Hank's face blossomed. "Then what happened next?"

"You got very, very quiet. Then you punched Daddy in the nose with your fist."

Everyone laughed but Matt.

"Can we just do this now, please?" he said, rolling his eyes while the laughter continued.

"What time is it, Mama?" Hank jumped up and down in anticipation.

"It's eight after eleven, the exact time you were born.

"You ready, girly?"

"Yep!" Hank turned her face to the sky, the wind slapping her bright orange hair out behind her. "I love you infinity much, Daddy!" she yelled, releasing the first balloon.

They all watched it sail up, up, until it drifted over the trees.

She turned to Charlotte and frowned. "But I don't remember which note is in which balloon!"

Charlotte smiled at her daughter, recalling how the kids had written three notes each addressed to "Daddy in Heaven," and brought them to the party store. The nice lady had inserted the folded-up paper into their balloons before filling them with helium.

"It doesn't really matter, honey. Daddy doesn't mind what order they're in."

Hank nodded seriously, then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm pretty sure that was the one where I told him I got in the majors this year."

"Stop the presses," Matt said.

"Dweeb," Hank responded.

"Okay, gang." Charlotte put her hand on Mart's shoulder and squeezed. "Let's let Hank have her turn. Go ahead, birthday girl."

Hank raised her right hand and opened her stubby fingers, and the second balloon was off. "That was the one where I told him I missed him infinity much," she said with a nod of certainty.

Hank released the third purple balloon. "And that one said not to forget my ballet recital at two o'clock on June seventh."

Hank turned matter-of-factly toward her brother and offered him a gap-toothed grin. "Your turn, Matt."