“Dylan and Andrew’s duet is a tradition,” Katherine says, and her declaration is final in this and in all things. Meemaw’s request is forgotten as Andrew rises from the ottoman and slides his body onto the piano bench. He sits behind the keys like he was born there. Dylan rubs the back of their neck with the hand not gripping their guitar.

“Eh, are you sure—?” They shoot me a look. “I mean, it is a tradition, but… you don’t mind if we—”

I wave a hand and take a gulp of my sangria. If my fake fiancé wants to serenade his secret ex in front of his family members, who am I to protest?

Dylan pulls a chair up beside Andrew on the piano bench. They both look stiff and uncomfortable with the new proximity, but then Andrew begins playing the opening notes of a song, and all the awkwardness between them dissolves.

The song in question is “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” and while I have a number of issues with this choice, I forget most of them as Dylan begins to strum their guitar. Then Andrew’s voice lifts over the instruments, and I fall in love with this stupid song. I can’t help myself. Andrew’s voice is rich molasses, turning the first line of the song into something luscious and sweet. When Dylan responds with a “but baby it’s cold outside,” it blends perfectly with Andrew’s. Their voices circle and cross each other in flawless harmony.

On the couch, Meemaw films on her phone, Lovey waves a lighter, and Katherine beams with pride. My gaze finds Jack across the living room, leaning against the fireplace mantel instead of sitting with the rest of us. She smiles crookedly as she watches her brother and her best friend sing this practiced duet.

When Andrew and Dylan’s voices braid together for the final “oh, but it’s cold outside,” Jack puts two fingers into her mouth and whistles. Andrew turns around on the piano bench, smiling almost shyly. Dylan puts their guitar aside and rubs the back of their neck again, pointedly not looking at Andrew. Andrew is very pointedly looking at Dylan.

For some reason, Meemaw is pointedly looking at me.

“Jack, take over,” Andrew says as he climbs up. “I’m going to make us some real holiday cocktails.”

Apparently, both siblings took twelve years of piano lessons, so Jack folds her large frame behind the piano while Andrew goes back into the kitchen. Meemaw sings next and performs a raunchy, off-key rendition of “Santa Baby,” then a stoned Lovey performs “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” making me laugh so hard sangria actually shoots out of my nose. Andrew finally brings out a tray of drinks in time for Katherine to go stand beside the piano while Jack plays “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” from the sheet music in front of her.