Seb felt drunk and disoriented when Fin came back in with a lit birthday cake, and Via broke their staring game to laugh and clap her hands.

He had only had one glass of wine, but he felt like he was currently floating in a lazy ocean the temperature of a Jacuzzi.

He shook his head and joined in with everyone as they sang for her birthday. Matty perked up at the prospect of chocolate cake, and Mary brought out her present for Via.

“Ugh.” Seb groaned as Via carefully peeled back each layer of tape and wrapping paper. “You’re one of those people? Just rip it!”

“Sebastian, you have so much to learn about our Violetta,” Fin told him, a little smile on her face. “She’s gonna save that paper, and later, she’s gonna iron it.”

“Serafine!” Via admonished as a healthy blush bloomed on her cheeks. “There’s no reason to waste it! It’s reusable!”

Seb’s stupid, wasted heart thumped hard. An idiotic, clumsy ka-bump. He hoped his smile wasn’t as dopey as he thought it probably was. Look at him. So far gone, he was crushing on her wrapping paper habits.

“The coasters I wanted! Oh, Mary!” Via flung herself across the pillow fort and grabbed Mary up in a hug. They both laughed.

“I take that to mean that you like them.”

“Give them here, sister,” Fin requested in that slow, curling drawl. She inspected the coasters. “That’s nice frosting.”

“Frosting?” Tyler asked.

“Jetty, the woman who raised us,” Via explained, “used to say that a good, steady life was like cake. And that every once in a while, you deserved a little frosting. Just little things, little gifts to yourself. Things that don’t make sense to spend your money on unless you’ve paid your bills and have a job and all that. Frosting.”

“Via’s always liked her frosting extra shiny,” Fin said, a loving smile on her face.

Seb thought of the copper utensils and pearl-inlaid knives in her kitchen. He looked around at her decor, little bursts of prettiness all over. Colored glass that caught the light, a pillow with little mirrors embroidered around the edges. He thought of those little gold studs she wore, understated and still, somehow, princess-like.

Seb felt like he could have stayed in the soft, comfortable cave of the candlelit pillow fort with his friends for the next couple of weeks. He didn’t want the world to make him leave. But his lonely dog was whining at the edge of the fort, and his son’s head had lowered to his knee again. The sun had long since set, and it was a school night, after all.

Via was one of those people who cleaned up the kitchen as she cooked—Muriel’s wet dream, although he tried not to think about that for all sorts of reasons—so there wasn’t much cleanup to do, besides the pillow fort.

“Sorry to bail,” Seb said as he rose up with Matty in his arms. The kid was already spider-monkeying himself around his dad’s hips and neck, one hot cheek on his shoulder and cake breath wafting up into Seb’s face. Seb tightened his arms around his boy, filled with love for him.