by Ashlynn Monroe
"O-M-G, Whit, get your nose out of the book before someone sees you and thinks it's me again. You are such a terrible twin. I hate how nerdy you are, sis.” Willow didn't sugarcoat her criticism of her sister.
Looking up at her twin, Whitney began closing her very dog-eared copy of Alice in Wonderland. The sisterly bond they shared had grown strained since the beginning of adolescence. Willow knew how to make her long, blond hair curl just right and apply her makeup perfectly. With blemish free skin and a size zero figure, she was the envy of the rest of their freshman class.
Smart, bookish Whitney shrank into the background, forgotten and rejected. Whitney never worried about what the other kids thought of her. She just enjoyed quiet evenings at home with her homework and her book collection.
“Don't worry, Willow. I promise to start wearing my nametag again so no one will mistake us! I'd hate to think I might ruin your reputation by being myself,” Whitney shouted. Her angry voice also held a hurt tone.
“Whatever, Whit. Don't be such a crybaby. Are you going to tell Mom how mean I am to you again? Maybe she can take away my CDs or keep me home on Friday night, like last week, so you wouldn't feel so bad that no one likes you?” Willow spat the ugly, angry words at her sister. "I'm so much prettier. It's so too bad you're so ugly. Honestly, we aren't twins anymore. Have you looked in the mirror pizza face? Fat and zitty. Oh, no wonder the phone rings off the hook. Oh, wait. Those calls are for me. I hate you for being such a waste of space; I wish you'd just die. Thank God we aren't conjoined or something because you're so ugly people would think you're my butt.”
Tears welled up in Whitney's eyes. She threw her book at her sister and ran off into the twilight grayness.
Willow placed the very dirty and tattered copy of Alice in Wonderland back on its shelf. Today was her birthday. It was also Whitney's, if she was still alive out there…somewhere. The day never made her happy, always too much of a reminder. Thirty sucked, and getting old made her want to hide from the calendar. Staying in touch with high school friends was a challenge. They were all getting married and having babies.
She avoided commitment like the plague. Most men would love a woman who didn't expect a ring on her finger, but Willow had noticed her current beau starting to hint at a change of living arrangement wasn't her thing.
Cooper arrived late, as usual, for her birthday dinner. His hair looked stiff with too much product, but she loved his new clothes. She hoped the bulge in his pocket meant he was happy to see her and not a ring box. That would be the death of her nice, comfortable, steady relationship.
"Do you like the flowers?" he asked, handing her a large bouquet of roses and white carnations surrounded with a variety of greenery.
"Thank you, Coop. They're very nice." Obediently, Willow replied. Cooper didn't seem to notice her wooden tone. His smile was just a bit too happy. He nodded his head and his smile turned into an enthusiastic grin. Since she’d put out long ago, and it was her birthday not his, something else was up with him.
The short drive to the restaurant felt too warm for early spring. Cooper put the top down on his convertible. Willow knew her hair would be a mess. As she began to pull the blowing strands out of her eyes, she glanced over at Coop and quickly stifled her chuckle. His hair didn't even move in the wild turbulence as they drove, the gel kept it hard as if it were made of brick. A young valet parked the car; Cooper helped her out and onto the curb in a gallant, courteous gesture.
Her long red dress, held up by fine spaghetti straps, hugged her body like a second skin. She'd stopped doing much with her appearance after Whitney went missing, but tonight she allowed herself to enjoy how her dress flattered her curves. She could tell he liked it too, as his appreciative gaze left her flushing as she walked in with him.
"I can't believe you got us a table for tonight. You must've made reservations months ago," Willow whispered.
"It's got to be the best for my gal on her twenty-fifth birthday." Willow almost forgot she'd lied to him about her age. Yep, it's the end of the good times. He's going to spoil everything tonight.
A pretty, redheaded hostess, brought them to their table. They’d had time for only one drink at the bar. Willow brought her margarita with her to the table and a well-dressed waiter took their orders. The pristine white tablecloth and expensive china gleamed under the lights.
Everything shimmered in the dim light as candles flickered on every table. Cooper twitched nervously as they sat down. He even knocked a wine glass off the table, but the hostess caught it just before it hit the floor. He was definitely up to something. Willow highly doubted she was going to like his surprise. No one gets sweaty and fidgety before giving the gift of socks or a new sweater. Oh, Coop, please don't do this!
They ate small, fancy, artsy creations while making awkward small talk. His agitation increased, he fiddled with the napkin and kept rubbing his hands against the top of his thighs. She’d never seen him so edgy. It really irked her how he chose the anniversary of her birth as an excuse to make her feel obligated to accept a big commitment. She grew angrier with each of his fidgets.
The waiter came, removing their plates. He didn't offer dessert, annoying Willow further. It was her birthday after all, and she wanted something sweet. Chocolate cake would be perfect.
Her annoyance grew to a mammoth size when the waiter returned with a huge piece of triple chocolate cake for each of them. Cooper must have prearranged the order; she really hoped her dessert wasn't ruined with a key or a ring. She'd hate to swallow it and choke to death on her birthday. He watched her stab the desert expectantly. Yep, the waiter put a key in my cake.
Annoyance filled her brain, hazing her vision an angry red. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry she began stabbing at her cake viciously. Glancing up, she saw the waiter's eyes enlarge, and wanted to laugh at his horrified expression. He knew the jig was up. Stabbing randomly into the gorgeous dessert, she scowled. The entire confection was a mess on the plate, overwhelming relief consumed her. No key or ring hid in the cake, waiting to stab her throat.
She'd let her mind play tricks on her. Laughing at herself, she scooped the mess into a pile and began to eat. Cooper must have ordered the cake because he knew chocolate was her favorite, and he was just being thoughtful on her birthday. No wonder the waiter looked nervous. He must have thought she was crazy and anti-cake. Taking a big bite, Willow smiled at Cooper. Her time was not running out. The man hadn't pushed her. Choking on the bite, she realized something wasn't right with what she'd tried to swallow.
Cooper rushed over and began to thump her on the back. Other diners stopped to stare at the gasping woman with a messy splattering of cake on the plate in front of her. The waiter came up behind her and raised her up out of her chair. She began to lose consciousness. A quick application of the Heimlich maneuver by the fast-thinking server saved her life. Big ass tip for you my friend.Gagging and sucking in a lung full of air, she glared at Cooper. An object had popped out of her throat and landed unattractively on the tablecloth. Looking down with horror she realized what had almost killed her. A ring glinted at her. Oh Coop, what've you done? Please tell me I was eating another woman’s cake by mistake.
Cooper picked up the slimy ring, got down on one knee, and took her limp hand. The waiter let go of her and stepped back. Willow could hear other women sigh. Some even began berating their dates for not being ready to commit. Helplessly, Willow stood frozen as the horror of the moment washed over her. Worst gift ever. Did you really have to get us an audience for this?
"Willow, will you do me the honor of being my wife? I love you, and I don’t want to live another day without knowing I can hold you for the rest of our lives." He gazed up at her with a pleading honesty that tore her heart.