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Simon looks at the shipping label.

“How do you know?”

“Because I ordered it. Put it in his pile.”

“We have seven piles.”

“Because we have seven groups of people.”

He looks around. “Where's his pile?”

“Behind the couch.”

“Where's Theo's?”

“Basement.”

“Parents?”

“By the tree.”

“Brittney and Mason?”

“Chair.”

“My parents?”

“Other chair.”

Simon pauses. “Where do we sit?”

“After Christmas.”

He laughs.

By nine, we've gotten enough organized that I no longer think UPS is using our living room as overflow storage.

I take a shower while Simon breaks down boxes.

When I come out, I can hear him carrying something downstairs.

I pull on sleep shorts and one of his old shirts, twist my wet hair up, and finish getting ready for bed.

I'm halfway my skincare when Simon appears in the doorway.

I see him in the mirror. He's leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. Watching me.

Immediately, something about his face makes my stomach tighten.

“What?”

“I want to talk to you about something.”

“The last time you said that, you'd gotten someone pregnant.” I reach blindly for the hand towel. “Is there a second baby I need to know about?”

His eyes go huge. “No. No, fuck no.”

I laugh. “I'm just checking.”