The room buzzes with excitement, and John nudges me. “Watch out for my Tommy. He’s only twelve, but he’s good at this—he could convince anyone he once worked as a spy.”
I laugh. “Noted. But isn’t he a little young for that?”
“Yes, but the kid can spin a yarn like no one else in this family.”
Everyone gets into the spirit of the game. Tommy tells an elaborate tale involving a celebrity romance, only for Maggie to cut in, “You wouldn’t even know what to do with a movie star.”
The room bursts into laughter.
When it’s John’s turn, he smiles slyly, clearly relishing the chance to stump people. “Here we go. Number one: I got detention in high school for skipping class. Number two: I used to play guitar in a band. Number three: I can juggle.”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to read his face. “You? In a band? You don’t strike me as a rockstar.”
John gives an exaggerated gasp of mock offense. “I’m hurt, Abby. Truly.”
“Is the band the lie?” I press.
Lizzy giggles, and George shushes her.
John shakes his head, a satisfied grin on his face. “No. The lie is that I can juggle.”
I laugh, and Tommy shakes his head in mock disappointment. “He was a terrible guitarist.”
John points at his cousin. “Hey, I was trying my best!”
“Just like when he decided to be a champion ice skater and nearly sent me to the ER,” Grandma teases.
Laughter fills the room. When my turn comes around, I decide to make it interesting. “Okay. Number one: I once rode a mechanical bull and lasted thirty seconds. Number two: I’m allergic to strawberries. Number three: I can sing the entire soundtrack of The Little Mermaid by heart.”
John’s gaze narrows. “The Little Mermaid? Really?”
I shrug, not wanting to give anything away. “You’ll have to guess.”
He and his family deliberate. “The lie is the strawberries,” he says.
I shake my head, laughing. “Wrong! The lie is the mechanical bull.”
John throws his hands up in defeat, and Maggie laughs. “Well, dear, I expect a performance of ‘Part of Your World’ at some point.”
“Maybe next Christmas,” I say, my heart full as I look around the room, wanting to experience this family, this love and acceptance again.
As we continue playing, I laugh so much my side hurts. I’m still overwhelmed by how welcomed I am in this family. The easy camaraderie and the shared jokes feel so natural, like I’ve always belonged here.
When the game ends, John whispers into my ear, “Having fun?”
I rest my head against his shoulder. It’s a position I’ve gotten addicted to since we sat by the fire pit. “More than I could have imagined.”
“Good.”
As the conversation drifts into reminiscing about past Christmases and family memories, John whispers once again, “They like you more than they like me.”
I laugh. “Can you blame them?”
He pretends to sigh. “I guess not. But it’s a good thing you said I couldn’t get rid of you.”
Later, as we put on our coats to leave, his family says goodbye with hugs. Maggie is the last to pull me into her arms. “It’s been so lovely to meet you, Abby. Take care of each other.”
I nod, my throat tight. “I will. Thank you for sharing your Christmas with me.”
