She sits in the dark kitchen. Slowly deflating balloons float down around her. On the table beside her an assortment of party hats, napkins, and paper plates are set out. In the middle sits bowls of chips and pretzels, and a cake with pink icing with the words “Happy Birthday Kathy” written sloppily in white. The candles are burning. She stares at the flickering flames, completely lost in thought. Suddenly the front door opens and in he walks. She gets up nervously, worry lines creasing her face. He enters the kitchen wearily, taking off his coat slowly and throwing it over a nearby chair.
“Did you...” she whispers.
“No...no I didn`t.” He answers, moving over to the table and collapsing into her old chair.
She breathes deeply. “I`ll...make you some coffee” she says. She hurriedly moves away from him and busies herself with the makings of coffee; taking out mugs, stir sticks, and grinds.
“I looked everywhere” He says, head in hands. “I was sure I knew where...”
“How could we know where? We don’t even...” She breaks. Tears pour down her cheeks. He moves to her, wraps his arms around her, his tears blending with hers.
“What did we...” She chokes out, her voice muffled from his sweater.
“Do wrong?” He finishes. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He rests his chin on the top of her head and his eyes fix on the candles. Only half of them are burning now, the rest have melted into a multi-coloured pool on top of the cake.
She pulls away from him enough so that she can look at his face.
“Are you going to look tomorrow?” She asks, searching his face. She watches it cloud over, watches his brows knit together and his eyes harden slightly.
“No,” He answers bitterly. “I won`t. We are just going to wait”
She nods slowly. “We are just...going to wait.” She repeats quietly.
They exchange a sad smile.
“I think we should go to bed,” He says “Sleep is what we need right now.” He lets go of her and walks over to the stairs. He turns and holds a hand out to her.
“Just a second” She says. She walks over to the table and stares down at the birthday cake. One candle remains burning. The melted wax has now spread over the piped words, obscuring them completely. She closes her eyes and clasps her hands in front of her chest, as if in prayer. He watches her silently. She stays like that for a few minutes. When she opens her eyes she picks up a wooden match lying beside the cake and, striking it, she lights the pool of wax. The top of the cake erupts in flames. She turns towards him and takes his outstretched hand.
“Okay?” he asks softly.
“Okay.” She says.
They go up the stairs, hand in hand.
Out of the darkness, a girl’s face appears at the kitchen window.
Her eyes rest upon the cake of fire.
She smiles. She turns and disappears into the night.
