There’s always something to do in LA. Auditions. Interviews. Publicity lunches with pretty, forgettable actresses to generate buzz about upcoming projects. That’s been my life since I moved out there. In my profession, the only thing that changes is the scenery. I’ve had auditions in Italy. Interviews in Switzerland. Publicity lunches in Beijing.

The one thing I couldn’t do in any of those places?

Attend my niece’s birthday party.

Paige turns eight years old today, and in a twist that’s as shocking to me as anyone else, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than the patio at Coach House. Emily’s decorated with streamers and balloons outside the kitchen. The cake—which is beautiful and painstaking, heartbreakingly simple, lovely—waits inside on the kitchen island. Beau, Jane, Emily, and I gather around the patio table to take too many pictures of Paige opening her gifts. She gets a brand-new Monopoly shirt and hoodie. A zip line that goes outside between the trees. A new set of paint for her rocks. Paige grins at each one like it’s everything she ever wanted.

“Wow,” Jane says, a mirror grin on her face. “Are you going to set up a rock shop?”

“Sell my rocks?” Paige says. “Never!” She purses her lips and looks back down at the paint. “Well, maybe I would.”

“Save up your money and you could buy a real hotel,” says Beau. He rubs Jane’s upper back with gentle strokes, almost like he doesn’t know he’s doing it. I bet he does. I bet he can’t stand not to be touching her.

Sitting around the table like this with them feels important. It feels like a big deal.

Birthdays were a big deal at our house when I was growing up. I looked forward to them like I looked forward to summer vacation and weekends. Back then, it was easy. Everybody brought a dish to pass and filled the tables outside to overflowing. We filled up hundreds of water balloons and the twenty or so kids who were always in attendance would spend hours in battle.

This—the four of us and Paige—is quieter, but Emily’s put just as much preparation into it. She made appetizer trays and grilled burgers and hot dogs. Beau and Jane brought even more balloons—a bunch of eight of them, plus a big Happy Birthday balloon floating in the center. It’s filled with just as much love as any of the parties I went to as a kid. It’s more poignant, somehow. It squeezes at my heart to watch it. To be here.

“One minute,” Emily says. She steps into the house. Every muscle in my body wants to follow her.

Instead, I turn to Paige. “Show me that zip line again. Should we set it up a little later?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes! Not later. Now.”

“Well, I don’t—”