“Yeah.”

Julia snatches it rather violently.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she hisses.

I set aside the coleslaw for a second and turn to face her. “You have a problem?”

“Why would I have any problem? Relax. You can keep smiling and humming under your breath, not caring about anybody else but yourself.”

“Is it a crime to be happy now?”

“No, but you could be a little less selfish.”

“Why? What did I do?”

Julia brutally mixes her mashed potatoes as she answers. “The fact that you can’t even see it should tell you enough.”

“See what?!”

“That just for once.” She drops her spoons and points at her chest. “This Christmas was supposed to be about me. About my engagement. About introducing my fiancé into the family. But, of course, you couldn’t let me have that. No, you had to bring a new boyfriend home and steal everyone’s attention.”

“Me. Me. Me. Oh, pooh-pooh, poor Julia had to share the attention with someone else, what a tragedy. You sound like a five-year-old. Grow up!”

“And you sound like a bitch.”

“Better a bitch than a brat,” I snap, satisfied to get the last word in.

I get back to the coleslaw, but as I’m unloading a generous serving into the new bowl, the spoon slips from my grip and cartwheels in the air. I dash to catch it mid-flight, but as I grip the handle, a big glop of coleslaw flies away and lands on the side of Julia’s face.

Startled, she brings a hand to her neck. “You didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry!”

I’m so focused on finding a rag for her to clean up with that I miss the mashed potatoes projectile headed for my face. It hits me in the right temple, sliding down my hair.

“Are you crazy?” I glare at her. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You think I’m stupid?” Julia screams, and reaches for the mashed potatoes again.

“Don’t you dare,” I threaten.

She ignores me and—squish!—I’m hit near the collarbone.

After that, it’s mayhem. I grab the first thing within my reach on the table—cranberry sauce—and throw it at her. She retaliates with a greenish vegan slop, and we keep going until we’re both panting hard and drenched head to toe in goo.

“Can you tell me why you’re so mad at me, really?” I ask.

“Maybe because I find it strange that a boyfriend no one had ever heard about suddenly appeared the day after I told you I was engaged,” Julia yells, still panting. “And it’s even stranger that he just so happens to look and act exactly like the fantasy man I told you about when I came up to your office!”

“You said you wanted someone dark and mysterious, someone dangerous. I don’t see Diego that way.”