(...)
So Brian turned 31 and we had a huge party, which was also a party to thank him for more than ten years of working together and a goodbye. We had a huge cake, champagne, a country band (in honor of his Kentucky roots, which he is going back to) and a whole lot of guests. I wasn't the only one to fly over from the States for this event. The management was there, halft the record company, some songwriters they had worked with, journalists turned friends, actual friends... The list goes on. It was quite big and I was very glad I had bought a nice Dolce&Gabbana dress so I didn't look out of place,because I hadn't known about the party's size. Brian enjoyed himself a lot. He danced and laughed and talked and even showed us all some square dance moves. And I had quite some fun myself since my mood is many shades brighter than it has been for a long time.
(...) At the end of the night Brian said: "This was fun, but I really can't wait to come home now." I knew everything was on the right track.
When we were all cuddled up in his hotel bed in the dark, he said:
"This was really the kind of closure I needed. I could go home tomorrow. I got to see all the important work people again, partied with them appropriate to our good working relationship, there's no hard feelings, it's really done."
"Nothing left you would have loved to do or see?" I inquired.
"I would have liked to meet the Dalai Lama, but that has nothing to do with my career. No, there's nothing I still want to do. I've seen enough of hotel rooms, VIP areas and security zones for a good long while. It's the perfect time to quit, really." He moved around a bit, but in the dark I couldn't really tell in which direction or why until he put a soft little something into my hand.
"What is that?" I asked quite confused.
"A mouse," he answered. I frowned, which he obviously didn't see, at the thought of a dead mouse in my hand.
"A toy mouse actually," Brian specified to my relief. "I thought we'd start slow and get a cat when I'm back. It needs a little taking care of, but generally cats are very independent. And when we're ready, we'll get a dog. And then we're prepped for a baby."
I laughed. I laughed a lot. Happily and with all my heart. He was so sweet and yet so funny. And after a while he started laughing, too. We had never bought a pet for two reasons: one, we were never home. And two, we never could agree on a cat or a dog. It is what happens when a cat person like me marries a dog person like Brian. But of course it is possible to have both, contrary to popular belief.
His gesture now could have been regarded as a slight bit of pressure on me to agree to have a child some time, but I didn't see it that way. He was trying to support me, show me I can take care of a living thing and let me grow into the responsibility slowly and through it become all I can be.
"I thought you might like that," Brian got out between two laughs.
"It's a great plan," I answered, "and I'm sure Dr Stevenson quite approves as well."
Brian ended his laughter with a sigh and pulled me into his arms.
"I'm glad you get along with him. You seemed a ton lighter when I picked you up at the airport," Brian stated and I smiled at the word play.
"I have ways to go yet," I warned, "but I feel a lot better already."
And so ended Brian's brithday.
