Chapter One

August 14, 2004. Just another day. Unless you count that kids are off of school. This day, except for Myrtle Landreth, previously Mrs. McGable, is a birthday. The strange thing about Myrtle's birth was that in her hometown, she was the only child born that day - she was so special she even got in the local paper. Most days now, this single mother feels like that was the only day she was ever special.

"Mommy, Mommy," whispered Lewis to his mother as he was jumping on her bed. He was wearing footy pajamas with dirt from the kitchen's tile floor on them, getting Myrtle's bed dirty, something she appalled more than just about everything else.

"Lou, don't wake Mommy, I'm like the Daddy game," said Myrtle turning over in bed in a 'reverse' fetal position with her butt in the air and her face buried deep within her toile pillow and her body devoured by her perfectly pressed and washed white linens and duvet cover.

"But Mommy, it's your birfday!" screamed Lewis loud enough to make Myrtle jump to her feet and out of bed, straightening up her appearance and smoothing out the wrinkles in her old worn green flannel pajama pants.

"It is my birthday, isn't it?" she said lowering her face to meet Lewis' and say in a very sweet, motherly voice, "guess how old Mommy is."

"Thirty!" screamed Lewis, while accidentally spitting in his mother's face and make her close her eyes.

"I'm twenty-eight, sweetie," she said standing back at full height. "Now, why don't you go downstairs into the kitchen and I can make some potato pancakes Aunt Meredith makes?"

"Oh boy," began Lewis sprinting down the steps, but adding before he got out of Myrtle's range of hearing, "you look thirty!"

Myrtle closed her eyes, took a deep breath in and headed downstairs in the kitchen, finding Lewis with the phone to his ear.

"I didn't hear the phone ring," said Myrtle.

"It didnt, I'm calling Daddy."

"Why are you calling Daddy?"

"Daddy told me to make sure and call him on your birthday so that he could say happy birthday."

"Okay," said Myrtle, heading towards her neatly organized cabinets with every box and can in alphabetical order.

She had just pulled the potatoes out, when she realized they had become rotten. With a look of disgust on her face, she threw them into the trash.

"Lou, I can't make the - " she began but Lewis held up his index finger to silence her, as his father's significant other answered the phone.

"Hi Guy! Can I talk to Daddy?"

After there was a brief pause in which Guy gave the phone away, so he could talk to his son from his previous marriage.

"Good morning, Daddy! Mommy's up, she's thirty!"

Before Myrtle had a chance to correct Lewis again, he shoved the phone into her hand.

"Hello? Clay are you there?" asked Myrtle, wondering if Lewis was playing the phone joke on her again.

"Yeah, I'm here," answered Clayton on the other line. "How does it feel to finally reach the big three-zero?"

"I'm twenty-eight, thank you. I've still got a while to go before I'm as old as you," she said jokingly.

"Ouch," he laughed. "How are things? We just got back from vacation, sorry I couldn't see Lewis more."

"Oh, he's fine, nothing to worry about. Did you and Guy have fun?"

Clayton laughed while saying, "Don't you already know about how we have fun?"

"Yes, how silly of me. I should've guessed you would do something crazy over in Fiji. How was the weather?"

"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. You should really go and take those vacation days of yours."

"No, I have too much work to do. I can always save them up and go on a really long vacation when I get sick of everything."

"Alright, and Myrtle?"

"What?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"Guy says happy birthday too."

"Tell him I said thank you for that and something else."

"What?"

"Getting you off my hands, you're so annoying," laughed Myrtle.

"Okay, that'll be my birthday present to you."

"Great, thanks."

"Myrtle, take a break, you work too much."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Myrtle waited until she heard the phone click before she hung it up, she hated hanging up first. For some reason, it made her feel guilty. She was never really first to do anything, especially in a relationship. When she and Clayton divorced, it took her some time to get over it, but now they were friends like they were before they even started dating. She even became friends with Guy, and it was really strange because they hit it off pretty quickly, considering that this was the man that in a way took her man away.

Actually, he never was hers because he only started their relationship because, as his name suggests, he had Southern parents that like most, weren't fond of homosexuals. They had been platonic friends for years, and then they started dating. Then they got married. Then they got divorced.

"Mommy?" said Lewis, trying to break his mother's trance as she had started to think after her conversation with Clayton.

"What is it sweetie?"

"What are you making for breakfast?"

"I don't know; we don't really have much that I can make that you actually like. What do you want?"

"Latkes like Aunt Meredith makes."

"I can't make latkes right now, honey."

Myrtle and Lewis were startled by a noise from outside their house. It was like what a dragon with indigestion sounds like, only louder. The jingling of keys and the turning of a doorknob followed that. The light tapping of stiletto heels on the living rooms floor let the two of them know exactly who it was - Meredith.

"Dun, dun, dun!" Meredith said triumphantly holding up a Tupperware container. "My latkes are here to save breakfast from Myrtle's oatmeal once again!"

"Yey, Aunt Meredith!" screamed Lewis latching himself onto his mother's best friend; they weren't technically sisters, but they were close enough.

"Thank you, Meredith. What brings you here today, other than saving us from my terrible cooking?" asked Myrtle taking the Tupperware away from Meredith, placing it on the kitchen table.

"Come on, did you really think I wouldn't wish my best friend a happy thirtieth birthday?"

"I'm twenty-eight," said Myrtle frowning again, her minds biological clock beginning to tick faster than usual, trying to catch up with her appearance's extra two years.

"Sorry, I figured you were as old, or young, as me."

"Don't listen to Mommy, she's thirty," said Lewis, still clinging to Meredith, looking up at her face, with part of his view distorted by her chest.

"I'm twenty-eight Lou, I already told you," said Myrtle, beginning to be agitated. "Why don't you go into the living room and watch cartoons while I heat up your latkes, huh?"

"Yippee!" screamed Lewis, releasing Meredith and dashing into the living room, lunging for the remote and plopping on the couch. He put on his favorite cartoon and began to watch. "SpongeBob is so cool!"

Myrtle put the Tupperware into the microwave, set it for a minute, and began to talk with Meredith.

"Are you going to come to work today? Jerry is worrying about you."

"Who?" asked Meredith, never being that good with names.

"That intern you went into the supply room with," replied Myrtle.

"Oh, right, well I guess I have to, my vacation days are all spent."

"Okay, I'm glad. It'll be nice to have someone close to my age with me."

"Hey, watch it! I'm only two years older, and my birthday was two months ago!"

"Sorry, it's just that it seems that every kid that works there is barely out of high school. That's what I get for working for an Internet company."

"Hey, none of those little brats are nearly as good at PR as you," said Meredith, opening the microwave and getting out the Tupperware containing the latkes.

"Thanks," said Myrtle, opening a cabinet to get out a plate for Lewis. "But that doesn't say much when their idea of PR is getting a co-ed to wear a t-shirt with the company name on it to Mardi Gras when she gets on Girls Gone Wild."

"That worked out very well for me, thank you very much. It inspired Snoop Dogg to want to make a Wild Women of Mardi Gras tape."

"Sorry."

"It's alright. You're just testy because you're thirty."

"See Mommy, I told you," said Lewis taking away the latkes and the plate and returning to watch SpongeBob and Patrick face-off in the fry cook Olympics.

"Isn't today going to be lovely?" asked Myrtle of Meredith.

"I'm sure it will be Myrt."

"I hope so, Ditzy."