Work Text:
“Do you like it?” Father asks.
Vanessa tilts her head, questioning. They stand in fathers workshop at the end of the hall. She usually wasn't allowed in here, but Father had specifically requested her presence. Today is her ninth birthday. A big deal, Father tells her. He holds out a mask, and it's something that she has never seen before. It looks like one of Fathers characters, but not one that she recognizes.
“What is it?” she questions.
Father motions her forward, strapping the mask around her face and motioning for her to look in the mirror.
“I made her for you,” he tells her, “for your birthday.”
Vanessa looks in the mirror, but she doesn't see herself. Instead, she sees a white rabbit, with big ears and a wide grin. Father moves to stand behind her, brushing her hair behind her shoulders and then letting his hands rest there. She hates it when he does that.
“I named her Vanny.” father tells her “after you. But you can't tell anyone about her, this is our little secret. She's just for you.”
She pulls the mask off, rotating it in her hands to get a proper look.
“I love it.” she says, flatter than she means to, but it seems to make father happy. That's really all she's ever trying to do.
----------
Vanessa sat on the shore of a small lake that she had loved since she was a child. Her mother used to bring her here, and now she could share it with the new people she loved.
She watched as her brother surfaced right in front of Abby and sent a large splash into her face, just to disappear back into the water to evade her retaliation. Abby shrieked and took off through the water to try to reach him, but Michael was too fast. Vanessa laughed under her breath, despite herself.
Mike sat near her, cheering for Abby to “get him! get him!” and Vanessa smiled. She lifted her head to feel the warm summer breeze through her hair. It was one of the last weekends of summer. They had decided to get one last lake day in before school started back up and the autumn chill came in and everything became far, far too serious. Vanessa wanted to live in this limbo of carefree summer weekends, even though she was an adult with a job, for as long as possible.
She had a book open in front of her but she didn't think she'd actually read a single sentence in the multiple hours they'd been there. At least she hadn't yielded to Abby's pleas for her to get into the water yet.
“So, its your birthday coming up right?” Mike asked, nudging Vanessa with his shoulder. Vanessa didn't look over at him, locking her eyes onto where Michael was dramatically letting Abby push him under the water.
“Yeah, it's next Saturday," she said noncommittally, giving a little shrug.
“Do you want to do something for it?” Mike asked, “Not to brag, but Abby and I are getting pretty good at baking. We could make you a cake, do a little thing at our house?”
Vanessa let herself laugh at Mike's joke. She really appreciated the offer. She appreciated his brevity, him asking her when they were alone, the caution in his tone. She wished there was a way she could convey just how much she appreciated everything he does and also that she would let him celebrate her birthday when hell freezes over.
“That ok, Mike,” she said lightly, hoping she was doing a good job of seeming well adjusted and normal, "I've never really been one for birthdays.”
“Are you sure?” as thoughtful as he was, mike never knew when to let a topic drop, “it can just be the four of us? Or- I mean anybody you want, it's just- you’re important to us and we want to do something for you.”
“Well, we’re having dinner on Sunday like always, right?” she said, brushing him off again, “you can make me some cheesy pasta, it's my favorite.”
“But-”.
“Vanessa!” Abby yelled from the water, a giant grin across her face as Michael had escaped her grasp and was swimming away, “please get in here! We have to kill him!”
“I have to go help your sister drown my brother, but thank you for the offer Mike, really.” Vanessa said, standing up.
Mike's face fell a little bit, but he finally let it go. He straightened his expression and gave her an almost lighthearted smile, but she could tell he was disappointed.
“Yeah of course, Vanessa," he said, “it's whatever you want.”
She returned the small smile before turning to join Abby in her conquest for vengeance. She had a feeling that this wasn't the last she would hear about this. Right now though, she was content to soak up the summer air and cool water. She let Abby and Michael's laughter flood her brain. It was peaceful, if only it wasn't so fleeting.
----------
Her fathers big hands grasp her shoulders as a chorus of children screech a horrible rendition of the birthday song. She sits on his lap and tries to smile, a comically large cake with way too many candles perched on the table in front of her. All she has to do is make it through this and then she can sink back into her comfortable shadows.
She hated spectacle. She hated the spotlight. She hated her fathers hot breath on the back of her neck. She hated the feeling of the strap of the party hat digging into her neck.
Her unfavorable choir of canaries finish their singing, and she knows what comes next. She fills her lungs to extinguish the candles for the eleventh time in her life.
“Happy birthday, Vanny.” her father whispers in her ear as the table erupts in cheers.
Vanessa hated and hated and hated and hated and hated and hated and hated and hated-
----------
Mike was sitting on the couch, some inane drama playing on the tv. He wasn't watching it, but Michael liked it and so it was often playing in the house and Mike liked the background noise. He was thinking about his conversation with Vanessa. He's overthinking, like always.
Abby was in bed, tuckered out from a long day of sun and water, and Michael was in the kitchen making a cup of tea.
Was Vanessa upset with him? Did he do something wrong? He scrubbed his hands across his face and let out a long sigh. He hears as Michael sets something down in the kitchen before he rounded the corner to stand in the doorway between kitchen and living room. He was holding his mug of tea and wearing his fuzzy slippers and it was almost hard to believe this was the same guy who had tried to kill him just a couple years ago. Oh well. He didn't actually kill him.
“Whats wrong?” he asked, exasperated but caring.
“Nothing's wrong.” Mike lied.
“Youve been moping since we got home, Mike.” Michael deadpaned.
“You didn't make me a cup of tea?” Mike says, pointing at the one mug that Michael was holding. Michael briefly disappeared back around the corner, grabbing the other mug from the counter.
He sat down next to Mike on the couch, passing the mug over. He had sweetened it just how Mike liked. He could pretend to be aloof and uncaring as much as he wanted, Mike knew it wasn't real. He smiled to himself as he sipped his tea.
“So what is it?” Michael asked, crossing his legs.
“Its just-” Mike didn’tt know how to say this without sounding like a douchebag, “I want to do something for Vanessa's birthday but she was really evasive about it earlier.” Michael nodded, understanding.
“Well, Mike-”
“I know!” Mike cut him off, “IknowIknowIknow, it's complicated, and your childhoods were awful, and mundane things can be triggers, I know. I just- I want to help.”
Michael raised his eyebrows, but nodded for Mike to continue.
“Im sorry,” Mike said, Michael just shook his head, “I want her to know how important she is to us. And she always goes all out for Abby's birthday, I just-” he held out his hands, as if waiting for the words to fall into them, but nothing came. He sighed.
“What did she say she wanted?” Michael asked.
“She doesn't want to do anything. She just wants to have Sunday dinner like usual.” Mike said.
“Well, if she doesn't want anything, then we shouldn't do anything.” Micahel said, rubbing soothing circles across Mike's back. Mike pouted slightly. “But, I'll talk to her. We can love her as much as we can, but we can't choose the love she decides to accept. The best thing we can do is be there for her. Like you're here for me.” he said, planting a chaste kiss to Mike's lips.
“You don't have to make me feel like a better person right now, I know this is selfish. I mean its her birthday, it's not about me, it's just-” Mike really wished words wouldn't keep failing him, he groaned, putting his head in his hands.
Michael gently peeled Mike's hands away from his face.
“You have a good heart, Mike,” he said, giving him a small smile, “you just think too much.”
----------
Thirteen candles on the cake. She counts and recounts. Thirteen. She knows it's true, she just can't believe it. Her only real friend is gone, and it's her fathers fault. It's almost been a full year. It feels wrong to celebrate without her.
A new group of kids, a new cake, a new Freddys. A new outfit, new gifts, another year older, and yet. The grin her father wears is the same. Wish as she may on every candle on every cake, Vanessa is the same girl, in the same house, with the same family. There's nothing she can do. She will always be his. That's what he always says, anyway.
----------
Abby was not ready to start high school.
She was going into her freshman year and all she had heard from everyone around her was that it was about to be the worst four years of her life. She had lived through custody battles, both of her parents meeting unfortunate ends, and living with her brother who really had no business raising a child, but she was so young when all of that happened.
Mike really wasn't that bad of a guardian. He loved her and he tried his best in every aspect, but she didn't have a mother or a father or stable income, so it was difficult. She didn't blame Mike, not really.
A couple weeks ago she had realized that she was now the age that Mike was when she was born. She couldn't imagine having the responsibility of a child thrust on her now. Even if her parents were there for the first couple of years, she didn't remember them. And, she knew Mike did the brunt of raising her even when their parents were there.
Tomorrow was her first day of ninth grade, a Wednesday for some reason. The school board always did that. It made Abby angry, like how a week ‘technically’ starts on a sunday even though thats the weekend. She knew it didn't really matter, but still, a Wednesday??
It really didn't help that she didn't have any friends. She had managed to make a couple in middle school, but they were all going to the other high school in the district, so that left her at ground zero.
She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom, looking at all of the stuff off of her teachers lists that Mike had taken her shopping for. He had said it wasn't a big deal, but she noticed how he sighed when the employee told him the price of it all. She was reusing a fair bit of the stuff she had from middle school, but the lifespan of a plastic binder you have to use every day seems to be much shorter than one might think.
A knock came from her door and she looked up to see Michael standing there. She really liked the guy and was happy that he had moved in. But more importantly, she was happy that Mike was happy. She knew he didn't have much time for personal interests let alone romantic ones, and it was more than partially her fault. Now that she was getting older, she was happy that he was actually pursuing them. Especially because she knew if her dad was still alive, he would not approve of anything going on in this house. She barely knew him, and the more she learned about him the more she thought it was good riddance.
“What's up Michael?" Abby asked.
“Ness is here,” he said, gesturing behind him towards the front door, “says she's got something for you.” he smiled.
Micahel backed away from the door to Abby's bedroom, allowing Vanessa to enter.
“It's nothing much, just some girl stuff I bet these stinky boys couldn't help you with.” Vanessa said, moving to sit next to Abby. She looked at Michael, and then at the door, then back to Michael and nodded in a clear gesture of “get out”. He raised his hands in surrender and backed out, closing the door.
“Finally,” Vanessa said, making Abby giggle.
“So what did you bring me?” Abby asked. Vanessa produced a small bag from her inner jacket pocket.
“Like I said, nothing big, but when I started high school one of my older friends gave me what she called a school survival kit.” She undid the zipper on the small bag and started to pull things out.
“Pads and tampons, obviously,” she said, pulling out the brightly wrapped products, “chapstick, hair ties, floss picks, a tidestick, ibuprofen, sour candy, and… these.” The last thing she pulled out of the bag was a bundle of brightly colored rubber bands.
“Silly bands?!!?!?” Abby exclaimed.
“Well, you may not need them but I know they're all the rage and thought they might help you start some conversations.” Vanessa said, sliding a yellow band shaped like a dinosaur onto Abby's wrist.
“I love it, thank you Vanessa.” Abby said, leaning over to give Vanessa an awkward sitting hug, but the gesture was understood.
“You’re very welcome.” Vanessa said, smiling, “and if there's anything else you need, or you run out of any of that stuff, you just let me know, yeah?”
“Okay,” Abby said, smiling.
“Anything else?” Vanessa asked, "you've gotta get some sleep and i've gotta get home. Are you feeling alright about this? Nervous or anything?”
“Feeling much better now,” Abby said, holding up her little bag of things, “but there is one thing… is it your birthday this weekend?”
Vanessa let out a long sigh and dropped her head into her hands.
“Oh, not you too.” she said, muffled by her hands, “how did you know?” she asked, lifting her head.
“I heard the boys talking about it the other day.” Abby shrugged, “but if you're going to get me a gift for starting high school then you have to let us do something for you.”
“Abby..” Vanessa said.
“Vanesaaaaa…” Abby replied in a teasing tone, but there was no real heat behind it. Abby knew Vanessa couldn't say no to her, she just didn't have the will power. They were simply locked into this staring contest until Vanessa relented.
Vanessa sighed, long and loud, and probably a little bit exaggerated.
“I’ll think about it, how about that?” she seemed to finally settle on.
“Better than nothing,” Abby said. Vanessa rolled her eyes, standing up to leave.
“Goodnight, birthday girl!” Abby called as Vanessa opened the door. Vanessa picked up a pillow from the floor and threw it at Abby, throwing her into a fit of giggles.
“Go to sleep.” she said, smiling as she shut the door.
----------
Looking in the mirror, Vanessa brushed her hair for the first time being fifteen years old. Every year she tries to puzzle together the differences she feels, and she never can. Today, being fifteen, feels the same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before.
She's getting ready for her party. The party she doesn't want to go to. She looks at the clock on her wall, watching the minutes tick by. Only an hour and forty minutes until she hears her father utter the words she dreads every year. Only an hour and thirty nine minutes until she has to smile and play the part of the perfect daughter. Only an hour and thirty eight minutes until she has to walk into the grave of five innocent kids and listen to everyone celebrate her. Only an hour and thirty seven minutes until she has to relive yet another nightmare.
She wishes going backwards in time was just as easy as going forward.
----------
Vanessa sat in her apartment, by herself, again. You'd think that after so many years of this she would get used to it, but no dice. She was sitting in her bed, the bed she went to sleep in alone every night, the bed that she woke up in alone every morning.
She sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing. She stretched a little bit, moving to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
She was thinking about her conversations with Mike and Abby. The thing was, she did want to do something for her birthday. She did want them to make her a cake, and she wanted to have dinner with her family and be able to accept their gifts and their attention. The problem was, she just didn't know if she could.
She didn't know if she was going to be able to sit and let them sing to her and not have a full-blown freak out and start pointing her gun at shadows that looked at her wrong. She wanted to celebrate her birthday with them, but she wanted to be normal about it. And she was like, really super bad at being normal.
She pulled her toothbrush out of the cup she kept it in on the bathroom counter and put her toothpaste on it. She looked in the mirror as she brushed, really contemplating the merits of cutting off all of the important people in her life so she didn't have to think about this.
Is this really who you want to be, Vanessa? Someone who avoids everything that could possibly remind you of your past and never works through anything?
It wasn't. She wanted to be strong and put together, and making that reality might mean breaking the facade of it she's had up for all of these years. She wants her friends to be able to tell her they love her without shutting down and saying something stupid like “you too”.
She spat out her toothpaste and replaced her toothbrush in the cup. Placing her hands on the sides of the sink, she leaned in to get an actual good look at herself. She looked into her own eyes, as if trying to gauge her own motivations.
“You dont fuck everything up, you are your own person now, everything is going to be fine.” she said to herself. It was her attempt at some new age thing she'd heard of. Affirmations? Or something? She didn't know if she was doing it right, but it made her feel better.
She moved back to her bedroom, collapsing into her bed.
She promised Abby that she would think about it, but she couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. She didn't really know what she wanted. She didn't know the difference between protecting herself and refusing to heal. It had been years since she had had a William Afton sanctioned birthday party, was it finally time to reclaim this for herself?
Would it be helpful or harmful? Would it be freeing? Would she be thrown into a frenzy and do something she would regret? Was there a way to take baby steps when it came to a birthday party? She just had too many questions. Maybe she should sleep on it? Yeah, she would sleep on it.
----------
At seventeen years old, Vanessa has watched herself disappear. She thinks her blue eyes might have gone grey. She doesn't know when the last time she truly smiled was. She sits next to her father at the old wooden dining room.
“Are you trying to embarrass me, Vanny?" he asks.
“No.” she responds, cold and flat and nearly as dead as she feels. He slams his hands on the table.
“No, what?” he spits in her face.
“No, I'm not trying to embarrass you. I just don't want to have a birthday party. I’m seventeen, I'm not a little kid.”
“But you'll always be my little girl.” he says, placing one big hand on her shoulder and the other on chin, tilting her head up to look in his eyes.
Vanessa tries not to shudder.
“We're having a birthday party for you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” she says. He leans impossibly closer.
“Yes. what?”
“Yes, I understand.” she says, voice so low it's nearly a whisper. Her father smiles and removes his hands. Vanessa has to will herself not to sigh in relief.
“Good. Go get ready.” he stands and whisks out of the room. Vanessa collapses into her arms on the table.
----------
“Would you just call her?” Mike asked.
Michael sighed, he loved this man but oh my god he can never let anything go.
“Come on, you said you were going to talk to her, and Abby said that she said she would think about it!” Mike said, slapping his hands on the table where he was sitting as if to punctuate his point.
“I don't want to be pushy, Mike.” Micahel said, “if all three of us get onto her about it, does that really seem like we have her best intentions in mind?”
“Me and Abby didn't ‘get onto her’ about it, we asked. Politely and respectfully. Because we love her.” Mike said, a little bit defensively.
“It's ‘Abby and I’,” Michael said, poking Mike in the shoulder, but Mike just rolled his eyes, “plus, if she said she was going to think about it then shouldn't we let her call us?”
Micahel was really just stalling. He didn't want his sister to be mad at him and he wasn't a cute little girl who could get away with literally anything. She might yell at him. He knew the intricacies of her childhood and so him pushing this seemed almost tone deaf. They were on good terms for the first time in a long time and he didn't want to mess that up.
“I don't know, but her birthday is in two days so we kind of need to know now.” Mike said.
“I know,” Michael said, placing one hand over Mike's on the table, "I just want the decision to be hers.”
“You’re right,” Mike sighed, "I just wish she would tell us something.”
Just then, as if God had heard Mike's pleas and decided to intervene, the phone rang. Michael stood a bit too quickly, knocking the kitchen chair over in his rush. He picked up the phone as Mike righted the chair.
“Hello?” Micahel said into the receiver.
“Hello! Is this the Schmidt residence? We've been trying to reach you about-” Michael hung up the phone, cutting off the voice. Mike looked at him quizzically.
“Scammer,” Michael shrugged. There goes his fleeting belief that god might be real. Mike looked disappointed, slumping his shoulders.
“Hey, it’s ok, you can't get that lucky,” he said, “I'm sure she'll call tomorrow.” right as he finished his sentence, the phone started to ring again. Michael groaned. These scammers are always so insistent. He held up a finger, gesturing ‘one sec’ to Mike while picking up the receiver.
“Listen,” he said as soon as the call connected, “we don't want to buy your garbage, stop calling this number.”
“Micahel?” a voice that was definitely not the previous one responded.
“Oh. heyyyy Ness,” Michael responded, sharing a wide eyed glance with Mike.
“Were you expecting someone else?” Vanessa asked.
“No, sorry, we just had a scam call I hung up on and I thought they were calling back,” he rushed out, “what can I do you for, Nessy?”
“Ive decided I'll do it.” she said. Michael blinked, not sure what she was talking about for a second, but then putting it together. Duh, birthday. He was just fucking thinking about it for god sakes.
“You… will?” he said, looking at Mike as he stood from the table to move closer to Michael.
“Yes,” she said, “but: no candles, no singing, just the four of us and dinner and cake. And no gifts. And the cake has to be chocolate.”
Michael let out a breathy laugh. Wow. That was a lot easier than he thought it would be.
“Yeah, sure, you got it,” he said, shooting a thumbs up in Mike's direction, “Done.”
“Great. Thanks, Michael." she says, sounding almost relieved, “see you Saturday.” he heard the click of the disconnecting call followed by the dialtone. He replaced the receiver and let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding.
“What did she say?” Mike asked, shaking Michael slightly by the shoulders.
“Birthday party is a go, chocolate cake, no candles, gifts, or singing.” Michael relayed.
“Okay,” Mike said, nodding “okay, we can work with that.”
----------
In a studio apartment that she could barely afford off of her minimum wage salary, Vanessa sits on the floor. She was almost able to forget that today is her birthday. Almost.
This is her first birthday alone. She doesn't know yet that it's the first of many. She's nineteen and she feels like she's on fire. Bruce Springsteen plays softly from the radio on her counter and he seems to be sharing her sentiment.
“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull”
She turns the radio off with a click. Bruce had no idea what she was going through.
She takes her cigarette lighter out of her pocket to light the singular candle stuck into the poptart purchased at the dollar tree.
“Happy birthday, Vanny.” she whispers to herself, blowing out the candle to silence, solidifying her solitude. She curls in on herself. Knees to chest. She just tries to breathe.
----------
Vanessa pulled into the driveway of Mike's house and pulled the keys from the ignition of her truck. She allowed herself a minute to just sit and breathe. It was going to be fine. It was just dinner with her loved ones. She wasn't walking into anything of her fathers creation, it was just… a birthday party. Her first ‘real’ birthday party since childhood. It wasn't even a real birthday party. Just dinner and cake. That's what she kept telling herself on the drive over. Just dinner and cake. She could have dinner and cake. She could be normal.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Walking up to the front door, she noticed a slight shake in her legs and tried her very best to steel herself. This was stupid, she should just go home, call and say she was sick and would see them next week. But then, the door was opening and Abby had wrapped her in a crushing hug and suddenly she felt much more confident that everything was actually going to be ok.
“Happy birthday.” Abby said, voice muffled in Vanessa's shirt where she was still crushed into her.
“Thanks, Abs.” Vanessa said, stroking Abby's hair.
“Hey Ness!” Michael called from the kitchen as Abby led her further into the house.
Vanessa and Abby sat down at the kitchen table as it seemed Mike and Michael were finishing up with dinner. Light banter flowed through the kitchen as Michael swatted Mike away from the stove, insisting he knew what he was doing and Mike would burn everything and Abby laughed. Vanessa let herself relax. This was her family. They loved her. This was all for her, and they weren't trying to control her or shape her into something she wasn't. No, this was simply as it seemed.
Michael set down a big steaming pot of cheesy pasta in the center of the table and started to dish everyone out portions of pasta, broccoli, and garlic bread.
“Thank you for dinner,” Vanessa said, taking a big bite of her pasta, “mm! This is really good!”
“Yeah it is, but I don't see how pickles would improve it in literally any universe.” Abby said, nodding towards the entire jar of pickles in front of Michael's plate. Michael shrugged.
“I like pickles." he said.
“Sure, but you eat them with every meal,” she said, emphasizing her last words, “that’s got to be way too much sodium, man.”
“What do you know about sodium?” Michael asked, “at least I'm not hopped up on sugar all the time like you, that disgusting fruity cereal you eat every morning? Shits gross.”
“Micahel, please don't swear at Abby." Mike said, exasperated. This is clearly a daily argument.
“She's fifteen! She knows what fucking swear words are.” Michael said, gesturing at Abby with both hands.
“Yeah Mike, I know what fucking swear words are.” Abby taunted.
“Abby!” Mike cried.
“She called me a ‘no good son of a bitch’ the other day for fucks sake!” Michael said.
“And I stand by it, you-” Abby started, but Mike cut her off.
“Okay! No more swearing at family dinner. From anyone.” he said, sweeping a finger around the table to point at everyone.
“I didn't say anything.” Vanessa piped up.
“Yes,” Mike said, pointing at Vanessa “thank you Vanessa for being the only person at this table with any manners at all.”
“Does that include you?” Abby asked Mike. Mike just pointed at her plate.
“Eat your fu- eat your food.” Mike said. That sent off rancorous laughter from the whole table as Mike blushed at his mistake. They settled into the easy conversation that Vanessa was so grateful for.
This was… completely different from her expectations. It wasn't like she was completely healed. She was still looking over her shoulder, half expecting to be hurled into the past and feel the weight of her fathers hand pressing into her shoulder, but it didn't happen. She was able to laugh along with Michael and Abby, mostly at the expense of Mike. She got through dinner and was feeling much less anxious about the rest of the night.
After they had all finished their main course and the dishes were in the sink, Mike pulled the plastic wrapped cake from the fridge. It had chocolate frosting and had ‘happy birthday’ written across the top in pink frosting.
“Me and Abby made it. Double chocolate, of course.” Mike said
“I did most of it.” Abby cut in quickly.
“Abby and I.” Michael said at the same time.
“You guys are the worst.” Mike said, throwing his hands up. Vanessa laughed.
“Thank you guys. Really,” she said, “all of you.”
“Of course.” Mike said, handing her the knife and plates to dish out the cake. Michael put a hand on her shoulder, and for the first time in her life, it was a comforting presence, not a threatening one.
“Happy birthday, Ness.” he said and he smiled at her. She smiled back.
Vanessa had to hold back tears as she cut the cake and they all ate and laughed. Mike got chocolate all over his face and would probably never recover from the names Abby and Michael came up with to mock him. This was what a birthday should be like. People who love you and are happy to work with your terms and conditions. People who want to celebrate you no matter how small you want it to be.
This was a step towards progress. Maybe next year there could be singing, and the next year presents, and the next year candles. Maybe one day she would even let them throw her a big party with people and decorations and music. Maybe when she's fifty. But this was a step. She was glad she had people to hold her hand as she took these teetering baby steps.
As she looked around the table at her weird little family who could never seem to agree on a single thing but loved each other wholeheartedly anyway, she decided that this really was a happy birthday.