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“Correct.”

“What happened to living in the moment?”

“I’ll live in it after I post it.”

The cake was dark chocolate with raspberry filling, rich enough to stop every complicated thought in my head.

“Worth the emotional ambush?” Claire asked.

“Mostly.”

“I told them not to bring the sparkler.”

“There was going to be a sparkler?”

“The waiter suggested it.”

“I’m changing my will.”

Ben lifted his fork, grinning. “Leave me the Pac-Man machine.”

“Done.”

Paul smiled. “I’ll call the attorney Monday.”

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, it was easy.

Claire wore my mother’s diamond and gold drop earrings, which she’d asked if she could have so casually over coffee that I’d gone into the pantry afterward and cried.

Ben had flown in from New York and gotten his hair cut, although he insisted the haircut had nothing to do with seeing us.

Paul had ordered the wine I liked even though he preferred bourbon and believed red wine stained the teeth.

I looked around the table at the good life I had, and that was what made the wanting so difficult.

When the check arrived, Paul reached for it before Claire could. She protested because she’d planned the dinner, while my son patted his pockets and produced a MetroCard and a receipt from a falafel restaurant.

“I contributed my presence.”

“Your presence is appreciated,” I smiled at him.

Outside, Shaker Square glowed beneath the streetlamps, the brick storefronts softened by darkness. Cars rolled up to the valet stand amid exhaust and slamming doors.

Ben hugged me beside the podium. He hugged like Paul, careful never to show too much emotion, but at the last second he held on tighter. One beat longer than necessary.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” he said into my hair. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know. Come for Sunday dinner.”

“I’ll try.”

“You’re here in Cleveland.”

“I still have plans.” He shook his head, already looking at his phone.

“Plans? You’ve only been here six hours.”

“A rich social life doesn’t take holidays.”