I don’t know. In my head, Callie will always be the tiny monster who would run around the house wearing pants as a headpiece.

Now that I look at them, though, I’m happy Wren was there to tell me not to get the party hats out. Callie would probably have worn it just to be nice, but I’m sure it would’ve been embarrassing for her. Preteens can be ruthless.

“Why don’t we let the birthday girl choose her music?” Wren suggests, plucking my phone from my hands and handing it to my sister. When she comes back to me, she whispers, “You know, just to make sure you don’t make them listen to old people music.”

I scoff. “My music tastes are great, thank you very much.”

With a lift of her brows, she says, “I’ve been on long drives with you a couple of times. It’s too late to convince me.”

I throw my head back with a chuckle. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, instead going to help one of the girls who can’t open a can of soda.

“There,” Callie says as she hands me my phone back, a Latino singer I’ve never heard before filling the room. Once everyone’s settled, Wren and I both grab a slice of pizza and eat it in the kitchen, giving the girls a sense of independence.

Right before we’re done with our food, the front door opens, and in comes my mother.

“¡Mamá!” Callie shouts, getting on her feet. After she looks around her, she hides a little of her excitement by sitting back down, but there’s no mistaking the happiness in her expression.

Ma goes to her and hugs her tight while saying, “Oh, mi corazón. No podía faltar a tu cumpleaños.” Oh, my heart. I couldn’t miss your birthday.

My father is still in the hospital, although he should be able to get out tomorrow, according to his doctor. After all the tests they ran, they concluded that his seizure really was due to the fever, and he hasn’t had another since. It was good news, but it still pissed me off. For some reason, he didn’t let us know how bad he was feeling. I don’t know if it’s because he physically couldn’t tell us or because he didn’t want us to worry, but either way, I’ll need to have a talk with my parents to figure out a way for this not to happen ever again.

But that’s a problem for another day.

Callie squeezes our mother for a long time before pulling away. “You want to see how Aaron and Wren set up the living room for my pajama party? Everyone loves it.”