Hall turns to me in surprise.
It’s kind of a dumb present. I don’t know why I got them, really. Everyone’s going to think this is dumb. They’re going to think it’s corny—
“Aww, that’s so cute!” Kaia cries, unfolding her pajamas and holding them against herself.
“I love them.” Hall hugs his, eyes soft. The material is an icy blue, featuring the Coca-Cola polar bears.
Mom elects herself distributor. “I’ve got a size twelve over here. Who needs a twelve? Here you go. I’m looking for an eight. Jim, here you are. I’ve got a child’s ten. Minnesota, ask your dad if you’re 5T.”
Athena wriggles her fingers high in the air. “Anybody see a ladies’ four?”
“Little tight on my biceps,” grunts Felix, who peeled off his shirt to try on the new one, flexing his arms. Grandpa snorts.
Even Dad tries on his, which Mom praises him endlessly for doing, as the positive reinforcement might persuade him to try couples’ Halloween costumes next year. “Everybody in front of the tree! I want to take a picture. Peach Tree, where are your new pajamas? Well, go get them out of the bathtub! Frangipane, get over here, there are no hamsters in this house.” She and Grandpa herd everybody. Athena clotheslines a nephew in her haste to get the best spot, practicing which smile she wants to use.
“Wait!” Athena dashes upstairs. “Don’t take it yet!”
When she hurries back down, her lips are tinted, hair smoothed. She settles down on one knee and holds a tube of bareMinerals liquid foundation in her palm for the camera.
“Oh myGod.” Felix rolls his eyes.
“Shut up,” she seethes. “It’s Christmas.”
Mom sets a timer, then throws herself into the crowd. “Three, two, one—smile, everybody!”
We gather around her phone to check out the picture. Only three of us were prepared for the camera to go off. Dad tries to weasel out of participating by insisting he be the one to take a redo, but Kaia saves the day, figuring out how to set the timer for fifteen seconds.
“Everybody scoot in!” Mom yells like our lives depend on it. “Bettie, scoot in! More!”
I’m practically in Hall’s lap. He eases an arm around me, and I can’t help it. I do a very fiancée-type thing, and lay my cheek against his shoulder. Hall tilts his head slightly to rest on mine, which pleases me more than it should.Please don’t let my meter go up, I think. The camera flashes and I glance askance, half expecting Hall to be gone. But he’s still here.
I sigh in relief.
“Did we get it?” Mom asks, running back to the camera. “Oooh, that’s a good shot.” She lifts it and unexpectedly snaps another of just Hall and me. “Lovely! You could use that to announce your engagement, Betts. Do you want me to take some of you two out in the snow? Making snow angels! Nowthatwould be cute. We could write your wedding date in the snow, if you have a date. First thing in the morning, that’s what we should do.”
I don’t answer, kissing her cheek good night. Then I turn, catching Hall as he changes the channel fromFrosty the Snowmanto the local news. I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s a sad movie,” he says by way of explanation.
“It’s a Christmas cartoon. I’m shocked you don’t love it.”
“Frosty melts.” He places the remote very carefully on the TV stand so that he won’t have to look at me. “When the winter fun is over, he has to go away.”
My heart squeezes. “Oh.”Right.
We all do the good-night rounds. I’m the best aunt ever because I can reach the cookie basket that Sean hid on top of the fridge, handing out cookies in secret because c’mon, it’s Christmas Eve.
“Night, Grandma.” I air-kiss my grandmother, who has paired her pajamas with a matching blue wig. “Merry Christmas Eve, everybody.” I hug Grandpa, who keeps me for a second longer. I assume he’s going to press some pocket money into my hand, but instead he surprises me.
“Don’t let that one go,” he murmurs at my ear.
“Huh?”
He nods at Hall, who’s hugging Dad tightly, eyes closed, smiling beatifically (Dad is trying to be annoyed but failing). “The way he looks at you. I’ve been paying close attention, to make sure he’s good enough for you... He’s justenamored.”
My mouth is dry. My gaze irresistibly flits to Hall, who feels me watching, and our eyes lock. He flashes that devastating grin, and it’s automatic, how quick I go boneless.
A gleam strikes Grandpa’s clever eye, and I realize: he knows we’ve been pretending. Grandfathers are very good at knowing secrets, especially the heavy-of-heart ones. Maybe it’s my lack of wedding talk, or the way Hall and I are with each other. He doesn’t ask what my motives are, likely guessing that I did it (as I do most things) for attention.
