Okay.

He sees Laura that night. He met her picking up Sasha from her elementary school. They had the same car, a Saab with all the accouterments of small children – toys in the backseat, crayons wedged in the cup by the emergency brake. They have been seeing each other for three months. They left their children with the same babysitter that night.

The dinner is at the Italian place they both like. He tells her of his day, about Karen asking for a transfer. She tells him about new funding her program has received, how it will help towards finally adding the forty beds to the shelter that they really need.

They both have to take their children into school the next day, so they end the date kissing each other against their twin Saabs, hands slipping underneath jackets. They make a promise to pass the children off to their respective ex-spouses for the weekend.

He wakes up early, shaves, ties his half-Windsor knot, and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks forty, he realizes, but it doesn't feel like a defeat.

In the elevator he smooths his tie down. His birthday has not been recognized at the office in the fourteen years he has been there. At first he was hurt, then just numb, then, as the birthday humiliations upon his coworkers piled up, relieved. He nods hello to everyone as he walks past, sits down, begins to process the personal files for the day.

He cannot even name the feeling when Pam stands up around noon and announces to everyone, “Hey, okay, everyone? It's Toby's birthday today, so we got him a cake, and we're going to eat it in the break room at two.”

Michael, of course, sticks his head out of his office. “Toby? He's not even, you know,” but then Pam gives him a firm-lipped glare and Micheal retreats.

Inside the break room everyone gathers around him. There are hands on his shoulder, hugs given, warm smiles. Toby searches for the hint of it all being forced, but even Stanley gives him a half-armed hug and says, “Forty isn't as bad as it seems.” Angela gives a small wrapped package. It contains a Affirmation-a-Day calendar.

Pam and Jim bring in his cake, his candles burning, and pass out cups of soda to everyone. Michael, of course, feels the need to lead the toast.

“To Toby. He's not a part of our family,” and here Michael looks around the room, “but he's a really close family friend.”

Toby is okay with that, and leans in close to blow out the candles, holding his eyes closed even after he's breathed out everything that can be given, wishing for something he can't quite name and not wanting to see whether or not his wish has been granted.