Tidewoven Inc | The Reluctant Celebration

Micah didn’t want a birthday celebration. Didn’t ask for one. Didn’t mention the date. He figured if he didn’t say anything, the day would stay quiet, and he could treat it like any other slow evening.

No such luck.

Elise had gone full older-sister celebration mode. He came home from work to the smell of carne asada searing on a cast-iron skillet and the unmistakable sound of Nora and Lucy whisper-yelling in the hallway as they tried and failed to hang a paper banner that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICAH in letters they’d cut out of construction paper. The tape kept peeling off. Micah pretended not to see it while his stomach knotted in that familiar, overwhelmed way.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Mom approached and cupped his face in her hands. “Mijo, you’re home.” It wasn’t about the birthday. It was about him being here. Breathing. Solid. She kissed his cheek and went right back to stirring a pot of rice like she hadn’t just ambushed him with affection.

Pop was on the couch, teaching Bennett how to play dominoes. Bennett was losing badly and trying to act like he wasn’t. When he saw Micah, he raised both hands and said, “Happy birthday, man,” with that effortless grin that somehow made Micah both relax and tense up. Pop gave Micah a look that said, You deserve this. Deal with it.

Daniel came in from the garage carrying extra chairs. “I tried to stop them,” he gestured towards his wife and mother in the next room with his eyebrows. “But once either one of them gets an idea in their head, the only wise decision is to help or get out of the way.”

The girls appeared as Elise called everyone to eat. They dragged Micah to the dining table and made him sit in the “special chair,” which was only special because they’d taped a hand-drawn pirate ship onto the back of it. He muttered something about them being ridiculous. Lucy looked confused at his words but didn’t say anything, just kissed his cheek before darting away.

Then Tessa walked in. She wasn’t supposed to be off work yet, but there she was, holding a small bakery box like it was no big deal. Her hair was still pulled back from her field inspection, her work boots slightly muddy, but she smiled at him like she hadn’t been climbing through embankment infrastructure for eight hours straight. “Someone told me you don’t like cake,” she said. “So I brought tres leches. Because you’re wrong.”

Micah choked on absolutely nothing. Elise smirked behind him. Bennett’s eyebrows tried to escape his face. Pop cleared his throat in a way that made Tessa suddenly fascinated with the silverware drawer as heat erupted across her cheeks.

Halfway through dinner, Micah’s phone buzzed. A message from Arlo.

Happy birthday. Don’t fire me for texting after hours.

Micah snorted. Elise immediately reached for his phone like she had a right to read his private correspondence. He kept it out of her reach only because Nora and Lucy were already giggling about Uncle Micah having a “secret admirer.”

Dinner was loud. Too loud for a guy who spent most of his adult life eating alone in his tiny studio apartment. But he wasn’t drowning. Not tonight. Tonight, he let himself sit in the noise. He let Mom put extra food on his plate. He let Daniel shoulder-bump him during grace. He let Pop squeeze the back of his neck on the way to refill his drink. He let Bennett pull him into a lopsided bro-hug. He let Tessa’s hand brush his wrist when she passed him the tortilla platter.

After Tessa’s dessert, which, as promised, was delicious and enough to make him change his mind, at least a little bit, about cake, when everyone had drifted into smaller conversations, Micah stepped out to the back porch. And inhaled the crisp air. Listened to the quiet.

Tessa followed a minute later. “You okay?” she asked.

Micah nodded. Not convincing, but honest enough. “I don’t really… do birthdays.”

“I kind of figured,” she said. “I knew when your sister invited me, I couldn’t miss it.”

He swallowed. Hard. “Having you here made it even better.”

Tessa leaned on the railing beside him, glancing through the window at the people inside. “They love you. All of them. You don’t have to earn it.”

That one hit bone. He looked away.

Tessa nudged him with her shoulder. “Happy birthday, Micah.”

He let out a breath that for once didn’t hurt. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Inside, someone dropped something. Probably Bennett. Elise yelled in mock dismay. Pop laughed. The girls shrieked. Mom said Dios mío in the same tone she used for every mess, big or small.

Micah let himself stand there next to Tessa and feel held by all of it. Just this once.

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