I guided them toward the dining table where Ava had carefully placed three mismatched candles and a napkin holder shaped like a snowman. The table was clearly set for three.
My mom noticed instantly.
“You didn’t expect us?” she asked, figning surprise.
“Nope,” I said, heading back into the kitchen to check on the ham. “Because I was explicitly told I wasn’t invited. Remember?”
I heard her sigh, followed by the soft clink of her bracelets as she moved something on the table.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Mom, you literally said Christmas was going to be very intimate and that my kids were too chaotic for your new guest.”
Rachel smiled faintly. “I don’t think I used those exact words.”
“You weren’t even on the phone,” I said, sharper than I meant to, “but you seemed to have inspired the phrasing.”
There was a silence thick enough to slice, interrupted only by the faint jingle of Mason shaking the wrapped presents under the tree.
Jake finally broke it.
“We figured it would be nice to surprise you. You know, put the past behind us. Do Christmas as a family.”
I turned around, raising an eyebrow. “What past are we talking about exactly? The one where you all excluded us for the sake of appearances?”
Jake shrugged. “Don’t be so dramatic, man.”
I let the insult float for a second before shaking my head and pulling the ham out of the oven. The smell filled the room. Honey glaze and cloves, warm and comforting.
Ava was bouncing with excitement while Mason sat at the little table in the corner where he was building a Lego police station.
Then Rachel muttered, “Is there something vegetarian?”
I froze, holding the hot tray in my oven mitts.
“Vegetarian?” I asked.
She gave me a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t eat meat.”
“I wasn’t told anyone was coming,” I replied, setting the tray down with more force than necessary. “So, no, I didn’t make a second entree.”
“I just assumed,” she said, touching her curls like she’d been inconvenienced by my ignorance.
And that was the moment I knew this wasn’t about family. It was a performance.
They decided after ditching us to show up here and play happy family in my space, under my roof, with my kids. All while treating my life like a charity project they could feel good about visiting.
Still, I bit my tongue. For the kids.
Dinner was awkward. Ava, bless her, kept trying to engage everyone with her best Christmas jokes.
“What do you get if you cross a snowman and a dog? Frostbite,” she squealled.
Only Mason laughed.
My mom didn’t even smile. Rachel spent most of the time pushing steamed carrots around her plate, and Jake just kept checking his watch like he had a private yacht waiting outside.
About halfway through the meal, Rachel finally leaned toward Ava and said, “So, what’s it like growing up in a place like this?”
Ava blinked. “Like what?”
Rachel gestured vaguely. “You know, small, no yard, so many colors.”
My jaw clenched. “We do just fine. Thanks.”
“Oh, of course,” she said quickly. “It’s just Jake grew up in a very different environment. Grand piano, horses, that sort of thing.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly. “I remember. I was there, too. Just in the background, apparently.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
That was rich coming from the guy who used to make fun of my handme-down shoes while we both lived in the same house. The golden child, the miracle boy. He could crash my car at 16 and get a pat on the back. I miss a phone bill payment one time in college and get cut off from the emergency fund. The one I found out later was still funding Jake’s Europe trips, but I didn’t say that.
Not yet.
After dessert, which no one touched except Mason, who ate half the gingerbread house when I wasn’t looking, my mom announced they had one more surprise.
Jake stood up and reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small envelope.
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s this?”
“An invitation,” he said. “Rachel and I are getting engaged. Figured you might as well be included. Ceremonies next month.”
“Wait,” I said, my voice dropping. “You came here to handdel a wedding invite after uninviting us from Christmas.”