Melpomene missed the look Calliope was giving her, because she was giving Thalia one of her own. She felt like Thalia was mocking her; fate shouldn't be treated so lightly. But then... this was Thalia, who in many ways was the other side of her coin, light where she was shadow, and they always did have different views on fate... Looking at Thalia's nervously eager-to-help face, it made her realise that she wasn't the right target for any of her ire.
That was the problem with ire, though. It didn't care about innocent bystanders. Even ones that came bearing cake.
Melpomene dropped her eyes from Thalia for a moment, then raised them again, and gave her a thin smile. It wasn't quite apologetic, but it wasn't lobbing emotional detritus at her either.
When Calliope spoke, Melpomene breathed a deep breath in - as much as she could with her squashed up lungs - and it shook a little on the exhale. "He's a strong and as active a boy as you'd imagine Ares' line to produce," she said, rubbing a hand tenderly on the sore spot by her ribs. "He... hurts. And my body had been trying to prepare me for weeks with these contractions. I'd say - it's all to be expected." Her voice thinned a little. There were moments when she felt so ready for labour, to face it with her head held high, strong and unafraid. Then there were moments when the thought terrified her so much she could barely think of it. She wasn't sure quite where she stood right now, but whatever it was she was feeling, it thinned her voice.
Then problem was, when you stopped lobbing emotional detritus at other people, that left you open for the world to hurl some right back at you.