The soft spot firms up with a quickness, though, when Felix tricks me into thinking he hurt his knee, limping, only to knock me down with a snowball the size of my head. He pulls the same stunt on Mom, who rushes over to help him only to receive a coldwhite splat to her hip. When he comes for Athena, however, my older sister has no compassion and blasts him right in the gut. Then she makes sure no one can retaliate by shouting that she might be pregnant. Sean locks himself inside his car for half an hour, forehead against the steering wheel, sobbing. He doesn’t get out until she admits she lied.
Minnesota Moon pelts Grandma, who isn’t as spry as she used to be. She’s a tall woman wearing all black, a stark contrast against the snow, which puts her at a disadvantage in this game. “I’ve got you covered, Grandma!” I cry, running up behind Minnesota Moon. I grab her, hefting her over my shoulder. I zigzag through the yard, tackling children, delighting in their shrieks. Hall grins from the sidelines. I’m struck by a long-ago memory of Grandma playing with us when we were little, too. I only remember one time in the winter—she dragged us in a long wooden sled from the back of the house over toward the woodpile. Athena tipped over the side when Grandma went too fast, knocking out a loose baby tooth. The tooth fairy brought her a guilt-ridden eighty dollars that night, which she spent at Rocky Road Ice Cream Parlor. She bought Felix, Kaia, and me ice cream cones every day for the rest of the visit.
Hall strolls over to me, wearing the smile he dons whenever he’s feeling particularly pleased with himself, and I automatically smile back at him.
“What?”
He observes the air around me. “Your happiness meter has been climbing higher by the day. When I walked over to you just now, it went up another notch.”
“It did not.”
“It did so, and that is because you’re happy to be around me,which you shouldn’t be embarrassed about. You can’t see my happiness meter, but if you did, you’d see it’s bursting through the roof.” He wriggles his fingers, miming an explosion. “Wires and sprockets everywhere.”
My lips twist. “You’ve been hiding from the carnage you provoked.”
His mouth flattens as he cuts the house a long, world-weary frown. “I got sidetracked talking to Kaia about her custom of ending relationships out of fear, even when she still loves the person.”
I stare at him wonderingly. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”
“Have you listened to her singing lately? Somber love songs. The closer we get to Christmas, the more somber she gets. Sometimes, people don’t know how to healthily communicate, so the requests end up coming out backwards or sideways or invisible. Sometimes, people could use a hug, but they ask for it by halfheartedly flinging a snowball at your face.”
“If you say so.” I am somewhat disturbed by his assessment of Kaia. Maybe I should be giving her more hugs myself.
“I just told her that I saw her happiness was low and said that if she opens up to her family instead of dealing with her struggles alone, she might feel better.” He levels me with alook, so that I know exactly who he’s segued into talking about.
“Opening up is not a Watson-Hughes family forte,” I reply thinly.
“I think people can work out anything, as long as they put in the effort. Even though you’ve argued with your family a few times this visit, you haven’t left. You’re still here.”
“That’s because you’re here. You make it better.”
The light in his eyes dims somewhat, smile fading. But hehooks his arm in mine and briskly changes the subject. “Time for dinner. I fixed a turkey, with all of the traditional sides, so that I can pretend it’s Thanksgiving. Kind of a two-in-one! We’re eating a bit early because I have a surprise in store for later.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
*
“Oh, notthat!”
“Yes, that! Come on.” Hall grabs my arm, steering me toward the spiked black gate bordering my grandparents’ property, opening it up to the sheer, plunging driveway. He’s always been a whirlwind, but his velocity is especially powerful this evening. He rushed us through dinner so that we could get to this part, but by dinner’s end, when he was trying to convince us all to accept third helpings, I could tell he was regretting not taking his time. Now we’re overstuffed and the last thing we want to do is go on a walk, but the bracing air does feel nice.
“Caroling!” Mom cries, clutching a song booklet to her chest. We’ve all got a copy, but I don’t think any of my family members have examined the covers closely enough to realize that the vintage artwork of the group of people singing isus. “I adore caroling!”
Kaia belts out a few lines with such easy and enviable talent that Athena pouts. “It isn’t fair to make me sing alongside a professional.”
“You sang in that J.G. Wentworth commercial,” Sean reminds her, but is silenced with a glare.
“This is going to be fun!” Hall says. “I promise.” It comes out sounding likeor else.
He leads the way down to Old Homestead Road, the conductorof our caroling train. The children keep zigging and zagging, shouted back into place by Grandma, whose favorite part of the holidays is getting the chance to boss the youths. Felix is showing off his baritone, asking Mom who’s the better singer, him or Kaia. I make up the caboose, because I’m still trying not to have fun. It’s a lot more challenging than I’d expect considering it’s quality time with my family. I’m on the dangerous precipice of smiling for no reason.
Peaches and cream oatmeal, I think to myself, focusing on the ills of this world.Tucker Carlson. The cancellation ofPushing Daisies.The dog from the Bush’s Baked Beans commercials.Family Guy. (They’ve made fun of me before.)The way Play-Doh smells like it should be edible.Hall’s got the Watson-Hughes clan singing “Here We Come A-Caroling” and he hasn’t had to threaten anyone’s lives to do it. Sean and a few of the kids had laughed off the suggestion, but here they are, louder than all the rest, showing off their pipes. Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa harmonize effortlessly. Dad hums, which is his limit. I hum under my breath, too, lip-syncing whenever Hall glances over his shoulder.
I refuse to be joyful. I haven’t been the most stubborn human on earth for twentysomething years in a row just to break that streak now.
“Psst.”
Hall has smoothly materialized at my side, syncing his steps with mine.
