Gathered around the large dining table, the Halidays and guests sat reverently as Lori unpacked the stacks of containers from the plastic bags. Chuck scattered the included plastic utensils across the table, free for everyone’s picking. Paper plates set before each seat, ready to soak up oil.

Lori gingerly lifted a thigh piece from the paper bucket with a knife and fork and placed it on a plate. She couldn’t be asked to lower herself to using disposable plates and utensils, least of all, her fingers. Chuck grabbed a leg, forgoing any cutlery, not even bothering to use a napkin. He ate at the head of the table. Below him was Lady eagerly awaiting crumbs to fall.

Jacob narrowed his eyes at the offerings. “Don’t know if this’ll fly with my trainer.”

“C’mon! It’s Christmas! You don’t get the gift of a cheat week?” snorted Chuck.

“Mom! I said Jacob was following a strict diet.”

Lori scoffed dramatically. “Honey, you told me that weeks ago! I didn’t know he was still on it!”

“It’s fine. I’ll just have the corn,” said Jacob. He huffed and corralled the container of corn in his hands, sliding it toward him.

“If you can’t eat this, how are you going to make it through the rest of the week?” asked Joaquin, lifting his head from a wing piece.

“Well, this is just over the limit. I can have lean meat like turkey breast and some of the sides. But my eyes have truly been opened! Just learning how much fat and cholesterol is in everything—that changes a man! I should forward you all the fact sheet my trainer gave me. Yanno, if you’re interested in a healthier lifestyle.”

“Uh huh,” mumbled Roger between mouthfuls of chicken.

“I’m trying to slim down too!” chimed Melissa.

Gray began, “Mel, you’re not even that overweight. I thought I calculated your BMI with you—”

“It’s healthier to carry a baby at a lower weight,” Melissa interjected.

“It’s supposed to help with conception as well!” added Jacob.

“Not at the table …” Joaquin groaned from the side of his mouth.

Helen choked on a bite of chicken and emitted a coughing laughter into a napkin.

“Ooh, you’re really trying!” Lori awed.

“Absolutely!” Melissa beamed. “Jacob and I feel it’s the right time!”

“Whaddabout you? Eh, Helen? Getting baby fever?” asked Chuck.

Helen paled. “We’re not even engaged yet! I don’t want to fast-forward that far!”

“What do you think, Grandpa? How do grandbabies sound?” Melissa asked with bells in her voice.

“Oh!” Roy leaned away from his plate. He crooned, “Sounds good! Whatever makes you happy, kids.” He continued eating his mashed potatoes.

Melissa gave her cousin a teasing look. “Come on, Helen! Better catch up!”

Helen grimaced and continued working on her drumstick.

“Jamal and I were thinking of adopting once we get married,” said Tom quietly.

“So! You hoping for a boy or girl?” Chuck boomed at his daughter.

“Boy first! So he can be a big brother! Then maybe two little girls.” With wide eyes, Melissa glanced at her parents. “Do twins run in our family?”

Helen rolled her eyes.

Having been ignored, Tom sighed and reached under the dining table to a cooler. He picked out a bottle of imported beer. The kitchen was several steps away, but Chuck always insisted upon having a loaded cooler whenever guests were over. He found it that much more convenient. And in this instance, it certainly was for the guests.

Joaquin piped up. “I heard the more attractive a couple is, the more likely they will give birth to a daughter.”

Lori’s smile widened. “Ooh, then I see plenty of granddaughters in my future!”

Past the crunchy layer of chicken skin, Helen’s mouth wrinkled in disagreement as her eyes flicked to Jacob. But her family would never hear her thoughts.

Chuck turned to Helen’s date. “You want a boy or girl? Eh, Joaquin?”

“Uh …”

“Dad, can you please pass me a beer?” Helen groaned.

A hint of a grin passed over Roger as he reached into the cooler under the table.

“Me too, please,” Joaquin sighed.

The conversation around having children dragged on through dinner, resuscitated every so often by Melissa just when Helen thought they would steer to a different topic. Helen’s mouth mostly kept busy with food rather than with words. Joaquin was equally silent on the matter.

After dinner, the family migrated to the large living room, as was customary during the holidays. The stately flocked Christmas tree centered in the bay windows blinked on with the assistance of a timer. Resplendent with high-quality decorations, golden lights glinted off intricate glass ornaments. Lori was hard-pressed to allow any cheap plastic fare on her tree. It was doubtful any plastic adornment could reflect the string lights as well as the premium glass and crystal. The elegance was only multiplied as visions of the tree echoed in the windowpanes. Lori’s high standards never failed to elevate the seasonal ambience.

With Lady curled at his feet, Grandpa Roy settled into his armchair, the throne of the Haliday Patriarch. Gray made himself comfortable on the chaise part of the sectional and turned on the flat screen hidden behind a framed mirror over the mantle. The vivid screen shone through the silvery glass and the drone of a news program began. Tom sat at the edge of the chaise while Melissa took her husband to the middle. Roger and Iseul sat at the other end, Iseul awkwardly placed in the crook of the sectional. On the remaining part, Chuck sprawled out his thick legs. The only spot left to host Helen and Joaquin was the love seat across from the others.

“So Helen, where’d you two meet?” simpered Melissa, snuggling in closer to Jacob.

Helen sat straighter and cleared her throat. “All right, is everyone here?” She scanned the room, mentally counting her relatives.

Gray began, “I think Mom’s in the ba—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Joaquin snorted softly, mumbling under his breath, “That’s what she said.”

Helen wrinkled her nose.