Chapter 20

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 November sixteenth. The dreaded day that comes around each year.

Her birthday.

In fact, it should be one of her favorite days, right? Right? Wrong . Kimbra was never one for celebrations. Unnecessary. Yes, birthday parties were a celebration of one's life, accomplishments, and so forth. But it was unnecessary. Nothing about her had ever been worth celebrating. She didn't see much point in such celebrations, particularly if they were about herself. And it only reminded her that she was getting older. Closer to reaching the age to where Huntington's symptoms usually appear.

She just hated being reminded of it.

Dr. Ainsley asked her to come to EcoTech tonight. He lied, saying it was for work and to dress nice. She knew what he really meant.

'We're throwing you a birthday party and if you don't come, you'll never hear the end of it.'

Should she even go?

...

No. No, she shouldn't.

Kimbra thought about cancelling. It's her birthday, after all. If she wanted to stay home in her pajamas, she should be able to. But that wouldn't be very fair to her boss and coworkers.

She could tough it out, for one night. It would be her final birthday in St. Canard after all.

***

There's no way I'm going to this party sober. I need at least two beers and a shot to make it through the night. Aw, man, that just makes me sound like I have a problem. I don't have a problem, well...I have plenty of problems, but not a drinking problem.

I swear I'm not an alcoholic.

It all felt like a blur to her today. The calls from her family back home. All the birthday messages. The cards. She hated the attention. She hated her birthday. The worst time of the year. She wanted to pretend it was just any other day. Yet, the world had other plans for her.

You could at least show some enthusiasm.

Kimbra put on a fake smile as she stood in front of the EcoTech doors. She knew was soon as she stepped in, balloons would fall from the ceiling. Her colleagues would jump out and shout happy birthday. All the works. She'd have to talk to dozens of people. Thank each one over and over for coming to a party she didn't even want. Make small talk and be reminded she was one year older.

One year closer to possibly being diagnosed with Huntington's.

Observing people was much easier than interacting with them, after all. Kimbra looked down at herself. The dark blue low cut gown outlined her delicate frame. The black high heels hurt her feet and she felt overdressed. She worried about possibly bringing even more attention to herself.

With a deep breath, Kimbra walked through those double glass doors.

On the surface, it probably came off that Kimbra enjoyed the attention. She didn't. Being back in her apartment wrapped in a quilt of her mother's while eating chips and watching some old sitcom sounded much more pleasant of a birthday.

She shouldn't have to keep up appearances or paint on a smile. She doesn't owe anyone a damn thing. But she does it anyway because it was easier that way. Except it isn't. Not for her. She did it, so it would be easier for others. The ones that cared about her. That loved her.

She only did it for them.

The sound of party poppers and cheers of 'happy birthday Kimbra' greeted her. Tacky streamers and balloons hung on the walls. A large banner with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY hung between the two lobby staircases. Two white foldable tables rested against the far-right wall, filled with refreshments. Dozens of her colleagues and coworkers filled the lobby. Their faces brandished with smiles and joy.

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