After dinner, the family congregated in the living room. Tradition dictated that they sing Christmas songs and employ the piano for a few hours. Gray turned on the fireplace and turned on the TV to a channel that displayed a burning log for double the ambiance.

“This tuned?” asked Joaquin, sauntering over to the upright piano on the near wall.

“Yeah. Don’t know why we keep it up, though! Melissa moved out long ago,” Chuck chortled.

Lori cleared her throat. “It’s to keep it in good condition for Christmases.”

Helen tilted her head. As she recalled, the piano tuner was a very attractive man and she had spied him flirting with Lori years ago.

“C’mon, Mel. Let’s hear you tickle those ivories,” said Chuck.

“Oh, I don’t know … I may have had a bit too much wine at dinner,” Melissa said with a giggle before bumping her head to Jacob’s shoulder.

Joaquin sat upon the bench. His fingers swept across the keys before tapping out a lilting melody.

“Joaquin!” Helen exclaimed, “You play so well!”

“My mom taught me initially. Then throughout high school, I spent my free time with the music teacher. Didn’t get along with the other kids,” Joaquin explained from the side of his mouth.

“So I take it you can read sheet music?” Lori asked.

“Sure can.”

She moved to a magazine rack next to the piano and lifted a couple of books. “Would it be too much to ask for some songs from our carol collection?”

“Not at all. I’m the guest. I ought to contribute something to the celebration.”

Joaquin passed his hands effortlessly over the keys, fingers frolicking to the sound of classic carols. Helen was a bit taken aback. She had no idea Joaquin was this talented. More so, his talents roused everyone into an enthusiastic row singing along together. Even Iseul swayed with the music and mouthed the words. Few were in tune, but the Christmas spirit ran strong and the men especially belted out the carols. Perhaps they were a little drunk as well. At least they were happy.

There was something about Joaquin behind the keys. Helen never pictured someone relatively reserved like him leading such a production. All of her family followed without question. There were no retorts, no jabs, just harmony. Joaquin was a pied piper broadcasting Christmas carols, ensnaring Halidays, leading them to behave. She stared at him in admiration.

As the night waned, Joaquin closed his performance with Silent Night. His voice was so restrained, barely a rasp, it cajoled the other participants into a diminuendo as well. Helen never thought she would hear Chuck utter anything this quietly.

The hum from everyone’s reserved tones seemed almost professional, like something one would hear from a tabernacle choir. Quiet, measured, and humble, this was something Helen thought unattainable for her extended family. She wasn’t sure if this or Joaquin’s talent impressed her more.

A silent moment passed after the last key sounded. Jacob began to slowly clap. The others joined in the accolade.

“That was something, Joaquin!” Tom awed.

Joaquin cleared his throat and smiled. “Oh, thanks!”

“Great night of entertainment!” Roger said. “You really got talent.”

“Jeez! We’ll have to invite you back every year! I can’t compare with my fat fingers,” Melissa said.

Gray yawned audibly. “Woo, I didn’t realize we’ve been here for so long.”

“Everyone get to bed! Christmas is coming!” Lori sang. Despite all the children being legal adults now, they would forever be little in her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom. We wouldn’t want to accidentally catch Santa coming down our chimney …” Gray rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Hurry up!” Lori grabbed one of many decorative pillows off the sectional and playfully smacked her son’s gut with it.

Iseul rose from the couch. Her husband understood the cue. “All right, we’ll see everyone in the morning,” said Roger, standing up. “Come on, Dad, I’ll see you to bed. Don’t wanna get in Santa’s way.” He patiently helped Roy out of the armchair.

“Oh, don’t you know?” Grandpa Roy chuckled. “He and I go way back.”

“Oof, okay.” Helen escaped the plush confines of the couch. “Good night, everyone.”

Joaquin pushed away from the piano. The Halidays vacated the living room, the evening performance closed with no encore. Lori shut off the theater lights. The big show would come in several hours.

“Wow, I had no idea you were so talented,” said Helen as they stepped down the hallway to their room.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve too.”

Helen giggled. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I can’t say that I do.”

“Nah. Maybe you just haven’t found it yet.” Joaquin opened the door for her. “You could be really good at juggling or unicycling or something.”

Helen quirked an eyebrow. “Juggling? Unicycling? Really?”

“Well,” he said as he smiled at her, “you won’t ever know until you jump and try.”

Jump and try. For a brief moment, Helen wondered what it was like to date Joaquin for real. She quickly shooed the thought away as she entered the memory den and slumped onto the couch. Joaquin gathered his things for his nightly routine. A small part of Helen was eager to enter the bathroom after him, to relish in the lingering heat his shower would produce. Waiting in anticipation, she scrolled through her phone. There was a second update request from Desta, and Helen replied, this time with two boats.

The fallout of warmth from the shower lured Helen into a complacent peace as she brushed her teeth. When she returned to the memory den, the cold bit her from all sides. Joaquin was already bundled under his blanket atop the air mattress, his short hair nearly dry. Helen tried her best to get comfortable, stuffing her blanket between her and her temporary bed. She should have brought long-sleeve pajamas and sweatpants.

“God damn it’s cold in here! You’d think with all their money they could afford to replace these windows with double-panes,” uttered Helen between clacking teeth. She cursed the frigid leather couch under her breath.

“It’s warmer over here,” said Joaquin, peeking slightly over his shoulder. Her gaze drifted to the man’s form carved from the glow of the nightlight, his back still turned to her.

“I really don’t want to intru—”

“‘S all right! We’re in our jammies. We’ll keep it clean.”

Helen swallowed and rose from the couch. “A-are you sure, Joaquin?”

He shifted to meet her eyes. “I don’t want you feelin’ like shit from a bad night’s sleep. You want the best Christmas, right? Come where it’s warm.”

“Thanks.”

Helen kneeled down to the air mattress. Joaquin returned to his side as she lifted the comforter over herself. It was indeed warmer. Air mattresses were never the most appealing place to rest for Helen, but even the floor would beat that old couch with a permanent slant in the cushions, depressed from years of work holding up Chuck. Back to back, Helen made sure to leave a palm’s width of space between her and her hired date.

“Better?” came Joaquin’s voice gently. He seemed to be on the cusp of sleep.

“Mhm,” she hummed. Her eyes grew heavy. It had been a long day. There didn’t seem to be much of a chance for conversation tonight. Helen was a little disappointed. She enjoyed talking with Joaquin one-on-one, oddly enough. With a light sigh, she quickly surrendered to slumber.