Dolores took Pfeffernüsse wrapped carefully in foil.
At the front door, Carol removed the little silver bell from my tree and held it in her palm.
“I think I’m ready to put it on my own tree.”
“I’m glad.”
She hugged me.
After the last guest left, Ruth stayed.
The house looked exactly like a house should look after a good Christmas.
Glasses everywhere.
Cookie crumbs on the coffee table.
A napkin under the couch.
Serving spoons in the wrong dishes.
Half-burned candles.
Stacks of plates in the kitchen.
“You happy?” Ruth asked.
I considered the question.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She put on her coat.
At the door, she pointed at me.
“Do not clean all of this tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’ll only do the kitchen.”
“Gwendolyn.”
“Go home, Ruth.”
She laughed and left.
The next morning, Daniel arrived just before noon.
Alone.
“Natalie stayed in Asheville?”
“She went out with her mother. I’m driving back later.”
He took off his coat.
For a second, we stood in the front hallway looking at each other.
Then he noticed the dining room.
The extra table was still there.
Several chairs had been pushed back at odd angles.
A forgotten wineglass sat near the far end.
“Wow.”
“What?”
“It looks like something actually happened here.”
“Something did.”
He walked into the living room.
He stopped at the tree.
Then he noticed the photograph on my phone lying on the side table.
Priya had taken it the previous afternoon and sent it to me before bed.
All seventeen of us were around the table.
Dolores was raising her glass.
Jerome was laughing.
Ruth had apparently been talking when the picture was taken because her mouth was open.
I was standing near the center holding a platter.
Daniel picked up the phone.
“That’s Jerome?”
“Yes.”
“The student from your literacy program?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s Priya?”
I nodded.
He studied the picture.
“You really had seventeen people.”
“You’ve said that four times now.”
“I know.”
He set the phone down.
“I don’t know what I expected.”
I did.
But I let him say it.
He looked around the room.
“I guess I thought you’d be here alone.”
“Why?”
His face changed.
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel.”
He sat on the couch.
“I think I assumed you were waiting for us.”
I sat in the chair across from him.
“For Christmas?”
“For everything, maybe.”
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
“I think I’ve always assumed you’d be here,” he said. “Same house. Same dinner. Same Christmas.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“Like I could come when I wanted and skip it when I wanted, and it would all still be waiting.”
“For a long time, it was.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I went into the kitchen and reheated leftovers.
Chicken.
Potatoes.
Green beans.
A little ham.
I put two Pfeffernüsse on each plate even though cookies had no business being served with lunch.
When I set the chicken in front of him, Daniel took one bite and closed his eyes.
“That’s it.”
“What?”
“Christmas.”