Mom gave him a purposeful squeeze before examining him at arm’s length. “You actually look presentable. Santa must have read my list. Come on in.”

Zack followed her through the entryway, down a corridor covered in family photos, and into a large kitchen. There were several pots on the stove, all filled with food in various stages of cooking. The walls were painted a buttery green and decorated with oversize cutlery. To the right, an older man and a girl in her late teens were seated at a rectangular wooden table. They had a deck of cards and some poker chips scattered between them.

“Samantha,” Zack said, nodding to the girl, “and Uncle Robert. Long time no see.”

“Zack,” replied Sam. She grinned and stood up. She was athletic and almost as tall as Zack, with a lopsided smile and skin so tan it looked brown. “’Sup, big cuz?”

“Nothing much. You?” Zack set his wine down on the table and gave his cousin a hug. He then stuck his hand out to the middle-aged man sitting across from her. Uncle Robert took it and flashed a grin that matched his daughter’s. “You clean up nice, kid.”

“Thanks. You don’t look half-bad yourself.”

“How about you crack open that wine and play a hand with us?”

Zack agreed and fetched some wineglasses for them before sitting down. He glanced into the living room, but his dad was nowhere to be seen. Zack sighed with relief, though he knew the reprieve was only temporary. Dad was probably in his office. He’d appear as soon as he smelled Nana Gemma’s sauce.

“So, how’s work?” Uncle Robert asked as he dealt out the cards. “You still doing odd jobs around your apartment complex?”

“Yeah,” Zack lied smoothly. He’d told this story so many times, it didn’t even make him nervous anymore. “Mostly just fixing squeaky hinges and leaky sinks. It’s not the most exciting work, but it pays the bills.”

“I hear that.”

“Don’t you encourage him,” Mom called from the stove, pointing a wooden spoon at them. “I still want Zack to go back to school and become something respectable, like a doctor or a lawyer.”

“I think that ship has sailed, Mom.” Zack shrugged. “Well, not sailed so much as sunk to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again. You know, because I’m dumb and stuff.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Mom whipped around.

“You are not dumb,” she hissed. “You’re a perfectly intelligent young man, much as you love to act like you’re not.”

“I reckon that’s true,” Uncle Robert agreed. “Zack here’s smart enough, if you tilt your head and squint. That doesn’t mean he can’t make a good, honest living with his hands, though.”

Zack had to stare at the table to keep from laughing. It was such a shame his family wasn’t the sort you could make sex jokes with.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Can we not start our monthly discussion of Zack and his failures just yet? For once I’d like to get some food in me before I have to listen to another impassioned speech about how he needs to apply himself.”