Waking Up Call

A thin sliver of light cut through a small gap in the curtains, and slowly worked it's way up the bed. The rooms two occupants lay fast asleep, wrapped cosily in a duvet, with a low rumbling snore coming out of the covers on the side nearest the door. An arm - undeniably male given the light covering of hair - struck out into no-mans-land, hanging over the end of the bed and allowing a hand to barely brush the floor.

Next to him, a second figure rolled over, and momentarily tried to waft away the beam of light with a futile, sleepy gesture. Nearest the window in the otherwise dark room, the second occupant was currently the sole focus of the early morning sun. As the light finally reached the top of the bed, a woman's face flinched at the unwelcome intrusion.

With a groan, the woman was slowly and unwillingly dragged from whatever dreams she'd been enjoying, and rudely back into the real world. A real world that tasted like a hangover, and was apparently illuminated by an offensively bright light.

"Mitchell." she mumbled, sleepily. "Mitchell..."

There was no response from her partner though, except for another snore in the never-ending symphony that had peppered the night.

After a few minutes of futilely battling the oncoming morning, a burst of red hair grudgingly untangled itself from the duvet. With a final groan, the woman hauled herself out of bed, and breathed in deeply. She was tall and relatively thin, but with a nice round ass that many a man had appreciated from afar.

Staring accusingly at the gap in the curtains, she slowly got to her feet and made her way slowly out of the room. She needed some water before she fixed the curtains and would crawl back under the covers.

Reaching the kitchen, she grabbed a cup and yawned as she turned on the tap. Away from the bedroom, away from the snoring, the house was perfectly quiet. The light tinkling of the water hitting the bottom of the glass, combined with the after-effects of far too much wine having left the bottom of her glass the night before, sounded far too loud for a Saturday morning.

However, if the sound of the water was enough to make her regret her choice of drinks last night, the sudden piercing shriek of the phone was enough to make her regret her life.

Staggering over to the phone, Tanya fumbled at the handheld before finally locating the answer button.

"H... hello?" Tanya said, blearily.

"Hi, is Mitchell there?" Tanya's mind was kicked out of neutral by the sound of her boyfriend's mother. Shaking her head, and squinting at a nearby clock, Sara tried to wake herself up so as not to betray the fact that she was still more than slightly hungover.

"Umm... no... no, Mitchell's still in bed." What the hell was she ringing at this hour for? Of course, the woman lived on the other side of the country, and was prone to forgetting that timezones were a thing that actually existed in other people's lives.

"Oh, okay..." the woman sounded disappointed, and Tanya was lost for words for a moment.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Tanya finally broke and volunteered "Shall I... get him to call you back?"

The strain of the conversation was already beginning to show in her voice. This was most certainly not fair, she reflected, in between the headache and her vague attempts at focussing on this conversation. On the one hand, she was conscious of trying to be on her boyfriend's mother's good side. On the other hand, this was cutting into some valuable and absolutely necessary Saturday morning sleeping time.

"Oh, oh no. It's fine." Mitchell's mother said, with an audible sniff, "I'll call back later. I'm sure the two of you have plenty planned for today, and I can wish him a happy birthday later on."

"Fine. fine. I'll tell him you called." Tanya replied, and hurriedly finished this odd little conversation so she could hang up and get back to nursing her hang over.

As she stumbled back to the bedroom, glass of water protectively clutched to her chest, part of Tanya's mind began to replay the conversation in her mind. There was something she'd missed. Something that she sensed was somehow important.

What had she said? That she'd call back later to wish him a happy birthday.

Tanya stopped, mid-corridor, and her eyes opened wide.

Mitchell's mother would wish him a happy birthday...

"Oh shit." Tanya said, quietly. It was Saturday, June 20th. It was Mitchell's birthday.