Joaquin’s lips quirked into a lop-sided smile. Helen put on the coat. After his kind gesture, much of the ire had left her body and she was beginning to feel the chill again. His jacket was warm, and felt like an awkward embrace.

He nodded to the tray of food. “Now that you won’t get cold, let’s not allow the food to either!”

“Oh! I thought this food was all for you!”

“I bought it for both of us, silly,” said Joaquin. He turned to Tom. “And Tom’s welcome to it as well!”

“Gosh! I was looking at the tater tots earlier. If I may?”

Joaquin spread his arms over the array of paper containers. “Be my guest!”

Helen partook in some fried chicken and fried green tomatoes while Joaquin claimed most of the ribs. Tom was quite happy with his poutin-style tater tots; half of the whole portion went to him. After much of the meal was consumed, Iseul and Roger came upon the table.

“Look what I got!” Roger yipped with the glee of a child. He held up a plank of wood with ‘The Halidays’ burned into the surface. Iseul rolled her eyes, remiss to allow such a tacky thing into their home. However, her husband’s joy was worth it and a smile played on her lips.

“That’s neat, Dad,” said Helen. “You and Ma want something to eat?”

“We shared a bag of donuts while we waited for the sign to be made,” Iseul explained. She then noticed the rumpled sweater on the table. “Helen! What happened?”

“Tom can explain,” huffed Helen. Losing her appetite, she stood up from the table. Feet heavy with the mere thought of skates, she trudged along the wall of the rink. She stared out over the ice, a sea of people whizzing past her vision. She caught sight of the familiar teenaged backs. The wrath bubbled in her belly.

“Which kids were they?”

Helen startled. Joaquin had followed her unnoticed. His calm expression quelled her once more. Taking a deep breath, she pointed with her chin. “Those boys there, in the hockey jerseys.”

Joaquin stepped past her toward the rink entrance. Helen then saw the ice skates on his feet. She wondered when he had gotten them and put them on.

Joaquin glided onto the ice as smoothly as any professional. He was one of the least bundled figures, making him easier to track for Helen. Hunching over, he made long strides, gaining speed. He wove between people with the ease of a fish slipping between rocks. After one full circumnavigation of the rink, Joaquin hunched even closer to the ice. Neck stiff, body low, eyes focused. He honed in on his targets.

At the far end of the rink, Helen dug her elbows into the padded top of the rink wall. She held a hand over her mouth as she watched Joaquin, a bulky torpedo, barrel right through the group of teens. He sent them skittering over the ice amid a flurry of exclamations and swears. As the other skaters in the rink slowed to a stop or hobbled over the felled teens, Joaquin glanced at the pile over his shoulder. He smiled.

“Oops, sorry! It was an accident.”

Helen broke out laughing.

“Joaquin, man! You really gotta be more careful!” Jacob said, approaching the man on his way to the rink egress. Melissa clung onto her husband, expression still one of shock over the barbarism on ice.

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve skated. I’ll see myself out!” Joaquin’s blades left the hard ice for softer ground, having completed their duty.

Helen ran up to Joaquin, locking her eyes with his. While onlookers and passersby stared or sneered at the man’s impetuousness, Helen’s gaze was filled with gratitude and mirth.

“No one’s ever done something like that for me! Thank you!” She patted his arm, though she wanted to give him a hug. Ultimately, she concluded it would be best to avoid stoking a hero complex in her temporary employee.

“Ooh! Is this our gift this year?” Chuck boomed. He eyed the sign in Roger’s arms. The father and son had completed their quest in winning a few stuffed animals. Their prizes were contained in a net and slung over the youth’s back like freshly hunted game. It seemed Gray’s arm was in fine working order.

Roger shirked the piece of wood away from his brother. “Get your own sign!”

“But it’s got my name right on it!” A punch-worthy grin split under Chuck’s mustache.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a knuckle sandwich with your full name on it,” Roger growled.

Coming back in time to diffuse her unwieldy husband, Lori slapped a tray of pie slices upon the table. Iseul withdrew Helen’s soiled sweater before it felt the wrath of the hard plastic.

“Get along, boys!” Lori clucked. “It’s Christmas Eve for goodness sake!”

“Is there a gluten-free pie in there by any chance?” asked Jacob.

“Hell, Jacob. Carry a granola bar in your purse if you have to,” Chuck snorted. His focus immediately retreated from Roger’s new plaque.

Jacob smiled and cleared his throat. “Actually, granola is very much a glu—”

“Hand me that chocolate slice, will ya, Lor?” asked Chuck, reaching across the table. His wife obliged.

As Joaquin welcomed the other Halidays to the remainder of the food he bought and cider and pie slices were shared, Helen sighed at the thought of the remaining hours on the farm with her family. It was very likely it would consist of continual back-and-forths like this. Her head dipped into the warmth of the jacket enveloping her. She spent a brief moment nuzzling into the fabric before she glanced at Joaquin.

“You aren’t too cold, are you?” Helen asked.

His gaze slid to his employer. “Nah. I got food in me, I’m burning it like a furnace.” He smiled.

“Well, okay. Just let me know if you want your jacket back.”

“Heh, will do.” Joaquin gave her a little nod.

A small flash of warmth bloomed in Helen’s cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was the delayed effect of the jacket or the effect of Joaquin’s kind face.

After everyone had their fill of food, drink, and the ice rink, the Halidays collected for a hayride. Because of their sheer numbers, the combined family had to wait until a whole trailer was free to accommodate the single party. They had to wait over half an hour. The standing, the itchy hay, the unspectacular views, the expectant looks from Melissa as Helen and Joaquin squished side by side, it was hardly worth it.

“Well, that was fun!” Gray simpered, brushing bits of hay from his pants. His sarcasm was lost on his parents.

“I’m glad you still enjoy it even after so many years!” Lori checked her smart watch. “Oh, look at the time! We should get home and start prepping dinner!”

The family gathered themselves and headed for the egress. The noise and color of the stalls and decorations fled past Helen as she hurried between the throng of people. The decked-out farm was nice, but it was also a bit suffocating. As the sun dipped, more guests came in search of wintry lights and atmospheric photo-ops perfectly manufactured to appeal to the masses. Helen felt herself yearning for the breathing space the square footage of her aunt and uncle’s house offered.

They passed beneath the arch and Melissa bade farewell to the seasonal distraction in juvenile fashion. A hint of sadness colored her voice. She, like all the other guests filing in, wished to see the full effect of all the decorations at night.

Still bundled in Joaquin’s jacket, Helen dug into the extra-long sleeve to tug at the paper wristband on her arm. She noticed a plastic bag swinging by her mother’s side. It held her soiled sweater. Always a mother, ever prepared with a surplus of plastic bags and napkins in her purse.

Helen’s extended family picked up their pace, leading ahead, as they were parked further. Lady bounded after Gray who broke into a skip to engage the dog.

“All right, we got everyone?” Chuck huffed as his sneakered feet dragged across the gravel toward the car lot.

“We have everyone for our car,” said Iseul from behind.

Roger quickly scanned the figures bunched in front of him.

“Oh shit! DAD!” Roger ran back to the entrance.