Page 16 of Fake It for Christmas

“And Miss Barb hasbucketsof the winter squash now,” Mom was saying from across the diner table. “You’ll see.”

Mariel and I were sitting across from our mom and dad in a booth, meeting up before our monthly trip to the Bestens Farmer’s Market together. They’d already been wide awake and ready to go since about 5:30 in the morning, most likely, but Mariel and I were still blinking awake.

The diner was in full swing already, too, here at 7:30 a.m. Hosts and servers bustled around as slanted morning light started to come in through the big rounded corner windows, tables and silverware clanked, and diner regulars filled up the breakfast bar.

The diner had already strung up some multicolored Christmas lights along their windows, which I strongly approved of, too.

“I’m thinking it’s about time for sweet potato pie,” Dad said.

“Yes,” Mariel and I both said at the same time, perking up.

Dad didn’t cook much, but his sweet potato pie was legendary.

“Oh, and I don’t think I told you two,” Mom said, holding out a hand. “The Johnstonsandthe Browns are both coming out for the Christmas party this year.”

“Wow,” I said. “You’re going to have a full house.”

“A very full house,” Mom said, her eyes widening. “Like, sleeping bags on the living room floor levels of full. Did you know Liz and Darius had a third kid earlier this year?”

“Wait a minute,” Mariel said. “So all of the Johnstons are coming?”

Mom nodded. “Oh yes.”

“Meaning yourseven brothers and sistersandall of their kids?”

“And now some of their kids’ kids,” Dad added with a chuckle. “Driving in from all over. Guess people are really craving some Christmas cheer this year.”

“And that doesn’t even include your father’s side of the family,” Mom added.

“So for two weeks, from the Christmas party until Christmas day, we’re going to have a rotating carousel of family in the house,” Dad said.

“I think now is when we have to ask,” Mom said, “if some of the circus can stay at your houses?”

“Of course,” I said automatically.

In reality, I couldn’t even picture it—I didn’t have a guest bedroom, and my house wasn’t exactly in the best hosting condition. But I had a couch, and sleeping bags could go anywhere.

Mariel’s house was similarly small, but a lot newer, and she said she could help accommodate family as needed, too.

“The population of Bestens is going to be composed of about 25% of our family for those two weeks,” Dad said.

“Bestens isn’tthatsmall,” I said, waving him off.

“Honey, you’ll never guess what news Frankie has,” Mom said to me, her eyes suddenly lighting up again.

I braced myself.

Frankie was one of my many cousins, and Momlovedto update me about him because he was gay, just like me.

“What’s up with Frankie?”

“Engaged,” Mom mouthed, smiling wide and pointing to her ring finger.

Actually, that was a little surprising.

“Frankie got engaged?”

She nodded, pride written all over her face. “Can you believe it? His boyfriend—fiance—said yes, and they’re already planning a wedding.”

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