Dad put on his nice-guy act. "Come on, come on. It's his first day back. Don't upset him."
Mom let out a sharp huff, then turned away and dangled a toy car in front of Lucius. She didn't say another word to me for the rest of the ride.
When we got home, a cake sat on the dining table, shaped like a race car. Around it were little jars and pouches of baby food.
The moment we sat down, Mom announced, "This cake was bought especially to welcome you home. Your little brother doesn't even get one!"
I laughed to myself. Lucius didn't get one because he was still a baby and couldn't eat cake.
And for a cake that was supposedly mine, it was awfully convenient that the design was a race car, Lucius's favorite thing in the world.
The candles were lit. I leaned forward to blow them out, and Mom's hand shot across the table to stop me.
"Your brother can't eat the cake, so at least let him blow out the candles. You'll get the whole thing afterward."
I sat back and didn't move. I watched her coax a one-year-old into blowing out candles.