The next morning started off peacefully around the dining table, as it should, it was Christmas Eve Day. Tom had woken up early to make pancakes for everyone with Lori coming in to help at the end. She handled the whipped cream, spraying a dollop on the rim of each plate. Chuck and Roger were enrapt by the paper. Iseul chatted with Melissa and Jacob about their current house hunt. Gray talked sports with Joaquin who had already changed into his day clothes. And quietly taking it all in was Helen. She was just happy things were going well.

“Everyone eat up! Can’t have a good start to the day without breakfast!” Tom began setting plates of pancakes before each seat at the dining table.

Flapping the newspaper closed, Chuck snorted. “Hell, Tom. You could have just piled them all into one of Lori’s platters and we could serve ourselves!”

Tom scoffed. “We’re not animals, Chuck. I will not serve guests from a trough.”

A clatter of flatware announced the meal’s commencement. Chuck squeezed a bottle of syrup, blasting his stack with plastic flatulence. The Haliday men noisily scarfed down their first bites of pancake. Melissa smacked her lips of whipped cream and berry sauce, attempting to mind her lipstick. Tom sighed.

“These are delicious, Tom. Thanks for cooking,” said Joaquin, the first load in his mouth half-swallowed.

Tom smiled as he folded a napkin over his lap before enjoying the fruits of his labor. “Thank you, Joaquin. The recipe is Jamal’s.”

“Send him my regards!” Helen chimed. She wasn’t a breakfast person, but these pancakes won her over for the day. Perhaps it was a bright sign of things to come.

Then Grandpa Roy shuffled into the dining room.

“Just in time for breakfast Da—” Roger began.

“Stranger! He’s a stranger!” shouted Roy, an accusing finger shoved at Joaquin’s arm. “WHO are you?”

Helen rose from her seat to steady the old man. “Oh, Grandpa! Perhaps your memory slipped. Joaquin’s my boyfriend, remember?”

“No! I overheard you last night saying you were worried about having us fooled!”

Helen gave her sweetest smile and chuckled. “Don’t be silly, Grandpa!” Behind her mask of a face, cracks formed in her brain, screaming an alarm that this was all about to fall apart. She tried her hardest to not break into a cold sweat, willing her pores to cinch and keep the moisture in.

“Dad, you take your meds yet?” asked Chuck, glancing up from his plate.

“I … could have sworn …”

“Perhaps you were dreaming …” Helen said, rubbing his bony shoulder.

“I-it was rather late I reckon …” mumbled the old man. He sat down to his awaiting plate of pancakes. Lori slid him a mug of hot coffee.

“Didn’t Gray leave on the real crime channel when we went to bed?” Melissa supplied. “Maybe Grandpa was just listening to the TV and mixed up his memories.”

“I’ll double-check his pill case before we go,” said Roger, sipping his coffee.

“We’re going somewhere?” Joaquin asked.

“Christmas Eve Day we usually go to a local farm,” explained Helen. ”They set up an ice rink, food and craft stalls, offer hayrides … it’s pretty fun.”

“For those who enjoy those kinds of things,” Iseul added dryly.

Par for the course, Iseul’s comment went ignored. The Halidays continued to chat casually as they worked on dismantling their stacks of pancakes. The encroaching outing injected a bit of haste into their consumption.

After breakfast, everyone dispersed to finish their morning routines. Helen showered and changed into an outfit that would keep her warm while looking just good enough for photos, as Melissa would surely insist upon them. In the brief reprieve before they had to collect for the outing, she flopped onto the couch in the memory den.

“Great. I gaslighted my own grandfather. I’m definitely going to Hell.”

“No harm, no foul,” said Joaquin, taking a seat beside her to put on a pair of woolen socks.

“I’m a terrible person.”

“Well, if you are going to hell, at least I’ll have good company.”

Helen peered at Joaquin through her bangs. He had on a small smile, an honest parabola. She reflected the grin.

The sound of bodies migrating to the foyer and garage entrance signaled it was time to go. Helen left the memory den with Joaquin. The morning light streaming through the tall windows in the foyer heightened her current mood to a near dream state. Joaquin was behaving, her family seemed to like him, and the ploy was in effect. For a brief moment as she glanced at Joaquin showered under an angelic beam birthed from double-paned glass, she lapsed into a sense of immersion. Perhaps this was what it was like to have a boyfriend for the holidays. It was a pleasant feeling. But before the sensation tempted her further, Helen stamped her socked feet on the icy tiled floor and crouched forward to pull on her boots.

“All right! You got the directions to the farm, Roger?” asked Chuck, tugging on a cap with earflaps.

His brother nodded. “Helen will pull up the directions on her phone.”

“We’ll see you there!” Lori twittered. “Take care of my baby!”

Lady woofed softly as Helen guided the dog out the front door following Iseul and Roger.

The family split off to their respective vehicles. Chuck and Lori drove their full-size SUV with Roy, Tom, Gray, Melissa, and Jacob loaded into the back. Roger and Iseul took their sedan with Helen and Joaquin, Lady seated between them. While her doggy pad was currently in the wash, Lori did not want Lady on the premium leather of the SUV and so allowed her precious spaniel to travel economy class in the sedan. Lady did not mind, she liked Helen and had taken a shine to Joaquin.

Hitting the road to the soundtrack of lite rock, Helen relaxed into the beaten cloth seat. Her gaze drifted between her mother and father, the back of their heads looking grayer than she last remembered. Joaquin, a dog away, looked a little cramped in the backseat. Not that he was particularly tall or wide, his bulky jacket took up much of the elbowroom on his side. Lady was not a particularly small dog either, and Helen found herself slightly pressed to her door by the sitting, furred passenger. They were packed as tightly as sardines, but they were warm at least.

Feeling uneasy from the shaking car, Lady whined. She padded in a tight circle, slapping Helen’s face with her tail before lying down and resting her head on the young woman’s lap. As an apology for her manners, Lady licked Helen’s hand.

Ignoring the backseat antics, Roger sniffed as he stared ahead at the road. “So …”

Helen held her breath. Her father could ask any number of things. And trapped within an enclosed space, there was no escape from his queries.

“What interests you in Helen?”

“Dad!” Helen whined.

Joaquin cleared his throat, fingers flexing upon his denim-clad thigh. “She and I just get along some sort of way.”

A moment passed. In Helen’s mind, the silence filled with her own drumming heart.

Roger nodded as he eyed the rearview mirror. “A humble response. I like you.”

Helen wheezed a sigh of relief through her nostrils. Her eyes flashed to her father.

“I’m just glad Helen’s found someone nice.” His voice reflected the wrinkles and uneven skin of his face thanks to years of smoking. Though he quit several years ago when Helen graduated from high school. “Growing up she had a hard time making friends. Not only was she shy—”

Helen groaned and shifted toward the window.

“But where we were living … there weren’t many Asians at the time.”

Iseul spoke up. “I remember when Helen began asking me to make her sandwiches for school lunch. Apparently leftover japchae and dubujeon was too controversial.”

“The kids said my tteokbokki were—and I quote—’pee-pees’,” griped Helen.

Joaquin stifled a laugh.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Kids are so uncultured.”

“Hey, I ended up getting those leftovers! Worked out for me!” Roger chuckled softly.

Joaquin rubbed his thumb. His eyes drifted to the steering wheel. “May I ask how you and Iseul met?”

A smile widened the space between Roger’s jowls. “I was on a job in the city. Iseul was working at a flower shop down the block. The shop was across the street from a deli that I’d often get lunch at. So when I would sit at the counter, eating my pastrami, I’d watch her assisting the florist.” His eyes softened. “Then when construction was wrapping up, I swallowed my nerve and went in. I bought a flower from her. And gave it to the prettiest gal in the store with a proposition for a date.”

“So cheesy,” Iseul commented, a slight smile bending her lips.

“Damn, it’s like straight out of a romance movie!” Joaquin awed.

Helen smirked. “We should get the rights to make one.”

“Who knew a gruff guy like you would be such a romantic!”

“The trick, Joaquin, is to save it for special moments! Otherwise it wouldn’t be so special, now, would it?” Roger winked into the rearview mirror.

“I don’t care if he’s romantic or not. I just want him to pick up his clothes from the floor,” grumbled Iseul.

Chuckling, Roger rested his hand over his wife’s and gave it a squeeze. Helen noticed that her mother squeezed back. She liked what they had. It was nice.