Page 46 of Under Pressure
Don
Don glanced around his bungalow as Sean finished replacing the armchair with the love seat by the piano—Wayne and Sandy would be here any moment for Sandy’s birthday linner, as Sandy called it. Don liked to eat no later than five, and Sandy and Wayne liked to eat much later in the night, so they’d compromised with a late lunch/early dinner. It’d been a few days since he’d invited Bluebell, and he was all nerves.
“What do you think?” Sean asked, wiping his brow before fluffing a pillow on the love seat, which now blocked half the piano.
Don stood in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips, staring at the new seating arrangement and frowned. “Nope. Move it back.”
Sean let out a long breath. “Okay, no. I got you.”
A knock sounded from the back door. “Come in!” Don barked.
“Don?” Polly stepped inside with Rosa close behind her. They scanned his bungalow, their eyes going wide as their gazes darted from one birthday decoration to the next.
Don had hung bubble garlands and twinkle lights from the ceiling across the open floor plan, there was a pink, white, and silver balloon arch by the front window, with more balloons scattered ankle-deep across the floor, and the table was draped in a white table cloth he’d covered in pink, sparkly confetti, had a bouquet of different pink flowers, more balloons but smaller than those on the floor, his carefully crafted strawberry shortcake, along with white chocolate and pink sprinkles drizzled popcorn, tacos, and a light-up number 30. Women didn’t like talking about their real ages—especially not once they crossed fifty, even less sixty.
And finally, he’d covered the piano in two-layered clothes, a bright pink and then pale pink one, and had placed his two gifts there, next to Amelia’s shoebox, that had been perfectly wrapped in pink paper with silver string by Samantha. Bless the girl. He’d also placed a plate of strawberry beignets on the piano. Sandy loved strawberry pastries. And Don couldn’t say he minded the scent of strawberries and cream that filled the bungalow.
Don waved them in as Sean huffed and puffed behind him as he moved the furniture.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Polly shook her head and pursed her red-painted lips.
Rosa’s eyes lit up. “Que maravillosa. This is better than aquinceañera.”
“Do you think?” Don asked.
“¡Si!”
“You don’t think I need more confetti?” Don scratched his head. How much was too much glitter?
Rosa clasped her hands in front of her. “No, it’sperfecto.”
“It’sloco,” Polly said. She’d given up whispering her thoughts in the last few days.
“Hey, ladies.” From his hunched-over position pushing the couch, Sean waved at the visitors.
“What are you doing?” Polly asked.
“Putting the loveseat back,” Sean said. He stood and let out a long breath before stepping forward.
“You’re all red in the face.” Rosa blinked.
Boy was a little sweaty to boot, but he looked nice in jeans, whole ones without holes in them like the ones Axel preferred, and a light blue Henley Don had told him to wear. Don recalled Bluebell liked the color on Sean. Though he worried the boy wasn’t getting enough exercise.
Don waved a hand through the air. “He’s been eating too many pastries, put on a few pounds.” Truth be told, it was part of the reason why Don had him moving furniture.
Sean rested a hand on his stomach. “Hey.” He sounded dejected. A little stomach pudge could do that to a man. He’d have him go jogging with him and the retirees in the morning all next week. That’d fix him up.
Moving closer to Polly and Rosa, Don lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be heard over the sound of Sean shuffling through a thousand balloons. “Bluebell’s coming.” A balloon popped, and Don looked over his shoulder.
Sean was still completely oblivious as he shouldered the furniture around.
“We know, that’s why we’re here,” Polly said, her eyebrows lowering into a firm glare. “We don’t break up engaged people.”
Rosa glanced up at her with big, round eyes. “Unless he’shorrible.”
Don wanted to hug the pocket-sized woman.
A balloon popped making Rosa, Polly, and Sean jump.
