“Ender dragon.”

“Oh. That’s cool. I like dragons.”

“You don’t know what we’re talking about.” Frangipane rolls his eyes. “This is out of your depth, Felix.” (Felix is his father.)

Hall, finished with his magic show, strides into the room and tells Mom he likes her hair.

Her hair looks the same as always to me, but she glows with pleasure, fluffing it. “I was feeling a bit daring this morning and gave myself a trim. Barely half an inch! I didn’t think anybody would notice.”

Felix rolls his eyes.

“Looks great, I meant to tell you,” Dad cuts in hastily.

Ever the doting fiancé, Hall tells me I’m looking lovely, too, and sweeps by to get cracking on an apple pie. My mother’s in love with his apple pies. “I can’t wait to have you in the family,” she gushes to him, drawing his hand between hers. “I’ll finally have someone to bake with. None of my children have ever shown any interest.”

A squeak sticks in my throat. I can’t open my mouth, staring awkwardly at nothing. It’s as if Marilou’s congratulations have made it all real, and until now, my family thought we were only playacting. They didn’t pepper Hall and me with questions about our big day, or if I wanted A-line, mermaid, or ball gown.

“Magic tricks,” Felix heckles from out of nowhere. “What is he, twelve?”

“You shut your mouth,” I return with a violence no one expects, judging by the looks on all their faces.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Hall tells him, mellow as a field of spring flowers.

Felix laughs without humor. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what?” I lean forward, burning holes into his eyes with my focus. “Texting? Sending someone pictures of my personal life?”

“Easy,” he growls.

“You managing to find somebody’s nine of diamonds in a deck of cards would be the single most remarkable thing you’ve ever done.”

“Bettie,” Hall warns gently. The warm, deep grumble of his tone makes the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end, not unpleasantly so.

“If you don’t like card tricks,” Hall tells Felix, “I’ve got a cup game, too, where you find out which one’s hiding the Ping-Pong ball. And then this, which is my favorite.” He holds out his hands, showing us that they’re empty. Then he claps, and the cheap black wand from his David Copperfield kit appears between them. “Watch.” He taps the wand against a cupboard door where salad bowls are kept, then opens the door. Pulls out a pineapple. “Ta-dah!”

When only two people clap, he settles a fist on his hip. “Did the rest of you see? It’s a pineapple!” He holds it aloft like a trophy. “I made it appear in the cupboard with this magic wand! I didn’t even use . . . other . . . methods.”

Felix leans back in his chair, doing his best to convey boredom. “Don’t quit your day job.”

Hall’s eyes tighten to snappish red hots, and he is very likely about to shoot back a retort about his day job literally being magic production when Mom cuts in. “Let’s go sit somewhere else,” she suggests. “The oven makes it so hot in here, plus all the body heat. The heat is making us grumpy.” Dad gets up, turns the fan back on. She tosses him a reproving look, but I can tell she’s secretly grateful. He runs his fingers through her hair briefly while passing behind her.