Linda’s pride at seeing Violet’s home made birthday cake come together, and her horror when one side of it started to break away, a big, chocolate fissure opening up along one side of the cake (She managed to glue it back together with more frosting). The cake looked lovely, and it tasted absurdly good.
As the party started, I held Violet’s hands so she could walk across the floor. A moment later, she pulled one of her hands out of mine, and I realized she was practically walking by herself; I was holding on to just one of her hands.
Our families gathered around the kitchen table in my brother’s house, everyone singing to Violet. Linda said it best afterward, “…one of the happiest moments of my life.”
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