Jake stopped tapping his spoon against the rim of his water glass and stood up to hug me. He held me tightly for a second, his hand pressing against my back, right where the silk of the dress met my skin.
“Happy birthday, Mom,” Jake said, pulling back to look at me with a quiet smile. “You really do look beautiful.”
Noah, the quietest of the three, simply nodded from his seat and cracked his knuckles, a habit he only had when he was deeply moved or nervous. He pulled out the empty chair beside him, gesturing for me to sit down.
I slid into the seat, the smooth fabric of the dress bunching slightly around my knees. The warmth of the dining room was a sharp contrast to the biting October air outside, but my skin still felt cold.
“We were worried you guys got lost,” Lily said, leaning over the candle in the center of the white tablecloth. “The traffic on Main Street looked terrible from the window.”
