Harriet piped the final plume of red icing onto Sam's birthday cake with cramping hands. The chocolate cake rose into a towering peak with a ring of six candles illuminating the raspberry sauce pooled inside the crater at the top.

It was a mighty fine cake. Sure the 'lava' had turned out runny and there were cracks spidering up the side, but what was a volcano without a little chaos? She was sure Sam and his friends wouldn't mind. After all, the only thing messier than a volcano mid-eruption is a swarm of sugar-crazed six-year-olds.

Harriet peeked through the window. The boys were still preoccupied with their water guns, screaming their little brains out as they raced through the yard. Sam shot his with all the precision of a stormtrooper as Peter blasted him right in the middle of his favorite Barney shirt. Her son may not be a sharpshooter, but at least the plants would hopefully get watered.

There was still no sign of Frank.

Harriet ran a hand through her dark, frizzy curls. Of course he couldn't be bothered to come home early. Some days it felt like he'd still be at the office even if the apocalypse broke out, editing the footage he'd filmed for whatever weird product his team had been saddled with that month even as meteors pummeled the planet.

There was no sense waiting any longer, especially with the cake threatening to crumble.

With a flick of her wrist, Harriet struck a match and set the top of the cake ablaze. Carol held the door open for her as the other moms shepherded the kids over to the table they'd set up outside, complete with a jungle-themed tablecloth and Easter eggs filled with plastic dinosaurs for everyone to play with after they ate. "Looks delicious," Carol said with an approving smile. "I couldn't have asked for a better sous chef."

Harriet beamed at her praise. Carol's cakes were as gorgeous and attention-grabbing as the sunrise orange leaves rustling in the early October wind. She'd won blue ribbons at the county fair five years running, and the only reason she hadn't won more was because she'd stopped entering after Peter was born. "Time to let someone else win for once," she'd said with a smirk.

"Aw shucks, you handled the hard parts," Harriet said as a blush warmed her cheeks. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be relying on Betty Crocker."

After a horribly off-key chorus of "Happy Birthday" where the kids looked a heck of a lot more focused on the cake than the birthday boy, Harriet finally set the dessert in front of them. "You know the drill," she said. "Blow those candles out!"

Sam drew in a deep breath before letting out a whoosh that was more saliva than air. The candles thankfully took the hint and extinguished themselves without requiring a second wind.

"What did you wish for?" Harriet asked.

"I wished for Dad to turn into a T-Rex. Then I'd have a dinosaur, and he wouldn't have to work all the time!"

Harriet bit her lip to keep herself from getting emotional as the other boys gushed about how awesome it would be to have a dinosaur. "Well, I can't turn your dad into a T-Rex, but I know something just as cool. Who wants to see this volcano erupt?"

"ME!" The high-pitched squeals of delight sent a headache pounding through Harriet's forehead. All she had to do was carve a couple slices, and then she could finally relax.

While Carol held the plate steady, Harriet sank a knife into the cake. The kids oohed and aahed as raspberry sauce streamed down the chocolaty slope.

Once she finished serving the kids, Harriet finally joined her friends in the shade with their share of the cake.

"That should keep them busy for a while," Harriet said as she gratefully accepted a glass of lemonade from Vicky. The ice had long since melted, but she didn't mind. A little dilution would help the alcohol go down easier.

Vicky laughed, a light yet practiced chuckle. Hearing it still brought a flush to Harriet's cheeks. "I don't know about that," she said. "Ollie's got the metabolism of a shrew. I'd kill to be able to eat like that!"

She'd look good no matter what she did, Harriet thought as she drank in Vicky's golden curls and self-assured smile. If it weren't for the rings on both of their fingers, she'd be all over her in a heartbeat. Then she'd get her heart broken. Again.

Much like an impressionist painting, Vicky was better admired from afar.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll tire himself out," Carol said as she dug her fork into her slice. "That's how it always is. They get hopped up on sugar and then WHAM! They crash so hard they practically fall asleep on their feet."

Patricia nodded sagely. Her lipstick left a crimson smear on her glass as she took a sip of lemonade. "Even Logan can only stay hyped up for so long. His dad had better be ready to help me wrangle him into bed tonight, though. You'd think we were trying to throw him in jail with the fuss he puts up every night."

"Speaking of dads," Vicky said, "where's Frank?"

The mood at the adults' table immediately shifted. "You just had to ask," Patricia said with a sigh.

"It's fine," Harriet said. Her fork scraped the plate, earning winces from all of them. "He's still at work, I think. He didn't even bother texting."

"Sucks," Patricia said. As quiet as she was, her warm brown eyes shone with understanding.

"I'm lucky Eleanor isn't like that," Vicky said. "Well, most of the time. She didn't tell me she couldn't pick Ollie up from school Friday until super last minute, so I may or may not have run a few red lights with my hair still wet!"

"Poor you," Harriet deadpanned. Not only was Vicky the one that got away, but of course she was the one that somehow found a reliable spouse. With a name like Eleanor, it was no wonder the woman was always so responsible. Just thinking it made Harriet feel as if she'd sprouted liver spots across her forehead and developed a hankering for a game of pinochle.

"It's a good thing I brought us a little something, then," Carol said.

The other moms leaned forward. "You've really been spoiling us lately," Vicky said. "What's it this time?"

"Oh, nothing special." Carol hoisted a small Tupperware container onto the table. "Just macarons."

A rainbow of perfectly made cookies beckoned to them. There were enough for everyone to take three, although that would never be enough to satisfy them. Harriet moaned in ecstasy as the delicate crispness of the cookie's exterior yielded to bathe her tongue in the creamy mango center.

"Holy shit," she said, careful to keep her voice low so the kids wouldn't hear. She paused just long enough to scarf down another macaron. "What's in these, crack?"

Carol laughed. "No, but sugar can be like that sometimes, can't it? I think I'll bake more of them tonight, or maybe some brownies." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I may have gone to culinary school, but they didn't need to teach me how good even a basic brownie can be."

The other moms murmured their agreement. "It's good to see you so happy," Vicky said. "Especially after, you know..."

"The divorce?" Carol took a big gulp of her lemonade. "Well, I couldn't go on moping about that forever now, could I? Besides, grandma's recipes have been a huge help! When I'm baking, it's impossible to feel even the tiniest bit bothered by Ryan and whatever that man is up to these days."

"I wish I had something like that," Harriet said softly. "I love Sam. Really, I do. It's just exhausting having to take care of him all by myself most of the time, especially now that Dad's..." Her voice trailed off as she dabbed her eyes.

Patricia slid her a lemon macaron. "We're here for you."

"And don't you forget it," Vicky said as she passed Harriet the last of her share too.

"You're more than welcome to come over to my place sometime if you need to chill for a while," Carol said with a warm smile. "I've been dying to have an excuse to try out my new mixer!"

"That would be awesome," Harriet said. She suppressed a groan as Sam knocked the remainder of his slice onto the ground in his haste to reignite the water gun war. All that work, and now only the ants would enjoy it. At least she'd be able to save the last slice for Frank now that the boys were busy again. "I'm definitely going to need a pick me up after this. I'll just need to convince Frank to keep Sam busy for a bit."

"Easy," Patricia said. "Just say, 'Be a dad for a couple hours while I enjoy myself for once.' Case closed." She clapped her hands for emphasis, clanging her charm bracelets together.

"Oh you sweet summer child," Carol said as she shook her head. "People like that are hard to convince. Show him a speed bump, and he'll think it's a mountain." She put a reassuring hand on top of Harriet's, spreading stray specks of sugar onto her skin. "Take all the time you need, honey."

"Hey, if you and I can make a freaking volcano cake, I think I can get Frank to let me have a little fun."