The bread knife slipped, cutting my thumb cleanly red before I even felt the sting of the steel. I didn’t look up because Damon was already folding the morning paper, and any sudden movement in the kitchen always caught his eye.
I pressed a paper towel to the wound and went back to spreading mustard on his rye bread.
“The butter is starting to smell like onions,” Damon said, straightening his collar as he stood by the refrigerator.
“I kept it a secret,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Well, check the seal,” he said, grabbing the lunchbox from the counter. “By the way, I saw the calendar on the fridge. Fifty is a big number, Elena. You can skip the cake from the bakery this year.”
He laughed, that quick, barking sound he used when he wanted to say something sharp without being rude. I smoothed my hands inside my apron and smiled back, because it was easier than explaining that fifty didn’t sound like a joke at all.
He put the lunch box down again, tapping the metal lid twice with his fingers.
“We don’t have to make a big deal out of it,” he said, looking around the counter for his keys. “At our age, silence is better.” 
Read the whole story .
Before I picked up the phone, the landline phone on the wall rang twice and the cable was stretched across the contact plate.
“Mom, don’t say no,” Lily said, her voice coming through the phone so quickly it blended with my greeting. “We’re booking the Golden Lantern for the twelfth at seven. It’s already booked.”
“It’s too expensive, Lily,” I whispered, looking toward the hallway where Damon was putting on his shoes.
“Jake is helping with the payments, and Noah is home from school,” she said. I could hear the soft, familiar clicking of her silver rings on the other end of the phone. “You only turn fifty once. Wear something beautiful.”
Damon stopped at the door, his gaze lingering on my hands as I held the phone.
“Who is this?” he asked.
