume the worst, that I had to take one of those pills to show up at my own father’s party?” Lou feigned insult.

Gabe merely smiled. “Hey, it’s funny how life works, isn’t it?” Then he nudged Lou.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the way one minute you can be up here, and then the next minute all the way down there?” On Lou’s puzzled look, Gabe continued, “I just mean that when we met last week, I was down there, looking up and dreaming about being here. And now look at me. It’s funny how it all switches around. I’m up in the penthouse; Mr. Patterson gave me a new job — ”