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Mom paused mid-deal. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” I said, sitting down like it hurt. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to eat.”

“I’ll send you with leftovers,” Jodie said, fanning her cards.

“Great.” So thoughtful. Salmonella to go.

I wrapped myself in one of the red holiday fur-lined throw blankets Jodie always had out this time of year and nibbled on a handful of almonds Mom had put on the table for snacking. I was starving. I’d already passed on the appetizers since they were also questionable. I didn’t even eat the deviled eggs, and I love deviled eggs. When I got my food, I was going to sneak to the bathroom and inhale it. Discard the evidence under the sink until a better time arose to throw it out—though if my projections about the safety of dinner were correct, the bathroom might be busy. Maybe I could stash the empty takeout boxes under the bed in the guest room?

Dad looked at his stack of cards over his glasses. “Oh my. Oh my. What is this game?” he asked, blinking at us.

My little brother cracked up.

Mom looked at her cards and her eyes flew wide. “Is this a sex thing?” she said, horrified.

“I love how you just bought this, Mom, and didn’t even read the box,” Jodie said.

“The boy at the checkout said it was fun!”

“It’s gonna be fun for me,” Devon said, organizing his cards.

“Is this what you kids think is entertainment these days?” Dad asked, reading another card and shaking his head.

“Oh, like you guys didn’t summon demons and Bloody Mary?” I said, checking out my stack. “I’ve seen the Ouija board in the attic. At least we’re not opening a portal to hell.”

Mom bobbed her head. “She has a point.”

“I saw a Ghostbuster car the other day,” Devon said.

Mom looked up at him. “Where did you see that?”

“Parade.”

“Was it the car from the movie?” she asked.

“Yeah, but like, a different business on the side,” he said.

“What kind of business drives a 1959 Cadillac ambulance hearse?” Dad said, making a face at his cards.

“Uh, a ghost-busting business?” Devon said.

“They don’t actually have those,” Jodie said.

“Yeah, they do.” My brother rolled his eyes.

Mom shook her head. “It was probably just a fun show car.”

“Nuh-uh, I googled it,” Devon said. “It’s real.”

“We playing this or what?” I asked.

My family got back on track.

We did a few uncomfortable rounds of the game. One where Mom was so mortified to read the cards she had to hand them to Devon, who was just thrilled to have permission to drop f-bombs in front of his parents. The second round was Dad’s turn. He was beet red the whole time.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Mom said, giving up. “It’s too vulgar.” She plucked at the front of her shirt like the entire ordeal made her sweat.

It was Saturday, December 16. Since Jodie was an ER nurse and worked the holiday, we were celebrating Christmas today. We’d already done gifts. I got my parents a monthly cheese club subscription. Devon got a new video game. I bought Ivan a bourbon he liked, and for my sister, a bunch of cute stuff from this boutique I was obsessed with in Minneapolis, Lykke and Loom—which was funny, because she gave me the same thing.