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Vera opened the front passenger door and set the goose on the seat.

Soren stared at it. “We’re on a schedule.”

“You’re going right past my sister’s. So it won’t trouble you at all.”

“What’s the address?” Soren asked with a sigh.

Jack hid his face behind one hand, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Don’t just leave it on the porch, either,” Vera said. “Ring the doorbell. I need you to tell her it’s from me.”

“You could write a card,” Soren said drily.

“I’m not one for cards,” Vera said. “Or words. Now, off you go. You’re on a schedule.”

Soren secured the goose in the front passenger seat with the seat belt. “Goodbye, Vera.”

“Tell your mama I said hello,” Vera said, backing away from the van.

I found myself waving goodbye as if she were an old friend. She didn’t return the favor, stuffing her hands into her pockets and glowering as Soren backed the van into the street.

“Jack, what’d you get?” I asked.

“A little surprise for Luci,” Jack said. “And you, I suppose.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” I said.

“Well, we have to give old Vera some props,” Jack said. “That was considerably more interesting than a jewelry store.”

We laughed all the way to Marge’s.

27

LUCI

At the Boxing Day party, I set bowls of tomato soup in front of two ranch employees and promised to bring another round of beers. Their table was already crowded with plates, drinks, and a basket of grilled cheese fingers.

One of the Moon family babies studied me from his grandmother’s lap with the solemn attention of a restaurant critic.

“Henry likes you,” Stella said.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

Stella smiled, then kissed the baby’s head. “I can just tell. He reminds me of his father. Caspian was always a careful watcher too.”

I wanted to ask more about Stella’s grandchildren, but someone called me over, asking for another drink. I turned sideways between two chairs, lifted my tray over Rhett’s shoulder, and nearly stepped in front of a baby stroller.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said.

The little girl pushing it stopped and looked up at me. “My baby’s sleeping.”

“I’m sorry. She must be a good sleeper,” I said. “It’s loud in here.”

She nodded, accepting my apology, then carefully steered around me. A doll lay beneath a small blanket, its eyes wide open.

Every table in the restaurant was full. The people who’d spent the month feeding us, cleaning our cabins, tending the horses, and keeping the paths clear were sitting with their families while we did the work. Jack and Ivy had also invited the families we’d shopped for at The Giving Tree.

It had seemed like a manageable number of people until they all wanted supper at the same time. How did these people do this so well every single night of the year?