“So you’re competitive?” he asks.
“Mhm,” I say.
“Wanna race? Down the block and back. I’ll even give you a head start.”
“You really want to lose on Christmas? Santa already didn’t get you anything.” I step up to him, my height almost bringing us face to face.
“He brought me you.” He stares intensely at me, as if the set of his mouth wasn’t enough to let me know he is being serious.
Choosing not to address that comment, I book it towards the gate, popping it open and heading down the street.
After my victory, we come back inside, both our cheeks red and our hands freezing. Every time we look at each other, it’s like there’s a secret between us. The sort of glee that is hard to attain as an adult surges through my chest. It lights me up in a way that has my lips unable to come back together.
“Dinner time,” Rowan calls just as I get warmed up.
I help them bring everything from the kitchen before sitting down next to Rowan. The leaf has been added to the dining room table, making it long enough for all of us. We start with a prayer, and then everyone digs in like it’s the final feast.
“Mary, you really put your foot in this,” I say in-between bites of turkey and stuffing.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, it’s good.”
She pulls her shoulders back a little more and waves away the compliment. Everyone else chimes in with their own, making her sit up straighter. She looks even more beautiful under the light of their praise, emitting the ultimate air of motherly love. I have to turn away.
“So, do you work at the book company with Rowan?” Declan asks.
This is the most interested I’ve seen him look in anything. It sucks that I have to let him down.
“No, I’m a dancer. My artistic expression is more physical.”
“Still very cool,” he says, granting me what I think is the closest thing to a smile.
“I looked you up. You’re good.”
I turn to see that Callahan means the words. He is staring at me just as intensely as he usually does, just this time, his eyes roam up and down the parts of my body he can see.
“Yeah, well, what can I say?” I dust the imaginary dirt off my shoulder, gaining a chuckle from everyone.
When each person looks down at their food, he keeps looking at me, daring me to break eye contact first. I do, if only to avoid the way it feels like he is dressing me down and carving me open.
I turn the conversation towards Rowan’s writing and am delighted when they all jump in to compliment her. I hope it’s the boost she needs to finally do something about her book.
It’s so easy to get lost in the effortless nature that is her family. They dance along like a well-practiced recital, no one overshadowing the other. Like an extra on their stage, I’m graced with the opportunity to join them, and for a moment, feel like I belong.
I wonder if this is what it would have been like if my mother’s family had accepted her mixed child. Maybe that would have changed the way things turned out between us.
It probably wouldn’t have changed anything, but maybe I would feel differently.
Like she can read my mind, Mary asks me about my family.
“I was raised by my dad and my nana. It was like the three musketeers. You would think I was the adult with the way I was always stopping their wild plans. Like my nana wanting to slide down the streets on garbage can lids. The steep roads were her favorite part about San Francisco.”
“So you did have siblings,” Declan says, causing everyone to laugh.
“And now it’s just you and your da?” Cormac asks.
I nod, and no one presses the subject anymore. Which I’m grateful for. Instead, we continue the rhythmic balance of talking until I practically feel like I’m singing inside.
