18 PENELOPE“Happy birthday, dear Connor. Happy birthday to youuu!”
The flickering firelight of twenty-nine candles dances across my brother’s cheeks as our very off-key singing echoes through his kitchen, then fades into a wild round of applause.
“Make a wish, old man!” Hayes shouts, lifting his beer before tipping back whatever’s left in the bottle. “You’re not getting any younger!”
“But I’m getting hungrier,” Caleb shouts. “And I’m gonna eat that cake with my bare hands if you don’t hurry up, swear to God!”
Laughter ripples through the group, coming from everyone but the birthday boy himself, who is busy staring into the flames.
“Hold on,” he grumbles, furrowing his brow in concentration. “I’m trying to think of a good one.”
A jam-packed kitchen and a chocolate cake isn’t at all wh
