Tonight is kickoff night, but Em doesn’t know it. She’s got a hell of a birthday present coming to her.
Anna and David have already gotten us a table and I’ve gone racing ahead to go to the bathroom. Well, as covert as I can be with delivering this package while under the guise of going to the bathroom. Remember, for those of you playing at home, I’m not exactly a subtle creature.
That’s why I’ve got Anna.
Em is comfortably playing on her phone in the car -I think- and I jet to a halt at Anna and David’s table. It’s one of Taco Mac’s patented rock-hard wooden booths, the kind that inspires one to drink to forget the seething lower back pain. Or, alternately, inspire a nondrunk customer to leave. That is, if you can get your check over the cheering and yelling. Someone’s playing someone else on the giant TVs. I’m pretty sure there have been political revolutions quieter than this place.
But then, this is Taco Mac. The point of this place is to chow on wings and see how many different beers (of their approximately six hundred zillion) you can try without going in for a closer inspection of the linoleum.
As Anna sees me, her face lights up, an impish grin playing across her features.
“So that’s it, huh?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “That’s it. This is gonna come last after your presents.”
“Ah hah ha.” Yes, Anna pronounces her evil laugh quite phonetically. I’m glad she’s on my side. “This is going to be good.”
I allow myself a rare smile at the proceedings. “I hope so. Let me grab Em from the car.”
Five minutes later, Em and I stroll into the Taco Mac. Barring special circumstances, she’s always on the left, and I’m always on the right. The way her gait works means she uses her right arm for balance more than her left, and having someone to hold her hand improves her pace and her balance.
Which is all lovely, but naturally, the real reason is that smile, those blue-gray eyes, the high cheekbones, all framed by her glasses and the thin, academic lines of her eyebrows.
Yes, I’m smitten.
“Well, aren’t YOU Mister Proud Of Yourself,” she teases as we walk in. Perhaps I’m strutting a little much, but I’ve put in a lot of work since that fateful day I got the reservation at Disney. The master plan is beginning to stir to life.
“I mean,” I say, which is a verbal tic we share. The jury’s out on which of us said it first. “It’s your birthday. And I think you’re gonna like your present, Miss Spoilerpants.”
“I only kind of spoiled my Christmas present.”
I shoot her a look. “Right. You wanted one hint. One. And you figured it out from that.”
She grins. “Not my fault you’re not good at surprises,” she teases.
Oh, wait until you see, Em.
“Fair enough,” I say, letting the conversation dissipate into the din of the restaurant as we sit down with Anna and David.
The meal proceeds easily enough, and it’s only after Em finishes opening her presents from Anna and David that I glance across the table from us, looking pointedly at Anna.
“Oh yeah!” she says. “Looks like something’s come in the mail for you.”
She hands a thick manila mailing envelope to Emily. Clearly, it’s been well packed.
“Gallifrey Bureau of Logistics?” Em grins. “Doctor Who. I wonder who THIS is from.”
I laugh. “Open it up.”
Inside is the last book that Emily ever expected to see: Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes, by Maureen Johnson. It’s a favorite of Emily’s, despite her having gone on record with quotes like “okay, it has the girliest cover of all time” and “well, it IS young adult fiction.” Don’t believe it when she downplays the book. She loves every last word.
Not only that, but she’s been trying to get me to read it for ages.
“I know it’s girly, but why don’t you give it a shot?” - Typical Emily plea
“Well, maybe, but it won’t be for a while. I have tons of other studying to do first.” - Typical (of me)
noncommittal topic-ender, specifically as I’m reading the book on the other end of the phone.
Perhaps here is a useful time to describe the basic plot and structure of the book, Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes. It concerns a girl, Ginny, who receives a curious parcel from her Aunt Peg, who until recently, resided in Europe. It's especially curious, because Aunt Peg has been deceased for some time now - it's as if Ginny's aunt is reaching across time to communicate with her niece.
Inside Ginny's parcel are the eponymous thirteen little blue envelopes, as well as a debit card and a set of instructions telling her how this escapade is going to work. She ends up traveling all around Europe, from London to Italy to France to Greece and more, following the path that Aunt Peg laid out for her before her death. Ginny's travels through Europe mirror the journey that Aunt Peg undertook all those years ago when she arrived, young, inexperienced, and nearly penniless in London.
For being young adult literature, and for being incredibly girly (we're talking about measuring estrogen in quantities usually reserved for the study of astronomy here), it's an incredible book. I chalk this up nigh-upon-entirely to the talent of the author, Maureen Johnson, who manages to nail each separate voice in the story with ease that comes off as casual to the reader.
All the Doctor Who trappings? I threw those in for fun.
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