“No,” Ethan said. “I have no idea what Olivia has been dealing with. That is the problem.”
Eleanor looked at Olivia.
“So this is what you wanted? To turn my son against me?”
Olivia’s exhaustion hardened into something clearer.
“I wanted to wash a bottle without being told I did not belong here.”
Eleanor went silent.
Ethan walked to the front hall and opened the door.
“Mom. We will talk later. Not tonight.”
For several seconds, Eleanor did not move.
Then she picked up her handbag and left.
The door closed.
The house became quiet enough to hear the refrigerator motor.
Ethan stayed in the hallway with Lily in his arms.
Olivia remained by the sink.
Neither of them knew what to do with the silence once the person filling it with pressure was gone.
Then Noah appeared from the living room.
“Is Grandma mad?”
Ethan crouched again.
“Grandma and Dad had a disagreement. You did not cause it. Mom did not cause it.”
Noah nodded slowly.
“Can we have cake?”
Olivia laughed and cried at the same time.
Ethan looked toward the untouched birthday cake.
“Yes,” he said. “We are absolutely having cake.”
The celebration that followed was imperfect.
Ethan ordered pizza because nobody had energy to cook. He washed enough dishes to clear one side of the sink while wearing Lily against his chest in the carrier Olivia had been using. Noah stuck three decorations to the wrong wall and insisted they looked better there.
The banner sagged in the middle.
The cake frosting had cracked near one corner.
Olivia sat down for the first time in hours.
Ethan placed a plate in front of her.
