Lou pondered that, both disappointed by the lack of praise and intrigued by his father’s thinking at the same time.

“But you always told me to work hard,” Lou said suddenly, feeling an anger he had never known was there. “You always taught us not to rest on our laurels for a second, if I recall the phrase exactly.” He felt tense.

“I didn’t want you all to be lazy, by any means,” his dad responded, and he turned to look Lou in the eye. “In any aspect of your life, not just in your work. Any tightrope walker can walk in a straight line and hold a cane at the same time. It’s the balancing on the rope at those dizzying heights that they have to practice,” he said simply.

A staff member carrying a chair in her hand came up and broke the quiet tension. “Excuse me, who is this for?” She looked around at the family. “My boss told me that someone in this party asked for a chair.”

“Em, yes, I did,” Lou laughed bitterly. “But I asked for chairs. Plural. For all the guests.”

“Oh, well, we don’t have that amount of chairs on the premises,” she apologized. “So who would like this chair?”

“Your mother,” Lou’s father said quickly, turning to the others, not wanting any fuss. “Let your mother sit down.”

“No, I’m fine, Fred,” Lou’s mother objected. “It’s your birthday; you have the chair.”

Lou closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had paid twelve thousand euro for his family to fight over the use of a chair.

“Also, the DJ said that the only traditional music he has is the Irish National Anthem. Would you like him to play it?”

“What?” Lou snapped.

“It’s what he plays at the end of the night, but he has no other Irish songs with him,” she apologized. “Shall I tell him to play it for you all now?”

“No!” Lou snapped. “That’s ludicrous. Tell him no.”

“Can you please give him this?” Marcia interjected politely, reaching into a cardboard box she had underneath the table. From it, party hats, streamers, and banners overflowed. She handed the woman a collection of CDs. Their father’s favorite songs. She looked up at Lou briefly while handing them over. “For when you fucked up,” she said, then looked away.

It was a short comment, delivered quietly, but it hit him harder than everything else she’d said to him that evening. He’d thought he was the organized one, the one who knew how to throw a party, the one who knew to call in favors and throw the biggest bash. But while he was busy thinking he was all that, his family was busy with Plan B, in preparation for his failures. All in a cardboard box.

Suddenly the room cheered as Quentin stepped out of the elevator along with Gabe—whom Lou hadn’t known was invited—each with a pile of chairs stacked up in their arms.

“There are more on the way!” Quentin announced to the crowd, and suddenly the atmosphere picked up as everyone looked to one another with relief.

“Lou!” Gabe’s face lit up when he saw him. “I’m so glad you came.” He laid the chairs out for a few elderly people nearby and approached Lou, hand held out, leaving Lou confused as to whose party it was. Gabe leaned in close to Lou’s ear. “Did you double up?”

“What? No.” Lou shook him off, annoyed.

“Oh,” Gabe said with surprise. “The last I saw of you, you and Alison were having a meeting in your office. I didn’t realize you left the office party.”

“Yes, of course I did. Why do you have to assume the worst, that I had to take one of those pills to show up at my own father’s party?” Lou feigned insult.

Gabe merely smiled. “Hey, it’s funny how life works, isn’t it?” Then he nudged Lou.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the way one minute you can be up here, and then the next minute all the way down there?” On Lou’s puzzled look, Gabe continued, “I just mean that when we met last week, I was down there, looking up and dreaming about being here. And now look at me. It’s funny how it all switches around. I’m up in the penthouse; Mr. Patterson gave me a new job—”

“He what?”

“Yeah, he gave me a job.” Gabe grinned and winked. “A promotion.”

Before Lou had the opportunity to respond, a waitress approached them with a tray.

“Would anybody like some food?” She smiled.

“Oh, no, thank you, I’ll wait for the shepherd’s pie.” Lou’s mother smiled at her.

“This is the shepherd’s pie.” The woman pointed to a mini blob of potato sitting in a minuscule cupcake holder.

There was a moment’s silence, and Lou’s heart almost ripped through his skin from its hectic beating.

“Is there more food coming later?” Marcia asked.

“Apart from the cake? No”—she shook her head—“this is it for the evening. Trays of hors d’oeuvres.” She smiled again as though not picking up on the hostility that was currently swirling around her.

“Oh,” Lou’s father said, trying to sound upbeat. “Then you can just leave the tray here.”

“The whole tray?” She looked dubious.

“Yes, we’ve a hungry family here,” Lou’s father said, taking the tray from her hands and placing it on the tall table so that everybody had to stand up from their chairs in order to reach.

“Oh, okay.” She watched it being placed down and slowly backed away, trayless.

“You mentioned a cake?” Marcia asked, her voice high-pitched and screechy.

“Yes.”

“Let me see it, please,” she said, casting a look of terror at Lou. “What color is it? What’s on it? Does it have raisins? Daddy hates raisins.” They could hear her questioning the waitress as she headed to the kitchen, her cardboard box of damage-limitation items in hand.

“So, who invited you, Gabe?” Lou felt anxious, not wanting to discuss Gabe’s promotion any longer.

“Ruth did,” Gabe said, reaching for a mini shepherd’s pie.

“Oh, she did, did she? I don’t think so.” Lou laughed.

“Why wouldn’t you think so?” Gabe shrugged. “She invited me the night I had dinner and stayed over at your house.”

“Why do you say it like that? Don’t say it like that,” Lou said childishly, squaring his shoulders at him. “You weren’t invited to dinner in my house. You dropped me home and ate leftovers.”

Gabe looked at him curiously. “Okay.”

“Where is Ruth, anyway? I haven’t seen her all night.”

“Oh, we’ve been talking all evening on the balcony. I really like her,” Gabe responded, mashed potato dribbling down his chin and landing on his borrowed tie. Lou’s tie.

At that, Lou’s jaw clenched. “You really like her? You really like my wife? Well, that’s funny, Gabe, because I really like my wife, too. You and I have so fucking much in common, don’t we?”

“Lou,” Gabe said, smiling nervously, “you might want to keep your voice down just a little.”

Lou looked around and smiled at the attention they’d attracted and playfully wrapped his arm around Gabe’s shoulder to show all was good. When the eyes looked away, he turned to face Gabe and dropped the smile.

“You really want my life, don’t you, Gabe?”

Gabe seemed taken aback, but he didn’t have the opportunity to respond. Just then, the elevator doors opened and out fell Alfred, Alison, and a crowd from the office party. Despite the noise of Lou’s father’s favorite songs blaring through the speakers, they managed to announce themselves to the room loud and clear, dressed in their Santa suits and party hats, blowing their noisemakers at anyone who so much as looked their way.

Lou darted from his family and ran up to the elevator, blocking Alfred’s path. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re here to par-taay, my friend,” Alfred announced, swaying and blowing a party horn in his face.

“Alfred, you weren’t invited,” Lou said loudly.

“Alison invited me.” Alfred laughed. “And I think you know better than anyone how hard it is to turn down an invitation from Alison. But I don’t mind being sloppy seconds.” He laughed again, wavering drunkenly on the spot. Suddenly his sight line moved past Lou’s shoulder and his expression changed. “Ruth! How are you?”