« That’s been my whole personality for thirteen years, » I replied, laughing.
« Where are the birthday boys? »
« Upstairs. Getting ready. They’ve been whispering all morning about something. »
« You look exhausted and beautiful at the same time. »
Soon, the house was full of warm voices and the smell of garlic bread.
Mason wore a navy blazer, and Noah kept tugging at his collar.
« Stop fidgeting, » I told him, smoothing the fabric across his shoulders.
« Aunt, please, » Noah said, stepping back. « I’m eighteen now. You don’t have to fuss. »
Something in his voice felt off, but I pushed the feeling aside.
New adults always sounded a little stiff trying out their independence.
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