“Angela,” his father says, pulling her back. “Give the man some space.” They move away from the door, and we step in. Mark closes the door behind us.

“Hello,” I say to them and lean in to kiss his mother’s cheek and then to his father. “Thank you so much for having me.”

“Mom, Dad,” Mark says, putting his arm around my waist. “I know you’ve met through FaceTime, but this is Vivienne.” He smiles like I’ve never seen him smile before, and he even puffs out his chest. “Vivienne, this is my dad, Angela, and Yanni.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” I say to them.

“Look at how pretty she is,” Angela says to Yanni. “She glows.” She smiles, and I want to crawl into a hole, but I’m saved by the doorbell. I move to the side, and just like that, more people arrive.

“Here we go,” Mark says from beside me, and he was not kidding. I thought Matthew’s family was nuts. Well, Mark’s trumps Matthew’s. His aunts come in with enough food to feed a hundred people. His cousins all come in to say hello.

By the time everyone left, I was helping Mark clean up. His mother came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “No, stop doing that. Come sit down and have a coffee,” she says softly, and I’m about to answer her when the front door opens.

“Is there anyone left in this town who didn’t come over today?” I ask Mark while I throw away another plate with food on it.

“I’m home,” a man says, and then Angela’s eyes light up.

“Christo,” she says, walking toward the door.

“My brother is here,” he says, and a second later, his brother walks into the room. If I didn’t know Mark like I do, I would say they are twins, but Mark’s eyes light up just a touch browner than his brother.

“Well, well, well,” Chris says, coming into the room. “He finally brought you out in the open,” he says, kissing my cheeks, but not for too long because Mark comes over and pushes him away, making us both laugh.

“I saved you a plate,” Angela says, and Yanni comes into the room, and he slaps his hands together.

“Aha, now the family is all here,” he says, walking over to his son and grabbing him by the cheek. “You good?”

“He’s fine,” Mark says from behind me; his hand on my hip. “Go eat, little baby,” he says. Chris looks at him and waits for his parents to turn around before giving him the finger.

“Why don’t you go sit down with them, and I’m going to get these dishes in the dishwasher, and then we can go so I can give you my early Christmas gift?” I tell him, and he just smiles at me.