He’s an idiot sixty percent of the time. He messes up constantly, like I do, like we all do, but I study his happy, animated face and you know, I think I might have a soft spot for that idiot under all the annoyance.

The soft spot firms up with a quickness, though, when Felix tricks me into thinking he hurt his knee, limping, only to knock me down with a snowball the size of my head. He pulls the same stunt on Mom, who rushes over to help him only to receive a cold white splat to her hip. When he comes for Athena, however, my older sister has no compassion and blasts him right in the gut. Then she makes sure no one can retaliate by shouting that she might be pregnant. Sean locks himself inside his car for half an hour, forehead against the steering wheel, sobbing. He doesn’t get out until she admits she lied.

Minnesota Moon pelts Grandma, who isn’t as spry as she used to be. She’s a tall woman wearing all black, a stark contrast against the snow, which puts her at a disadvantage in this game. “I’ve got you covered, Grandma!” I cry, running up behind Minnesota Moon. I grab her, hefting her over my shoulder. I zigzag through the yard, tackling children, delighting in their shrieks. Hall grins from the sidelines. I’m struck by a long-ago memory of Grandma playing with us when we were little, too. I only remember one time in the winter—she dragged us in a long wooden sled from the back of the house over toward the woodpile. Athena tipped over the side when Grandma went too fast, knocking out a loose baby tooth. The tooth fairy brought her a guilt-ridden eighty dollars that night, which she spent at Rocky Road Ice Cream Parlor. She bought Felix, Kaia, and me ice cream cones every day for the rest of the visit.

Hall strolls over to me, wearing the smile he dons whenever he’s feeling particularly pleased with himself, and I automatically smile back at him.

“What?”

He observes the air around me. “Your happiness meter has been climbing higher by the day. When I walked over to you just now, it went up another notch.”

“It did not.”

“It did so, and that is because you’re happy to be around me, which you shouldn’t be embarrassed about. You can’t see my happiness meter, but if you did, you’d see it’s bursting through the roof.” He wriggles his fingers, miming an explosion. “Wires and sprockets everywhere.”

My lips twist. “You’ve been hiding from the carnage you provoked.”

His mouth flattens as he cuts the house a long, world-weary frown. “I got sidetracked talking to Kaia about her custom of ending relationships out of fear, even when she still loves the person.”

I stare at him wonderingly. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”

“Have you listened to her singing lately? Somber love songs. The closer we get to Christmas, the more somber she gets. Sometimes, people don’t know how to healthily communicate, so the requests end up coming out backwards or sideways or invisible. Sometimes, people could use a hug, but they ask for it by halfheartedly flinging a snowball at your face.”