I arrived at the Uptons’ house at one the next day, bearing my candle gift and nothing else. I’d contemplated bringing a bottle of wine, but I didn’t have the money to buy something really good, and I didn’t want to give them something lousy. Plus I knew drinking was a touchy thing with religious people, and I didn’t want to offend them.

Jane greeted me with another hug and directed me into the family room at the back of the house. There was a huge tree there, decorated with multicolored lights and tons of ornaments, with gifts piled beneath it. I added mine to the pile and moved to the couch where Missy was sitting. I could see Mr. Upton—Simon—and David in the backyard, fussing over the barbecue grill.

“Well, I’m sorry,” I said, “but it definitely does not feel like Christmas to me. No snow, no windchill factor, no need for a fire in the fireplace … ”

“Ah yes, but after dinner we can go to the beach, or go for a walk, or open our presents out on the patio if we want to.”

I made a face, mentally weighing the two options. “I don’t know … I guess its up to you all to convince me that this is acceptable Christmas activity.”

Jane brought over a glass of eggnog for me. “Dinner should be ready in a few minutes; the grill wasn’t cooperating.”

I gaped. “You barbecue at Christmas? This is insane!”

Jane laughed. “Not quite as popular back home?”

“Well, seeing as you’d have to dig your grill out of a snowdrift.

“Ah, good point.” She chuckled. “Its a different world out here, that’s for sure.”

Missy took me on the grand tour of their gorgeous home, and we ended outside on the spacious patio. “It’s so warm out here that I keep thinking we’re celebrating Memorial Day and not Christmas. We could eat out here; it’s so nice.”

Missy snickered. “I think we will, actually.”

Jane, as if on cue, burst through the door carrying a tray of food. “Missy, can you help me bring things out?” she asked as she laid the tray on the side bar next to the grill. “Oh nuts, I forgot to set the table out here.”

“Oh, let me, Jane. I have to do something to earn my meal.”

She grinned. “Oh, all right—but only because neither of the boys would have any clue what goes where.” I followed her inside to collect the goods, and then set the table as Missy and Jane went back and forth from yard to kitchen, bringing more and more food every time. I didn’t know how we’d eat it all.