Lulls in conversation were rare as there was always a voice to contribute given the size of the gathering and the size of many of their mouths. The kitchen island remained a hub, though a few members spread out. Iseul had migrated to the breakfast nook, making herself comfortable on the curved upholstered bench.

Beside her, they had situated Grandpa Roy with a dish of peanuts that he happily shelled. Next to the old man was Helen. She enjoyed shelling peanuts alongside him. It was a long-lived memory from childhood. The peanuts weren’t bad either. Joaquin sat by her side on a damask chair, which matched the fabric of the bench, as Lori would have it. Occupying the other chair was Roger who had pulled it away from the nook to straddle the space between his family and his brother’s, contributing to both sides of conversation.

Joaquin patted his stomach, rousing a rumble from it. He asked Helen from the side of his mouth, “What’s the dinner situation?”

“Hungry, are we?” Chuck rubbed his mustache, taking out a two-liter bottle of root beer from the fridge. His hand dug into his pocket for his phone. The battered thing emerged, case dented, screen cracked. His thick thumb tapped and swiped. Chuck grumbled. “Gray, you figure this out.” He slammed it on the counter in front of his son.

With a tap more on the screen, Gray lifted his head. “All right, everyone. The app says our order is on its way!” he announced. “ETA twenty minutes!” He tossed his father’s phone back into his hands.

“I guess everyone can take the time to get ready for dinner now!” Lori sang. “Roger and Iseul, you two will stay in the guest bedroom. Helen and Joaquin, you guys get the den.”

“I’ll move our luggage and wash up for dinner,” said Iseul, shuffling off of the bench.

“Oh, I’ll help you, Ma.”

Vacating the dining room of luggage for the meal to come, Iseul and Helen took a bag in each hand. Traversing the hallway past the living room, they stopped by the den first, as it was on the ground floor. Helen quickly opened the door and scooted her and Joaquin’s things inside the dark cavern. She then grabbed the other bag in her mother’s hand to share the burden and the two headed upstairs.

Reaching the top landing, Iseul peered over the railing at the ground floor below. Helen trudged on ahead. As they reached the door to the guest room, Iseul paused her daughter.

Despite not seeing any family members near the stairs, she spoke in low tones. “Why did you not tell us about him until a few days ago?”

“Ma, I’m an adult … do you have to know every aspect of my life?” Helen replied as she opened the bedroom door.

“I just thought we were closer than that. I know we used to be.”

Helen squinted, an involuntary response to cinch away a bag of marbled tears that were sure to spill if she didn’t check herself. She always got this way whenever her parents reminisced about the years past. There was something about the nostalgia. She was happier then.

“I’m sorry …” Helen sniffed. The two hauled the bags to the foot of the bed. “I guess I was scared of what you and Dad would think of him.”

“Why? He seems like a good man.”

“I dunno. You just have expectations sometimes. My job isn’t that great. And you always said I could fall back on finding a doctor or a tech wizard to marry …”

“Oh, Helen, I was joking!” Iseul sighed. She rubbed her daughter’s arm, restrained. The woman would never allow herself to hug anyone unless circumstances were dire. She led her back into the light of the hallway.

“I dunno.” Helen wrinkled her lips into a half-smile. “I heard through the grapevine that you’ve talked about past people I’ve dated with your friends.” She patted her mother’s shoulder. “I can’t give you information that I know will be leaked!”

“You know why I talk? Maybe my friends have nice boys for you to meet!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Ma.” Helen lips stretched into a full grin. “But I can’t be dependent on your help my whole life.”

“Ah, my girl is growing up.” Iseul gifted her a warm look that nearly shook the tears free from Helen’s eyes.

Refusing to fall into a cycle of sentimentality, Helen pressed onward to the stairs. The jostling of her feet down the steps shook away the lingering feelings, and she steeled herself for a night with her family.

When Helen returned downstairs, Joaquin met her by the fridge.

“Sorry, I should have probably helped you with the luggage,” he whispered.

Helen smiled and brushed her bangs. “It’s okay. I got to spend a nice minute with my mom.”

“It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.”

She nudged his side. “Don’t worry! I just need a boyfriend, not a suck-up.”

For tonight’s meal, Chuck had ordered an extra-large family dinner from a chain fried chicken restaurant. The night before Christmas Eve, the Halidays always had some sort of fast food since the next two nights’ dinners would be laborious undertakings. It was a way for the adults to cut loose and kick back before the hard work, and the children never complained. To this day, Helen still enjoyed the greasy indulgence.