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Jonathan’s sister, Alice, and her husband and kids arrived in a burst of activity, trailing fresh—warm—morning air and bags of gifts.

“Merry Christmas!” Alice called.

“Presents!” Charlotte and Henry bounded over to the Christmas tree.

The rest of the family gathered around and began opening gifts, one at a time. Jonathan’s dad, Steve, had turned on some jazzy Christmas music, the volume low. Everyone helped themselves to French-toast casserole, drizzled with maple syrup and topped with whipped cream and berries. As the kids delighted over their presents and the adults opened packages to reveal sweaters, books, and puzzles, Phoebe felt herself fading into the background. It was more awkward than she could have guessed, watching a family open Christmas gifts with nothing to contribute. Why didn’t I at least bring something for Jonathan? For his mom? To be fair, by the time he’d invited her, all the shops around here had been closed. But still, she felt like a schmuck.

“Uncle Jonathan, are these from you?” Charlotte held up two lumpy packages, both wrapped in Snoopy wrapping paper. Jonathan nodded, and Charlotte squealed, gave one to her little brother, and tore the paper off her own. “No way!” she shrieked. “Is this a robot puppy?”

Jonathan laughed and nodded. “My parents would never let me have one of those, but I always wanted one.”

“It’s so cute!” Charlotte admired her puppy and compared it to Henry’s, then begged her dad to put batteries in them.

Phoebe felt a surge of warmth toward Jonathan. He had said he gave his niece and nephew the best gifts. Imagining him walking the aisles of a toy store in the city, deliberating over the options, made Phoebe feel like she’d swallowed a warm gulp of cinnamon-scented coffee. She smiled at him. He looked up and smiled back. The moment was quickly interrupted by Alice declaring that it was his turn to open another present.

As he pulled tissue paper out of the gift bag, Jonathan’s face lit up.

“Wait, Alice…” He looked at his sister questioningly.

Phoebe moved closer to look over his shoulder. He held a large black frame with a picture in the middle surrounded by smaller—not pictures, exactly. They looked like old camera film.

“Certified film cells from Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet.” Alice spoke quickly, as though she’d been dying to share this with him.

“Ohh, I thought that was Leonardo DiCaprio,” Phoebe said. The large picture in the middle showed Claire Danes in a fairy costume and Leo, as Romeo, kissing her hand.

“This is so cool!” Jonathan peered down at the little images. “Where did you—wow. Thanks, sis.”

Unnoticed by the rest of the family, Jonathan’s parents exchanged a look with each other. Phoebe remembered that they had never been exactly supportive of Jonathan’s screenwriting ambitions, urging him to stick with a more traditional and lucrative career path. She wondered if they still bothered him about that or if they had decided to let it go.

Phoebe peered down at the film cells and remembered watching that version of Romeo + Juliet in college with Jonathan and a few of their friends. Jonathan had served as the translator for the Shakespearean dialog.

I fear too early, for my mind misgives;

Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin.

“Romeo is being prophetic here. He’s afraid they’re arriving at the ball too early, and the consequences will be bitter. Things happening too early is a theme of the play.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Phoebe had teased, leaning her shoulder into his. He’d looked over at her, his dark eyes inscrutable, holding her gaze long enough that she had to nudge him again and tilt her chin toward the TV, silently reminding him to watch the movie.

She felt a shudder in her belly. The memory made her realize, again, how much she had missed him. She had missed him so much without letting herself acknowledge it.

Why?

It felt like some sort of fear had kept her from admitting it to herself. Was it a fear of being wrong? A fear of the possibility that she had made a mistake?

Possibly a huge mistake?

Because Phoebe didn’t allow herself to make mistakes. Period.

Watching him now, as he passed his gift around and explained what it was to his parents, Phoebe felt a pang of regret. She had been to a boyfriend’s parents’ house for Christmas once before, a few years ago. That relationship had fizzled out right after the new year, but at the time, it had felt like a sign of intimacy and trust to be invited to the guy’s family gathering. Now she had a strange, urgent wish that she were here under different circumstances. That she were here celebrating Christmas with the Lees as Jonathan’s girlfriend.

The thought was so sudden and unexpected that Phoebe bolted into the kitchen.

“You okay, Potato?” Jonathan called.

“Just getting some more coffee,” Phoebe said over her shoulder.