I snort. “Yeah, you hate challenges.” It would take me a long time to list all the stupid things I know he and Noah did growing up.

Gray crosses his arms and leans against the banister of the staircase. “I got you inside. Get the candles.”

I roll my eyes at his bossiness but head into the formal dining room. There’s a massive hutch I’m betting holds my best chance of candles. Sure enough, the third drawer down contains an assortment of them. I grab two, identical to the ones currently on the cakes—then a third just in case—and walk back into the entryway.

“Got them.”

Gray nods, then heads out the front door. I don’t miss the glance at the third cubby I know used to hold his basketball equipment. I wonder when the last time he was back here was. Longer than me, I’d bet.

We’re both silent on the short walk back over to my parents’ house. Noah is waiting in the kitchen, right where we left him. He heaves an overly dramatic sigh of relief when I wave the extra candles around like sparklers.

I add one candle to the 3 cake and one to the 0 cake. “Okay, they’re ready.”

An off-key, hastily modified version of “Happy Birthday” begins as Noah and I step out onto the back deck. Noah holds the 3 while I carry the 0.

“Happy anniversary to you. Happy anniversary to you. Happy anniversary, dear Laurie and Adam. Happy anniversary to you!”

Noah and I set the two number cakes down in front of our beaming parents.

“Happy birthday, Laurie,” my father jokes. “You don’t look a day over twenty-nine.”

My mom giggles. Noah and I exchange a grossed-out look. I love my parents. I love that they’re still so in love. I just have no interest in witnessing it—I saw plenty growing up.

“You guys can blow the candles out now,” Noah suggests with a smirk as we all watch them make googly eyes at each other.

They finally do, so the cakes get distributed among the onlookers.

“Guess it’s present time then.” My father pulls a white envelope out of the pocket of his khakis. He hands it to my mom. Based on his I did good smile, it’s not a gift card.

She pulls a slip of paper out and scans it. “Italy?”

My dad smiles. “I booked the ten-day cruise we’ve been talking about for years. We leave on Monday—and before you start freaking out, I already settled everything with work. We’ve just got to rope one of the kids into watering the plants and cat-sitting.”

Not me, Noah mouths at me. He hates the white, fluffy Ragdoll.

I sigh, knowing who that leaves. “Fine.”

Sloane sighs dramatically next to me. “Oh no. Over a week without being woken up at four fifteen a.m. by ‘You Belong with Me’? However will I go on?”