Dad frowns at Athena, who’s been a statue in the corner by the pantry door for half an hour. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the fan,” I reply, pointing. Mom has a fan going to help with her hot flashes, oscillating back and forth. Athena’s figured out that she looks the most attractive from this particular position, the airstream tossing her hair. The chair she usually claims is empty, since if she were sitting in it her hair would blow all over her face. She won’t put it in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. The last time her hair was in a ponytail, Octavian said that it made her head look small.

“I’m over here because the fan makes it drafty,” she snaps. “But I want to be part of the family conversation, so. It’s fine. I’ll stand over here in the corner, out of the way.” She rubs her hands down her arms.

Felix coughs. “Martyr.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Mom vaults out of her chair. “I didn’t know the fan was bothering you! Here, I’ll shut it off.”

“Aaand, that’s where she gets it,” Grandma murmurs.

Felix, who needs to have menopause spelled out for him, loudly says, “I think the temperature in here is fine. You feeling all right, Mom?”

Marilou scoots her chair closer to me. Leans in. “Hey, you.”

I nudge her shoulder with mine. “Hey.”

“Congratulations on your engagement! Your fiancé’s in the family room doing magic tricks for the kids. They love him. Daisy told him she’s ‘thrilled’ he’s going to be her uncle.” The blood drains from my face. Marilou doesn’t notice. “You picked a good one, Bettie.”

She’s right. I picked such a good one, in fact, that I can’t see myself settling for my old type ever again. I used to be partial to artistic bad boys: brooding, sleep-deprived, tall and lanky. I couldn’t count on getting a text back and was never sure of our status. It was as if they all had magnets that drew me, but those men all look so small and powerless now. What are troubled bass players and up-and-coming actors with ulterior motives compared to the Holiday Spirit?

Hall has been seamlessly ingratiating himself, especially with Grandpa and my parents. If I were actually engaged to him, this would be validating beyond my wildest dreams. I can’t begin to imagine what they’ll think about the guy I do end up marrying, if that ever happens.

It’s just now hitting me that Hall masquerading as my significant other isn’t merely covering up any magic I might want to deploy while visiting my family for the holidays. He’s unwittingly setting a standard, which all men who come after him are going to fall short of. This is the only truly good man I’ve ever introduced to the Watson-Hugheses, which is . . . sad. They’re all going to hate whoever I decide to date after Hall. Hey, remember that happy young man in the wholesome sweaters who did magic tricks for the kids? Why couldn’t you have made it work with that one, Betts? And they’ll say it right in front of my future boyfriend, because tactful they are not.