She emerged from her room at one in the afternoon in the purple dress we had bought new for the occasion, one of the few times we had spent money on something that was not on sale. Her eyes went wide when she saw the decorations. She spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.
“It’s the best party ever,” she said.
“The party hasn’t started yet,” Marcus told her.
“I know, but it’s already the best.”
The first guests arrived just after two. Then more, until all six kindergarten friends were running through the living room with the specific chaotic energy of small children who have been told they are celebrating something. Lily was in the middle of all of it, laughing, directing games, presiding over the whole occasion with five-year-old authority. But every few minutes she glanced at the front door.
