Was he happy? Art looked down at Gwenog, who was nearly finished with her gingerbread man, and back up at Ester. He stilled his shoulders — his impulse was towards honesty, at least in his physical cues, and he could not admit his failings this close to public.

He had not been happy since his mother died. He could not be certain that he had been happy before then, but certainly he had not been happy since.

"Gwenog is happy," Art said. Gwenog was happy, and she had parents who loved each other as best they could managed, and Art thought that mattered more than his happiness.