I groaned and flopped onto the couch. I’d never gone to a Christmas Eve church thing before. I was inclined to forget it, but on the other hand I felt like I ought to humor Jane and her family as a way of showing my appreciation for their hospitality. Then again, it might actually be enjoyable to sing some Christmas carols and be around people who really love the holiday.

But I had to admit, the whole idea of church made me nervous. I didn’t have anything against religious people, no matter what they believed—except for the pushy ones; I didn’t care for them much. But all the gods, all the rules, all the heavens and hells and in-between places, all the ideas—they all conflicted, they never made sense. How could you know if you were right or not? It seemed like one big gamble, and regardless of where you put your money, chances are you were going to lose. If it helped you be a better person, then I figured it was okay; I just didn’t think I needed it to be good. I had enough self-discipline.

I waffled, weighing the pros and cons, and then decided, finally, to go—but only because I didn’t want to ruin my chances of becoming friends with Missy. I called Jane and got directions, and she described a place for us to meet. I had a pretty good idea where the church was, but I wanted to leave myself plenty of time to get lost. I arrived ten minutes early, and after finding a parking spot and wandering a bit, I found the place where Jane had told me to meet them. I stood and watched people coming in, humming along with the Christmas music that was floating out of the building. Not long after, I spotted Jane and Missy, along with Mr. Upton and Missy’s younger brother.

“Merry Christmas, Grace!” Jane said, throwing her arm around my shoulder in a friendly hug. “This is my husband, Simon, and our son, David.” We all shook hands and exchanged hellos before Mr. Upton ushered us into the building. Missy and I walked down together behind the rest of the family and followed them into a row of chairs.