Claire almost smiled.
Ellie whispered, “Can we get pizza?”
“We can get all the pizza.”
“And another cake?”
Luke nodded.
“The biggest one in America.”
Claire finally smiled.
“Maybe not the biggest.”
Ellie thought carefully.
“A medium one.”
“Deal.”
At 5:30 that evening, Ellie sat on the kitchen counter wearing pajamas while Luke attempted to bake a cake from a box.
Claire could cook well.
Luke could not.
He had once burned pasta.
Not the sauce.
The pasta.
But Ellie insisted he make the replacement birthday cake.
He poured too much milk into the batter.
Claire quietly corrected it while he was not looking.
Ellie decorated the finished cake herself with purple frosting, gummy bears, marshmallows, chocolate chips, and something Claire was fairly certain had originally been intended as breakfast cereal.
It was objectively terrible.
Ellie loved it.
They put five new candles on top.
This time there were no guests.
No balloon arch.
No photographer.
No grandmother controlling where anyone stood.
Just three people around their small kitchen table.
Luke lit the candles.
Claire switched off the lights.
They sang badly.
Ellie closed her eyes.
She made another wish.
Then she hesitated before blowing.
Claire noticed.
“So nobody’s touching me?”
Luke’s face changed.
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Ellie blew out the candles.
Luke clapped.
Claire cheered.
Nothing happened.
Nobody grabbed her.
Nobody pushed her.
Nobody laughed at her fear.
Ellie waited another second.
Then smiled.
“That was better.”
Luke looked away.
Claire knew why.
He was trying not to cry.
Later, after Ellie went to bed, his phone rang.
Diane.
Luke stared at the screen.
Claire did not tell him whether to answer.
He eventually did.
“Hello.”
Claire could hear Diane’s voice from several feet away.
Not the words.
The tone.
Fast.
Defensive.
Luke walked toward the living room.
Claire stayed in the kitchen.
Within seconds his voice sharpened.
“No.”