Page 57 of Thin Ice

Danny smirked from the far end of the couch. "I guess you were naughty this year."

"That's not fair!"

Russ went second. He reached into the pile and pulled out a small one. A coffee mug that said I'D RATHER BE FISHING. He held it up like he'd won the lottery. "Better than coal!"

Liam went third. He picked one from the middle, unwrapped it carefully. Christmas-tree socks.

"Those will be cute on you," I said.

Sheryl went next. She picked from the pile and unwrapped a candle. Vanilla bourbon. She smelled it and nodded approvingly, which was a mistake, because Russ immediately leaned forward and said "I'm stealing that."

"You have a mug," Sheryl said, pulling the candle to her chest. "You can only steal on your turn. Too late."

"I want the candle," Russ said.

"You don't even burn candles," Deb said from beside him.

"I'm a candle guy now," Russ said.

"Too late, Russ," Linda said, pointing at him.

He sat back. Sheryl held the candle closer.

Deb went fifth. Kitchen timer shaped like a chicken. She pressed the button on the floor in front of her. It clucked. Maddie screamed with delight and lunged for it across the circle. Deb held it over her head. "Get your own, Madeline."

"But mine's coal!"

"Like Danny said. I guess you were naughty."

Sam went sixth. Gift card. He looked at it, said "Cool," and slid it into his hoodie pocket before anyone could see it. The fastest draw in the family.

Danny got a hat that said LAKE LIFE in block letters. He put it on without changing expression. It looked terrible. He kept it on for the rest of the night.

My turn. Seven.

I reached into the pile and picked one wrapped in the Sunday comics. I started to peel the tape and Maddie said "Just rip it" so I ripped it.

A hand-knitted scarf. Dark blue and white. Thick, slightly uneven at the edges where whoever made it had dropped a stitch or two.

"That's mine," Aunt Deb said from across the circle, leaning forward. "I made it. If it's ugly, I'm sorry, and if it's nice, you're welcome."

No label. No brand. No receipt. Just yarn that a woman I'd met three hours ago had spent evenings working into something warm because it was Christmas.

"It's great," I said. "Thank you."

"It matches your eyes," Maddie said loudly, and the room laughed. I wrapped the scarf around my neck because it seemed like the right thing to do. Liam looked at me from the other end of the couch with the Christmas-tree socks in his lap and he was happy. Just happy. I held his look and for the length of a breath the room was just us.

The house was winding down. Maddie was asleep on the couch with her head on a throw pillow and the bag of charcoal at her feet. Sam was in the corner of the living room on his phone, the screen lighting his face blue. Russ and Danny were watching something with the volume low, Danny still wearing the LAKE LIFE hat. Grandpa Ed was in his chair by the window, flask somewhere in his jacket, eyes half-closed.

I was standing by the bookshelf in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, looking at a photo of Liam at eight holding a fish. Gap-toothed grin. Barefoot on a dock. The fish was tiny.

"He was so proud of that fish," Grandma said behind me. I turned. She was standing in the hallway with her coat half on, her reading glasses pushed up on her head. "Ed took him out on the lake every Saturday for an entire summer before he caught one. Most patient kid I ever seen. He'd just sit there for hours."

"That sounds like him," I said.

She looked at me for a second. Steady. The same look she'd given me in the kitchen doorway four hours ago, except this one was warmer. She'd made her assessment then. This was something else.

"He's been nervous about tonight," she said. "You probably know that."