“It’s supposed to be my birthday. Why do you all hate me so much?” “What’s the problem?” Robbie asks. “Are you embarrassed of me?” “Well, no—” “Then it must be us.” “Mom.” I force myself to take a breath. “For the record, I hate you all. And the three of you meeting can only be a horrible experience that all four of us will regret.” “Your concerns have been noted.” Dad’s clearly trying not to tease me.
