“Come in.” Oliver pushed past me shouting about the tree.

Emma wrapped both arms around my waist.

Claire kissed my cheek and asked where she could put the food.

Daniel stood a moment longer, looking at me.

“Thank you for having us,” he said.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I answered.

Dinner wasn’t perfect.

The vegetables were late, Oliver spilled cider, and Daniel overcooked part of the roast.