Where You Are

Birgitta's Birthday

Birgitta

There was an irritating and insistent buzzing that just wasn't stopping. It took me a second after waking up to realize it wasn't part of the dream I'd been having. I rolled over in bed and tried to block it out, still mostly asleep. Then I sat up with a start when I realized it was the buzzer for my apartment.

I reached for my phone. I was working today, and my five AM alarm hadn't gone off yet, so I knew it was early. 4:58 AM.

I shuffled out of bed and turned on the light, searching frantically for my flannel robe. I found it under a pile of dirty clothes and pulled it on, still half asleep. The intercom for my apartment had never worked for as long as I'd lived there, I always had to go down myself to see who was there. I padded out of my apartment in my bare feet, down the stairs, blinking stupidly in the bright, fluorescent lighting, and to the front door.

There was a man I didn't recognize outside the main glass door. He noticed me and held up a large paper bag. Perplexed, and now a little more awake, I approached the door and opened it.

'Birgitta Petersen?' The man asked.

'Uh... yeah, that's me,' I answered, my voice scratchy from sleep.

'Here's your order,' he thrust the bag at me along with a paper cup with a warm drink.

'I didn't order anything,' I told him, trying to give him back the bag, but he had pulled out his phone and started tapping on it. 

Whatever was in the bag smelled absolutely mouth-watering. I could smell eggs, meat and grease. It instantly brought me back to the first morning Jesse had made me breakfast back in Halifax. Part of me didn't want to argue with the delivery driver and just take the bag and run with it.

'Says here it was ordered by someone called Jesse Sterling,' the man looked back up at me. 'Do you know him?'

'Yes,' I said, a foolish smile spreading across my face.

'Great, have a nice day,' he nodded to me and then walked away.

Dumbly, I clutched the bag and walked mechanically back up the stairs.

Today was my twenty-eighth birthday. And, so far, was off to a better start than any other birthday I could remember.

The alarm on my phone was going off when I returned to my apartment. Time to officially start my day and get ready to go to work.

But first, I felt it would be a shame not to enjoy my breakfast while it was still hot.

I was working all day and Jesse would be in the air already. He was flying to New York and then back to London. As I usually did, I opened my flight tracker app to see where exactly he was and finally found his flight just over Plymouth. He had only left twenty minutes ago and still had seven and a half hours to JFK.

I unpacked the scrambled eggs, sausage and toast and took a picture to send to him anyway. He would see it when he turned his phone back on.

However, there was already a message from him waiting for me. I had missed it in my foggy state earlier.

Jesse: Happy birthday!!
Jesse: I love you! Have a good morning, I'll ring you when I land!

The pit of my stomach felt warm and tingly and I lingered over breakfast for a bit longer than I probably should have. This kind of breakfast just reminded me of Jesse and how we decided we would keep making big breakfasts for each other when we visited as a treat.

Forty-five minutes later, I was showered, dressed and much more awake than I normally was this time of morning. My belly felt full and amazing, I couldn't believe Jesse had even thought to order me breakfast. It was definitely an improvement over the cold cereal or microwave oatmeal I would have normally eaten.