It was the girlfriend hour—a family tradition. Georgia had devised it years ago—before there were any kids to care about, or so family legend had it. Every holiday, for one hour, while the men were watching football, the women gathered in the living room to have cocktails and catch up on the news. They all knew that soon enough there would be a Herculean amount of work to do in the kitchen, but for sixty minutes, no one cared.

This year, for the first time ever, Mom had poured glasses of white wine for Kate and Tully. It made Kate feel very grown up to sit here on the arm of the sofa, sipping her wine. Already the first Christmas album of the year was on the turntable. Elvis, naturally, singing about the little boy in the ghetto.

It was funny how an album, or even just a song, could remind you of so many moments in your life. Kate didn’t think there had ever been any family event—Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, the yearly camping trip—that had been Elvis-free. It just wasn’t a Mularkey family moment without him. Mom and Georgia made sure of that. His death hadn’t changed the tradition at all, but sometimes, if they drank enough, they’d hug each other and cry for the loss of him.

“You should see what I got to do this week,” Tully said, rising to her knees in her excitement. Kate couldn’t help noticing that she looked like a supplicant, waiting for Mom’s blessing. “You know the Spokane rapist case? Well,” she said dramatically, luring them in, “the guy they arrested? His mother hired someone to kill the judge and prosecutor. Can you believe it? And Johnny—that’s my boss—he let me do a first draft of the copy. They even used a sentence I wrote. It was so cool. Next week he’s letting me tag along to an interview with a guy who invented some new kind of computer.”

“You’re really on your way now, Tully,” Mom said, smiling down at her.

“Not just me, Mrs. M.,” Tully said. “It’s going to work out with Kate, too. I’ll get her an internship at the station; you’ll see. I’m already starting to drop hints. Someday you’ll see us both on TV. The first pair of female anchors on a network news show.”

“Think of it, Margie,” Georgia said dreamily.

“Anchors?” Kate said, straightening. “I thought we were going to be reporters.”

Tully grinned. “With our ambition? Are you kidding? We’re going straight to the top, Katie.”

Kate had to say something now. This was spinning out of control, and honestly, today was a good time to come clean. A round of drinks had softened everyone. “I should tell you—”

“We’ll be more famous than Jean Enersen, Mrs. M.,” Tully said, laughing. “And definitely richer.”

“Imagine being rich,” Mom said.