and Calypso were somewhere in their rooms by the time Mark had gotten off of work.

Naturally, after being in a hospital all day, he felt gross, and he was exhausted.

Naomi said her goodbyes as she left for the day, and Mark immediately made his way to his bedroom.

He took the quickest shower he could, changing into clean clothes. Despite it being only 4PM, Mark was ready for bed. He could probably sleep all the way until 4PM the following day. He was ready for a laid back night, an uneventful night.

Yet as Mark made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water before his highly-anticipated nap, he knew he wouldn't be having an uneventful night.

Calypso was stood on a stool, a wooden spoon in her hand as she stirred some sort of combination in a metal bowl. Copious amounts of flour were spread all about the kitchen. Mark wasn't sure how the kid had created such a big mess in the ten minutes he was gone to shower. Heck, he wasn't sure how she'd created such a mess with only one available arm.

"What are you doing?" Mark sighed out. He wasn't trying to sound mean at all, but his irritation most definitely came through a bit. He was tired, and the sight of flour all over his kitchen wasn't exactly heart-warming.

But it appeared Calypso was harboring some frustration of her own. Rather than giving Mark her signature smile, she glared icily towards him, something that made Mark immediately frown.

"What's wrong?"

Calypso ignored Mark, continuing to stir with her wooden spoon, her frustration only building up as a result. Stirring with one hand proved to be a challenge considering she didn't have an extra hand to steady the bowl while she stirred. Even more so, she was right-handed, and her right hand was currently lying in her arm sling, off limits for any use.

She had learned that today at school when she found out she wouldn't be able to write until the sling was off, and she would need her own personal scribe to write things down for her. How embarrassing.

Mark tried to rack his brain. He hadn't done anything particularly worthy of pissing off a six-year-old...had he?

They hadn't even seen each other all morning, actually. He'd been at work, and she'd been at school. So what was the issue?

Mark examined the very tense-looking kid in front of him frantically stirring with that wooden spoon. Mark figured the chances of a six-year-old seriously maiming him with a wooden spoon were slim to none, and he took that as an invitation to beckon closer and see what on Earth was in that bowl.

Whatever was in the bowl did not look promising. Lots of flour, brown powdery mix, and two whole eggs.

At first, Mark thought she was partaking in some sort of science experiment.

But then he spared a glance at the chocolate cake mix that was ripped open beside the bowl, making it very evident Calypso was attempting to make a cake.

"Oh, Cal..." Mark trailed off, grimacing at the contents inside the bowl. It looked like anything but cake batter.

But Mark figured "Your cake mix looks really ugly" was a great way to piss the six-year-old off even more. Then he probably would have to worry about getting maimed with a wooden spoon.

Mark cleared his throat, trying to think of something a bit nicer and more constructive. "You're not actually supposed to just...put the eggs in like that. You're supposed to crack them."

"The box said two eggs." Calypso snapped harshly, not seeming to see anything wrong with placing two uncracked eggs in her batter, shells and all.

Mark nodded slowly, watching Calypso continue her aggressive one-handed stirring. "I'm getting the feeling you're not happy with me."

"I'm not happy with you." Calypso confirmed Mark's words. "I'm angry with you, I'm so angry with you that I'm...I'm..."

Calypso racked her brain, trying to think of another word that could possibly sum up her anger towards the man. Sadly, there weren't many synonyms for angry in her vocabulary.

"I'm so angry." Calypso mumbled, finishing her statement from earlier.

"And why is that?"

Calypso looked up at Mark for the first time since he'd entered the kitchen, her eyes cold. "Do you know what today is?"

"Uh...Tuesday?"

Calypso scowled, turning her attention back down to frantically stirring her cake mix. It was very evident that Tuesday wasn't the answer Calypso was looking for.

"October 15th? Global Handwashing Day?" Mark took two more guesses, neither of which sparked a positive reaction from Calypso. "I don't know, I'm stuck. Help me out here."

"It's Daisy's birthday." Calypso mumbled, not taking her eyes off of her cake mix. "And you forgot."

Mark hadn't forgotten, actually, because he hadn't known at all. Daisy had never told him, nor had her social worker.

But that didn't matter to Calypso. Daisy was the most important person in the whole entire world to her. Not knowing Daisy's birthday wasn't an excuse, Calypso's logic was that everyone should just automatically know when Daisy's birthday is.

"I didn't know that." Mark attempted to defend himself, but Calypso wasn't having it.

"Daisy was right. You're just like Mr. Walter." Calypso spoke harshly.

Mark had no clue who this Walter character was, but the way that Calypso had spoken his name with such hatred made it evident that Mark had unknowingly just received the worst insult of his life.

"So...you're making her a birthday cake?" Mark guessed.

"Because you forgot." Calypso reiterated her point for the twelfth time. "She's probably in her room right now crying. She's probably so upset."

Daisy was ecstatic, actually. She loved not having any attention on her, she loved getting to stay in the shadows all day. Staying away from the birthday spotlight was the best present that Daisy could possibly receive.

Mark felt guilty though, and he really hoped Daisy wasn't too hurt that he hadn't known today was her birthday. He decided that checking on her wasn't a bad idea.

Mark excused himself from the frustrated six-year-old for a moment as he made his way down the hallway. His mind immediately jumped to worst possible scenarios. He pictured Daisy laying there, crumpled in on herself as she sobbed. He pictured her tear-stained face as she sat there alone, broken that nobody had remembered her birthday.

But as Mark opened Daisy's bedroom door, he could tell that she was quite the opposite. She was laying in bed with a book, looking as relaxed as ever. If being forgotten bothered Daisy, it wasn't showing.

Daisy looked up at Mark expectantly, as if Mark were interrupting her reading and she really just wanted him to leave so that she could proceed.

"You didn't tell me today was your birthday." Mark frowned as he spoke quietly.

"Oh, right." Daisy shrugged, looking down at her book as she spoke. "It's my birthday."

Mark wasn't sure why Daisy seemed so careless. When Mark was Daisy's age, he wanted anyone and everyone to know when his birthday was. He wanted a big party, and all the presents and the attention. Why didn't Daisy want that?

"Are you upset?" Mark asked curiously, Daisy tilting her head in confusion as she looked up from her book again.

"Why would I be upset?"

If anything, Daisy was upset in this moment that Mark had found out today was her birthday. She had been looking forward to a day without the attention.

Mark wasn't sure if Daisy genuinely wasn't upset, or if she was just saying that and she was upset. Girls are confusing, sometimes they say they aren't angry when they're actually furious. Mark had a slippery slope ahead of him.

"So...you're...not angry?" Mark asked cautiously, still very confused.

Daisy shook her head. "It's a birthday, Mark."

The way she said it baffled Mark, like it was the most insignificant thing in the world. The two of them clearly had very different ideas about the importance of birthdays.

"Well, uh...Calypso's making you a cake."

Daisy winced immediately at that. Her little sister was still having trouble learning to tie her shoes by herself, she could only imagine what a cake baked by her would look like.

"Please scrap that immediately." Daisy requested, Mark not able to conceal his grin. It was probably best for everyone's health if the cake was scrapped immediately.

Daisy turned her attention back to her book, and Mark figured that was his cue to leave. She seemed to just want to be by herself.

He walked back towards the kitchen, the six-year-old looking a bit nervous as she looked up at Mark.

"What'd she say? Was she upset?"

Mark shook his head. "Not at all."

Calypso relaxed a little like that. "Oh...good. Good. I'll finish the cake."

"I think...maybe it would be best if we started over and made a new cake." Mark said, sparing a glance down at the disastrous looking batter.

A positive was that the eggs had been cracked, and the batter no longer held two whole eggs.

It did, however, contain a whole lot of shells that would be impossible to remove. Calypso had seemingly cracked the eggs in the batter with her wooden spoon, and it made the batter look even scarier than it did before.

Calypso immediately frowned at Mark's words, feeling very offended. "You don't think my cake looks good?"

"Of course not, it looks really good." Mark even threw in a smile to really sell his not-so truthful statement. "But...I think Daisy's feeling vanilla rather than chocolate."

Calypso was a little confused at that. Daisy didn't really like vanilla-flavored things. Heck, Daisy didn't even like cake. Calypso had felt obligated to make her one anyway though because everyone deserves a birthday cake, even cake-hating sisters.

"Daisy doesn't like vanilla." Calypso spoke slowly as she studied Mark, not sure if the man was being truthful or if he just really hated her cake and wanted her to get rid of it.

"She does today." Mark mumbled, retrieving a new box of cake mix from the pantry.

Mark had an overwhelming surplus of cake mix boxes. He himself wasn't a baker at all, though. The boxes were more for Arizona, who goes through odd phases occasionally of anger-baking.

The makers of the tiny humans made Arizona frustrated a whole lot. Her frustration went into baking cakes.

And that one week Callie and Arizona had been fighting non-stop? Mark never thought he'd stop seeing the overwhelming pastels of cake frosting.

It would be incredible if Arizona could channel that frustration into a different hobby. Maybe crocheting, or painting or something.

Anything but baking. The woman wasn't very good at it, and Mark would bet money that the one-handed six-year-old who doesn't know how to crack eggs would bake a cake that was much more digestible than Arizona's.

Calypso was still wary about whether Mark was being genuine or not. Maybe he did genuinely want to do something nice for Daisy. In that case, Calypso felt awfully bad for having trashed his kitchen.

"Sorry about the mess." Calypso mumbled as she scanned her surroundings. She hadn't really even realized she'd caused so much destruction, maybe her anger had blinded her.

But ingredients were spilt everywhere. Pans had been dragged out all over, and the kitchen counter was home to a flour massacre.

Calypso couldn't exactly help clean up though. She was incredibly limited with her arm in a sling, not to mention it was starting to hurt her already.

But Mark shrugged, not even batting an eye at the mess. He looked unfazed, gently pushing Calypso's batter out of the way as he began to make a new cake.

Calypso frowned as she moved out of the way, taking a seat at one of the barstools instead. Maybe she couldn't bake a cake, but she could definitely act as supervisor. This cake needed to be perfect in every way, she would watch Mark to make sure nothing went awry.

Calypso watched in fascination as Mark made the cake. He seemed to know exactly what to do, hardly having to glance at the back of the cake mix box for instructions.

That's something that Calypso always wondered—how do adults always know what to do?

Calypso couldn't wait to be an adult. They could do everything. They could drive cars, they could tie their shoes on their own, they didn't have homework. They could even multiply numbers in their head. How cool is that?

"Ohhhhhh." Calypso mumbled to herself as she watched Mark crack an egg into the batter. That's what the box had meant.

But...two eggs? They couldn't have been a little more specific? They couldn't have said crack two eggs? Calypso couldn't believe the box had been so vague. Who on Earth would know that they were just supposed to crack eggs, was that an implication that no one had told Calypso about?

Calypso frowned as she pushed her thoughts away, focusing on the cake being made instead. It looked good, even though it was just batter—much better than Calypso's, at least.

Daisy would be getting a perfect birthday cake after all, and that made Calypso happy. It was nice that Mark was making her one.

"So...you really didn't know?" Calypso asked warily. All day she had drilled it into her brain that Mark was evil, that Mark had intentionally neglected Daisy's birthday to make her feel bad. But...maybe he really was just in the dark. Calypso figured he probably wouldn't make a cake if he was trying to be intentionally neglectful.

"I really didn't know." Mark confirmed as he continued to stir the batter.

"Oh." Calypso frowned deeper, feeling a little embarrassed as she thought back to the words she had let out earlier. "I'm sorry for saying you were just like Mr. Walter. That was mean."

Mark had heard that name before from the girls, but he still had no clue who the man was. "Who's Mr. Walter?"

"The meanest person ever." Calypso mumbled. "We used to live with him. And...and he made Daisy's birthday awful last year."

"Why? What'd he do?"

Calypso was silent, and the cloudy expression on her face made it very evident that the girl wouldn't be discussing the specifics.

Calypso knew that hate was a mean word. You should never hate anyone, but Calypso seriously hated Mr. Walter.

There was a time that Daisy used to be warm and happy, like sunshine. She had always had that relative shyness about her, but it wasn't even shyness anymore. Daisy was genuinely just afraid of everything and everyone. Mr. Walter took Daisy's sunshine, and Calypso hated him for it.

They were three months into life with the Walters on Daisy's twelfth birthday. The hitting hadn't been anything strange to them at that point. But it was Daisy's birthday. She was supposed to have a cake, and a smile on her face all day.

Mr. Walter had given Daisy extra bruises to sport instead of a birthday cake, and it made Calypso sad. It wasn't fair that Daisy was the one always used as a punching bag.

Calypso was so still as she remembered past memories that Mark seriously wondered if she was okay. Her stillness was alarming.

Yet before any comments could be made, the girl of the day walked out of her bedroom and into the kitchen.

Daisy's gaze hardened on the nightmare that was the kitchen. "Caly, did you...?"

"I didn't mean to." Calypso snapped out of her weird trance as she quickly scattered to defend herself. "I was just trying to bake you a cake, and then everything went everywhere and I couldn't help it and-"

"It's okay." Mark cut off Calypso's panicked rambling. "We can clean it up, it's not a big deal."

Calypso looked a little more eased at those words, nodding a bit.

But Daisy's eyes still darted all over the messy kitchen. She couldn't even begin to think of the list of consequences for a mess so big.

"I'll clean it up." Daisy quickly offered. "I'll clean it up, I promise. I'm sorry she made such a mess, but I-"

"It's not a big deal. It's fine." Mark assured again, letting out a quiet laugh. "You worry way too much."

It wasn't worrying in Daisy's eyes as much as it was just being careful. It's much better to always assume the worst possible case scenario so that you're not disappointed when something bad happens.

"Your cake is baking." Mark nodded over to the oven. "Sorry that everything is so last minute. I could see if Callie and Arizona could come over and-"

"No." Daisy quickly shook her head. "No, that's alright."

"Are...you sure?" Mark asked. He didn't want the girl to have to experience such a lonely birthday. "I'm sure they'd love to come over."

Daisy shook her head again. As much as she liked the women, she didn't want so many people over. She wanted the most laid back and low-maintenance birthday that could possibly be mustered.

"You'll have to make a wish." Calypso reminded Daisy gently, giving her a small smile.

Daisy didn't like making wishes. There were far too many things she would wish for that she knew she couldn't have. Her parents, for instance, would be on top of her fantasy wish list. Things that she could never possibly have, but things that she wanted so desperately.

Most kids her age would probably wish for a new phone or something. A new laptop, a new bicycle. Heck, maybe a pony.

Daisy wished for happiness. It was stupid, but Daisy was getting desperate. Her days were becoming long and difficult to get through. Sadness and anxiety and fear tormented her brain day after day.

Even if it would only last a little while, Daisy wished for happiness to help get her through.