The smell of chocolate filled the room and the woman's hands shook as she carried the cake towards the table filled with smiling faces. The lights were dimmed with the candle flames dancing as she placed the cake down in front of her husband. Wearing his favorite green sweater, he smiled as the family sang to him. Two small children stood next to him bouncing on their toes eyeing the cake anxiously.

"Blow out your candles John!"

John took in a deep breath gripping the edge of the table and let out the air. The two children spun in circles holding hands as John cut the first pieces. Licking their lips, the children took their pieces running to the other room.

"Don't get anything on the furniture." Yelled a younger man over his shoulder.

Giggling the pair promised to be careful. Once the cake was served John thought to himself,

What a life. All my wonderful children came. Even Amy all the way from New York. It's hard to believe it's already been 65 years. Wow, how time flies.

Turning to look into the other room John could see his grandchildren sitting on the gray carpet, with chocolate covered faces, a little girl with blonde curls held her stomach in laughter rolling on the carpet.

They're so innocent. So young. Their whole lives ahead of them. The twins have gotten so big since I last saw them. I'm going to miss this.

John returned to face those sitting at the table. All eyes were glued on him as his wife sat across from him with tears building in her eyes. The young man next to her took her liver-spotted hand gently. Her long white hair moved with the breeze from the fan as she covered her mouth to chew her final piece of cake.

John wiped the corners of his mouth placing the napkin on the table before saying, "Why the long faces. This is a birthday party after all."

John's favorite daughter according to all his child was Amy who was next to him with her arms crossed across her chest frowning.

There was never a worse time to be celebrating than this.

Amy huffed "Why celebrate when this is a funeral?"

John thought to himself, It is a bit ironic. In a sick sort of way it's a funeral. But the word fun is in funeral I suppose. 

Amy's arms uncrossed exposing the wrinkles on her black dress as she placed her hands on the table. Her tight blonde locks bounced as she tilted her head towards her father wait for his response.

John thought, They're so naive. The world has to be this way. It's. It's just the way it is. I don't like it anymore than they do. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave Megan. I don't want Megan to leave. It's just how the world works. I suppose. Smile. Keep it together. 

Across from Amy her brother's face contorted into a frown. Wearing his favorite red t-shirt with the huge yellow smiley face in the center Jack didn't want anything ruining the day. Putting his fist on the table Jack said, "Amy, really. Must you always be so dramatic."

His pale green eyes were barely visible behind his thick eyelashes as he squinted at Amy. Jack unclenched his fist as the house grew silent. The children were frozen in place with their eyes locked on the table of adults.

John chuckled hiding the inner turmoil.

He thought to himself, They'll never change. Always bickering. I wish I had all the time in the world. Why can't I have more? I'm being selfish. But what about Megan? The kids? This world's so calculated. So. So cruel. They live and they die. I'll miss this. It's ridiculous. Here we are acting as if this is normal. It's funny really. A dark kind of funny. 

Confused looks filled the faces of those around the table as John leaned back wiping tears from his laugh fit.

"You two never stop. It's like you never grew up."

"Dad. It's not funny. This is serious." Amy said as pouted in her chair.

The fan above the hummed causing what little hair John had left to lift from his scalp looking as if it was waving to the family. John rubbed his almost bare scalp with his pale, rough callused hands.

He reached out his hand for Amy's as he responded, "Sweetie, you have to find the humor in such a day. You two even on my last day are still bickering like when you were children. Your mother used to say you two would be fighting one another until your dying breath. Without laughter, we have no hope."

Amy gripped his hand giving a small side smile as tears rolled down her cheek. Sniffles filled the room as a blue box of tissues made its way around the table.

John stood up clasping his hands, "Now enough crying. Let's play a game."

The rest of the evening the family sat in the living room crowded around the small wooden and glass table in the middle of the floor playing games.

#

After everyone was gone the couple sat in their living room relaxing when the telephone rang. Megan excused herself from the room to answer the phone. She picked up the phone and waited.

The voice on the other end asked, "You prepped for tomorrow?"

Megan paused making sure John couldn't hear her, "Yes."

"Does he suspect anything?"

Megan whispered, "No."

"Ok, then we the operation is a go."

Megan nodded her response as if the caller could see her and hung up the phone. 

#

"Who was that Megan?" John asked looking over his reading glasses from his worn out green recliner.

"Oh, just a wrong number."

Megan sat down on the couch closest to John's recliner leaning her head on the armrest. Her light pink nightgown shimmered under the lamplight.

After a long silence, John put down his paper and said, "You'll have the kids."

Megan who had nodded off blinked back the sleep in her eyes responding, "Yeah, it won't be the same though."

"I know, but that's just how it works now."

Megan sat up holding her arms close to herself as a few tears left her eyes, "Hmm. It is."

John closed his recliner and moved to sit down next to Megan. He wrapped his arm behind her as she fell into his arms she began to sob silently. The pair sat on the brown couch until they fell asleep.

The early morning light had just begun to fill the previously dark room when a loud knocking woke the sleeping couple from their peaceful slumber.

Megan leaped from the couch shaking her hands as she was jumping up and down in a panic.

"No. No. NO. I didn't get to make you any breakfast. This is not fair."

John stood to his feet quietly and placed his hands on each of Megan's arms before kissing her on the forehead.

"It's fine. I won't be needing it where I'm going." John chuckled. 

Slapping his arm, she teared up, "That's not funny."

"I know. I know." John hugged her tightly before letting go to answer the door.

 John thought to himself, God I'll miss that woman. It's going to be ok. It has to be. 

As John scooted down the hallway towards the door he thought to himself,

I could've run. I should've run. I'm not ready. No. It's going to be ok. Remain calm.

John reached out to turn the knob, as the door opened the hall filled with sunlight and two shadows filled the doorway. John covered his eyes trying to block out some of the blinding light as he eyes began to adjust to the lighting change the two figures waited to be invited in.

John invited the two men inside. The pair were wearing white jackets and scrubs with the only a small speck of color being the black cross over their jacket pockets. One was a head taller than his companion who had blue eyes and black hair that was slicked back. The taller man looked too tall for his white jacket like a child wearing hand-me-downs. His hair was a bright red with a part down the middle.

#

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