“Because you didn’t have to,” she said. “Sabine handled it. You didn’t even realize you married the kind of woman who don’t ask twice. And when she stopped having the time, I stepped in. Not because you couldn’t but because youdidn’tson.”
Adair closed his eyes for a second. “Damn.”
“You ain’t the first man I’ve said this to. Probably won’t be the last but you my son and I’d rather make you uncomfortable now than have Ade resent you later.”
That hit him different. He couldn’t fathom resentment from his son. Pam stepped closer, her voice softening.
“He loves you, Adair.Deep. You his hero but one day he’s gonna remember who packed the party bags. Who remembered his teacher’s name. Who actually asked him what kind of cake he wanted instead of just showin’ up to eat it.”
“I’m not tryin’ to let him down.” Adair’s throat tightened.
“Then don’t,” she said. “Not just by showing up when the decorations already hung but by being there when it’s time to tie string to balloons. Pick out napkins. Call the astronaut.”
“We got a astronaut?”
“Not yet,” Pam grinned, knowing she was throwing him a bone. “But…I’ll let you handle that.”
“Alright.” He finally cracked a small smile.
Pam patted his chest twice, then turned to go back inside. “Come on. They got little samples we can try and I’m sure you know your son’s favorite flavor.”
“Vanilla or strawberry.”
“See, you know him, you just have toshowhim.”
Adair stayed still for another moment, watching the reflection of the sky in the window. “Astronaut,” he muttered to himself, then pushed off the car and followed her back inside.
The bakery meeting sat with Adair long after he dropped Pam off. It didn’t play in his mind like a lecture. It felt more like something fundamental—like gravity. Something he could no longer ignore. Pam hadn’t yelled. She hadn’t shamed him. She just told the truth, and the truth stung.
He wasn’t a bad father but when it came to the details, the little things that made birthdays feel like magic, he’d fallen short. Ade was turning six and this year, Adair decided he wouldn’t just show up. He wouldbuildsomething.
After Ade went to sleep on FaceTime that night, still talking about “moon boots” and “zero gravity snacks,” Adair grabbed a legal pad, sat down at the counter, and made a list. He and his mother came to an agreement, and he was ready to take the lead this year.
It started basic but then he paused. He flipped the page and wrote something new:
Make him feel like he’s in space.
The next morning, Adair skipped the gym and instead parked himself at a coworking cafe. He opened his laptop and started searching. Space rentals, themed decor, indoor exhibits. The usual “Space Birthday” Pinterest boards weren’t cutting it. Everything looked cheap, cheesy, mass-produced. He wanted something that would knock Ade’s socks off. Something he'd remember.
Then he found it.
A company that specialized in immersive education setups—traveling dome theaters, full-size inflatable space labs, and yes—real astronauts for hire. Trained performers who knew how to speak to kids and answer space questions like they were from NASA themselves.
Immediately he clicked “request a quote.”
That Friday, Adair took an early lunch to visit the warehouse where they stored the dome. The rep walked him through the specs: twenty-five feet wide, full HD projection, surround sound. A professional actor would walk the kids through their “first mission,” teach them about constellations, guide them on a pretend but very closely simulated rocket launch.
A full immersive projection of the galaxy, complete with constellations, fake moon dust, and a guide to take the kids on a “trip through the stars.”
Ade would lose his mind.
But what stuck with Adair most was when the company asked, “do you have a photo or voice clip you want to include for the intro? A parent message or birthday dedication?”
He hadn’t done that before. He’d always been there, front row, holding the camera, hugging his son but neverinthe memory. Not like this. He recorded it in his car then sent it to the coordinator of Ade’s party.
“Hey, buddy. Happy birthday. I hope this trip to the stars is everything you imagined. Just know, no matter how far you fly, how big stars get or how wide the sky, you’re always the center of mine.”
Adair played it back three times before sending it.