The Birthday Card
Two people, wronged by those they loved, take part in an act of revenge, with an unexpected consequence.
This is a standalone story, written in the first person, in which, for the most part, neither character speaks. I've posted it under Erotic Coupling, but, like many other stories, it spills over into other genres, including, in this instance; Anal Sex, and Romance. There is also some humour, buried in the twist at the end.
If you don't like it, tell me. If you do, please also tell your friends.
...
The knock on my door, came with an air of surprise that failed to move my lacklustre mood. When I answered, I couldn't find the interest to ask why Carol was here, outside of the fact it was my birthday and in her hand she held a card.
I hadn't seen Carol in more than a year. Not since my slut of a wife, had run off with her toad of a husband. The fact the two women had been best friends, wasn't my problem.
When Carol didn't offer the card, I figured she wanted to come in, so I stood to one side. The unspoken gesture was taken up, and she dashed past into the house. I attributed her haste, more to the fact it was bitterly cold outside, than any eagerness she might have to see me.
I closed the door, and remained there for a moment, still holding onto the handle. It gave me a chance to think what was behind this unexpected visit. It wasn't as if Carol and I, knew each other. She, and her rich douche of a husband, had moved in different circles. Her friendship with my now ex-wife, merely a hold over from their youth, and hadn't, at least before today, been extended to include me.
Having come up with nothing that made any sense, I figured I'd go get the answer, and followed her into the sitting room.
Carol's discarded coat lay over the back of my sofa. She, herself, stood between that and my log fire, which, as far as I knew, was the only source of warmth in the room. Carol turned her gaze to me, but was yet to utter a single word. I couldn't take issue with that, as neither had I.
I stepped around the couch, and stopped a couple of feet away. We were lit only by the flames from the fire, as I had allowed it to get dark outside, and hadn't been arsed to turn on the light, still wasn't. Even in the flickering light from the fire, and despite the flawless make-up, there was no denying she was attractive.
She had dressed in a pale, well fitted blouse, a dark, just above the knee, pencil skirt that cinched to her waist, black stockings, and four inch heels. All very smart, but then, when you have money, smart is just everyday. Had she been wearing jeans, a thick jumper, and stout boots, all of which made more sense in weather like this, I'd have been more impressed.
Carol drew a deep breath. I couldn't fail but to notice the swell it caused beneath the expensive silk of her blouse, and spoke of what it concealed. A hand raised from her side, and offered the envelope it held. She presented it flat, so as to display her perfectly manicured fingers, tipped with blood red nails, who's mirror finish caught the flicker of the firelight.
Despite my pause in taking the envelope, she held the pose until I did. I took an even longer pause to examine her expression for some sort of motive behind her visit, and found none, beyond a hint of nervousness in her eyes. Maybe the card itself would furnish an answer? If not, then I guessed we were done.
With one eye on Carol, I slid my thumb under the flap and tore open the envelope. As I drew the everyday card from its paper confines, she remained expressionless. On the front, it said, 'Happy Birthday', and had a random smattering of cartoon fireworks and streamers, on a white, semi gloss background. It couldn't have been more ordinary and indistinct, so if she was expecting me to be pleased, or grateful in any way, she was mistaken. And yet she remained, statuesque and blank.
I flipped the card open, and folded it back on itself to more easily read the inside. It was one of those, 'Blank for your own words', affairs, that I never send, because it meant making an effort to write something personal and witty. Not that she'd followed through on that point, her exquisite script just said, 'Happy Birthday, Jake'. There was no solitary 'X', that most would consider an obligatory norm, nor did it bare her name.
Puzzled, I closed the card, looked it over, then reopened it. Carol had made this card the focus of her visit, therefore, it must have greater significance than I had yet established. It was then that I noticed, in the top left corner of what was the inside of the front cover, a folded down post note. It's pale yellowness having failed to stand out against the white of the card, due to the yellow flames from the fire being the only illumination in the room.
I lifted the edge of the note, which revealed more words in the same hand. The writing was smaller, so I tilted the card to catch more of the firelight. The flicker from the flames made the letters dance, and I had to read it more than once, before what it said became clear.
'I have a gift, that I hope you will accept, but only once you've destroyed this note.'
I peeled the note from the card, and read it again. Still none the wiser, but aware of what it demanded, I scrunched it up between my fingers, then flicked it into the flames. There followed a flare up that brightened the room for a moment, and I swear a small smile formed on Carol's lips.
As the light dimmed back down, Carol made her move. The hand raised itself again, this time to take back the card. She turned to face the fire, and placed the card on the mantle, where it joined three others. One from my parents, another from my sister, and the third, my work colleagues. I had placed them there more out of tradition than celebration. That, and the fact I was a tidy person who felt there was a place for everything, and everything should be in its place.
The distraction the cards created, led me to miss Carol stepping back, to sit in the middle of the sofa. I chose to return to the armchair I had occupied before her arrival. It was positioned to the side of the fire, but faced where she sat.