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Since the moment she’d woken up on December 21st, the day had been a massive flurry, and it showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. The Clarkes, with the help of Max, had bustled around Maggie’s house all day, covering it in endless decorations and piles of food. It was far more hectic than holidays past; Zoey figured that this was at least partially because they were all, herself included, trying to distract themselves from the fact that, understandably, no one had gotten used to spending holidays without Mitch.
Zoey’s head had spun almost constantly since the beginning of December, trying to work through the sudden overload of holiday heartsongs, and she held desperately to the hope that tonight’s party would provide herself and her family with a genuine chance to breathe. In the current moment, she had found a bit of time; she was in her old bedroom with Victoria, whose birthday was shared with the Clarke holiday party every year, and they were both trying to make themselves look as if they hadn’t spent the whole day with glitter on their hands and flour on their faces.
“Do you think people are gonna start arriving soon?”
“Possibly,” came the younger woman’s voice from across the room. “It’s 6:15.”
They were quiet for the moment, and the only sound was the slight clink of the north star pendant that Victoria was placing around her neck.
“...I keep thinking he’s going to knock on the door any minute now.”
Zoey said this quietly, and a hum of agreement came in response.
“And you’ll open the door, and he’ll be standing there with that Santa hat and my birthday present, smiling at us like he used to when we got ready for this party together every year before?”
“Exactly,” Zoey said, her already-tight throat starting to give way. “‘How are my favorite ginger girls’, he’d say...”
Caught in nostalgia, she looked over at her cousin who stood at the mirror. Tall and absolutely stunning in a forest green dress, Victoria swept her hair backwards and let it tumble over her shoulders before bringing it into a loose updo.
Cheesy as it felt to even think the thought, all Zoey could see was the little girl with ginger ringlets, strappy black shoes, and a red bow around her waist.
“He’d be so proud.”
Placing her last bobby pin, Victoria stood still for a moment, and Zoey watched her face in the mirror as it went through a million emotions at once.
“...Damnit, Zoey, I just put on mascara.”
She smiled, and the moment lasted for a bit until a knock came at the door.
“Who could that be?” Zoey asked. “I thought we had more time-”
“‘Early is on time’”, Victoria sighed, “‘on time is late, and late is unacceptable’. I think I know who this is.”
She rolled her shoulders back and let out a breath, taking one last glance in the mirror.
“You’ll be okay, Tori.”
She nodded, her eyes showing a flash of doubt that betrayed her otherwise composed expression, and the cousins started to make their way down the staircase.
“Remember, it’s been a while since we’ve seen her, so don’t be too forward about our expectations. You know how she gets, and she’s not above causing a scene at a party.”
This was heard from behind the door; apparently Zoey’s uncle wasn’t putting much effort into whispering, and Victoria froze for a moment at the first landing of the stairwell.
“Uh-”
“Don’t,” she choked out, her throat tight. “I want to hear what else they’re saying.”
“I’ll be careful, darling,” came her mother’s voice, a bit quieter. “All this time she’s spent with your side of the family, she’s probably lost her discipline even more than she did in college, and she’ll be even more offended by us pointing that out. It’s truly a shame.”
“And I’ve heard she’s singing a duet for us tonight, which will be lovely-”
“Yes, with Zoey’s landlord, who I’m sure she’ll easily outshine.”
“No-”
Having uttered the word in an involuntary, horrified whisper, Victoria’s eyes went dark with shock. Even with all she’d endured from her parents at her own expense, it took their prejudgement of Mo for her to finally let herself cry; Zoey herself was indignant as well, looking back in disbelief on how she hadn’t realized how privately awful her relatives could be.
It was Maggie, not having heard the conversation due to being in the kitchen, who opened the door and greeted them.
“Bill, Sierra, lovely to see you! Come on in!”
In they came with plastered smiles that matched the shakier one on their daughter’s face, and Zoey held her cousin’s hand tightly as they descended the rest of the staircase.
“Happy birthday, dear!”
“Hi, Mom,” she said, her smile almost scarily intact- why this girl hasn’t won a Tony yet is beyond me -as she went to hug her parents, “hi, Dad.”
“We’re really looking forward to hearing you sing tonight,” Bill said with a surprising hint of genuine support.
“Yeah, me too,” Victoria responded deliberately. “I can’t wait to accompany Mo; just wait until you hear him, he’s got the most spectacular voice.”
With this, she patted her father’s arm before her heels briskly clicked toward the kitchen, followed closely by Zoey, who gave a limp wave to her aunt and uncle as Maggie led them to the living room.
“Are there already people here?” David asked once they’d reached the kitchen, bouncing Miles on his shoulder as Emily had hurriedly started closing cupboards.
“Yep,” Victoria said, voice having regained its shake. “Two guesses who.”
“Oh, God,” David responded.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve met your parents,” Emily said, closing the last cupboard and turning with a huff. “They were always out of town when I was here, but, going by the effect they seem to have on you, they seem to be a lot like mine. Honestly, given all they’ve said to my sister over the years, it’s a surprise she ended up as confident as she did.”
“Where’s my favorite cousin-in-law, it has been TOO LONG!” came an exuberant voice, as if on cue, from the doorway.
“Speak of the-”
“JENNA!”
“...and she doth appear,” Emily finished with a smile as Victoria bolted out of the kitchen.
Zoey watched as she giddily embraced Jenna at the door like they were a pair of middle schoolers at a sleepover, grateful that her parents were distracted by Maggie. She could only imagine what they’d say- “such a welcome for someone that doesn’t seem to be a good influence, when you barely seemed happy to see us” -and found herself rolling her eyes on her cousin’s hypothetical behalf. Jenna and Victoria had hit it off immediately upon meeting at David and Emily’s wedding rehearsal, having spent the weekend obsessing over the reception playlist and trading quips and laughs. They seemed to speak the same language and became quite close, much to the chagrin of the younger woman’s parents, who wanted her to spend time with more “settled” people-whatever that meant-but Victoria had gained enough of her own personhood by then not to care.
“Thank God you’re here, now it’s a party, we need help in the kitchen-”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it, now, where’s Miles, I need to squish his little face-”
“Hi, Jenna.”
They’d reached the kitchen, where the sisters greeted each other with a hug and a smile and more hellos were passed around. Time passed in a blur as Zoey welcomed more family members and friends, laid out what appeared to be endless food, and made her usual rounds as she always did during her mother’s parties.
This was mostly a family affair; immediate and extended relatives of all ages took up the majority of the house. Aside from them, Max had been an honorary Clarke for a long time already and they’d celebrated Hanukkah with him earlier, Mo had come with Perry and his kids, Deb had brought her infectious energy along with dozens of old card games that had belonged to her late husband, and Leif surprisingly had yet to arrive. A few more of Zoey’s coworkers had been invited, but couldn’t make it, including Simon, Tobin, and Mackenzie, and there were other various family friends scattered across the party as well.
Victoria had apparently brought up the courage to ask her parents about what she’d heard from the staircase, and Zoey kept the three of them in the corner of her eye as they talked quietly on the couch. The younger woman had often said that acting was in her blood, and Zoey had always believed her-they used to do skits at family functions, which the older cousin was quite annoyed by as a child-but those words echoed in a completely new way as she watched the conversation; Victoria was trying desperately not to cross a line, especially at a party, while still holding her own. Bill and Sierra’s faces were contemplative behind their plastered smiles, and they seemed to be “reasoning” with their daughter the only way they knew how as Zoey tried desperately to read their lips.
They really are actors, it seems.
She clasped her hands around her drink and circled around the living room as nonchalantly as possible, catching a bit of what her aunt was saying.
“I’m sure you’re anxious about what we think of you, dear, but it’s always been that way. Just think of it as something to work on for yourself.”
“That’s right,” Bill said. “If you want to make it in this business, you’ll have to develop a thicker skin. There will be people who won’t hide their comments behind closed doors.”
Victoria looked as if her head was reeling, and Zoey could hardly blame her; it came as no surprise when a soft and angst-filled guitar came into Zoey’s consciousness.
“There is a wall in my life built by you,” Victoria sang, and Jenna, who had made her way behind where her cousin-in-law was sitting, started to hum along.
“What’s this one about?” came a voice from next to Zoey, and she turned to see Max at her side, apparently a bit out of breath from their usual ritual of finding the other the moment a heartsong began. It’s easier, she thought, to at least have someone else to analyze these with, but I’ll have to fill him in on some things.
“Her parents,” she sighed in a whisper. “You’ve known her for a while, too, but I don’t know if she’s ever really told you what they’re like.”
“You opened a door that a kid shouldn’t walk through,” the younger woman continued, slowly standing up and glaring almost childishly at her father, who sat in his brother’s spot on the couch. Zoey hadn’t noticed that until now, and something in her chest twisted.
“Oh, but I’m not bitter, I’m just tired; no use getting angry at the way that you’re wired.”
She turned away from them as she sang this, as if unable to take her storm of thoughts that sprouted from their storm of words any longer.
“Ignorant trauma in one afternoon…”
Looking over her shoulder at her parents, there was an almost unexplainable depth of sadness in her eyes, as if she knew-or was trying to convince herself-that they truly did have the best of intentions.
“And I could never let you know, ooh, you’ll never get it…”
Jenna now joined in once more as they both started to dance, looking into the distance as if singing to her own faraway parents as Victoria continued singing to hers.
“And now I’m the one who can’t let go, ooh-don’t say it’s genetic.”
Their movements were fluid yet perfectly in sync, and they leaned on each other without making eye contact, almost unknowingly supporting each other as they went into the chorus.
“Is it real? You believe you’re guiltless...oh, I can tell you believe you’re guiltless, but I don’t think I’d feel better if I opened your eyes.”
On this line, their demeanors became even more quietly tortured, and Zoey’s eyes widened as she started to take in the true meaning of the lyrics.
“I’ll carry your burden ‘till the day that you die.”
“This is... really sad.”
“You think?” Max said, a darkness having come into his tone.
“Is it real, you believe you’re guiltless?”
The first verse and chorus seemed to have finished, but the acoustic guitar continued a vamp of background noise as the rest of the sounds of the party slowly started to fade back in. Victoria had sat back down, face still slightly frozen, and she seemed about to respond to what her parents had said before the doorbell rang.
Zoey watched as her shoulders relaxed with hope, and she excused herself, continuing to hum the song as she almost flew to the door. She took a deep breath before opening it and practically falling into the arms of the person standing on the other side.
“Hi,” Leif was saying, hugging her back with a slightly confused expression. “You okay?”
“I’ll make it through,” she responded, still almost talking in rhythm with the ever-present guitar. “How are you?”
“Well, I know that expression,” he said as he took off his jacket, “because I’ve held it myself too many times. And I’m sorry I’m late, I was just...nervous, for a reason that-well-that I’m guessing also has to do with that expression.”
“Fully understandable.”
“And who’s this tall drink of water?” came Jenna’s singsong voice, nearly startling Leif out of his wits as she came between the couple, took each of their arms, and led them toward the food. They exchanged an anxious glance over the top of her head, almost comically communicating without words, and Zoey looked at Max, asking him just as silently how to deal with the heartsong.
“I don’t know what to do about this one,” she said in a hushed tone, “and especially at a party. We might just have to wait.”
“Yeah, I think they’ll be fine for now.”
The introduction had been made, and Jenna patted their shoulders with a grin before leaving them to the food table and what Zoey assumed was a very nervous conversation. Leif kept glancing toward Victoria’s parents on the couch, and they glanced right back, scanning him with quietly yet dangerously nitpicking eyes. Victoria seemed to almost sense this, and she took his arm, whispering something to him as they approached her parents. He nodded, seeming at least slightly comforted, and rolled his shoulders back.
“So this is the famous Laef,” Sierra said as she stood up, shaking his hand.
“It’s Leif, actually,” he corrected with a well-concealed wince. “Leif Donnelly.”
“Terribly sorry, my boy,” Bill said on behalf of his wife as he thwacked Leif’s shoulder. Zoey would have almost laughed at his reaction; it would have been hilarious if he didn’t seem so genuinely uncomfortable.
“You know, we’re so happy that our Vicky has truly found someone,” Sierra beamed. “She was so lonely through her teen years, we were scared she’d just be holed up as a spinster, studying music forever-”
“Although, we wouldn’t have minded that either,” Bill joked, and Victoria’s eyes continued to widen with each word out of their mouths. “She would have gotten much more time to practice without those distractions.”
“No consideration of what she would have wanted? Not even a thought of balance between work and social life? And barely a scruple towards him?”
“None,” Zoey responded to Max’s remark. “That’s kind of their theme.”
The guitar and a bit of added percussion, to the surprise of neither of them, increased in dynamic as Victoria started in on the song’s second verse.
“I’ll never know why you favor that tone.”
Now it was Leif who hummed along, and although his expression was composed after years of dealing with similar people, as he transitioned into the heartsong, his sympathetic gaze toward his girlfriend held a clear message: they’re just like mine. I get it.
“Not one shred of hope, so I built up my own.”
She took his arm upon singing this, and they held each other as if each was the reminder that the other craved. Phone to her ear, appearing worried, Jenna meandered into the room and her voice once again joined the chorus; Zoey figured the renewal of the song’s emotion had to do with whatever conversation was taking place.
“Oh, but I’m not bitter, I’m just tired; no use getting angry at the way that you’re wired. A dark politician will end up alone.”
Forming a triangle in the living room as Victoria’s parents obliviously chattered away, the three singers resumed their dance.
“And I could never let you know-ooh, you’d never get it, and now I’m the one who can’t let go-ooh, don’t say it’s genetic.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see how many people felt this way.”
“Yeah,” Max said resignedly. “You’re apparently one of the few people in here with generally good parents, Zo. Everyone’s got stuff they’re dealing with.”
“Well, believe me, I know that by now.”
“Is it real? You believe you’re guiltless…”
It was clear now that each of them sang to their own parents, wherever they might have been, and somehow simultaneously knew of each other’s struggles as well.
“Oh, I can tell you believe you’re guiltless.”
They weaved in and out among the party guests, their voices dancing tentatively across the tight three-part harmonies.
“But I don’t think I’d feel better if I opened your eyes…”
Through the turns, Leif had now ended up directly in front of Zoey and Max, singing to the wall that he’d “carry your burden ‘till the day that you die.” His expression reminded Zoey of how shaken he’d been upon receiving the single negative peer review, which felt like ages ago; she hadn’t considered then what he must have been through to react that way, and if it was anything like what she’d watched her cousin endure over the years of pressure and tense conversations, she actually felt... sorry for him.
“This power really does change your perspective of things,” Max said, apparently feeling the same way, and now it was Zoey’s turn to respond with those oft-uttered two words.
“You think?”
“Is it real, you believe you’re guiltless?”
Holding out the last note of the chorus, the singers walked backwards toward the middle of the living room, eventually shrinking their triangle to fit around the coffee table.
“Oh, but I’m not bitter, I’m just tired; no use getting angry at the way that you’re wired,” Victoria began, movements extremely subtle and driven by her breath. This phrase was repeated over and over, alternating between solo lines for each of them and various combinations of voices, weaving in and out of harmonies; it seemed so simple and yet so quietly complex, and Zoey and Max watched in amazement as pieces of melody from other parts of the song started to work their way in.
“But I’m not bitter, I’m just tired-”
“-you believe you’re-”
“-till the day that you die.”
This was a trio Zoey wouldn’t have expected, but it somehow made sense as it unfolded in front of her; their voices and their stories managed to weave together well. They continued to dance their way around the table, and as the canon went on, she started to notice the more individual subtleties in it; Jenna had taken up the drive of the piece- “no use getting angry at the way that you’re wired” , Leif expertly riffed across the chords while interjecting “till the day that you die” every so often, and Victoria’s voice floated through the chorus, still looking at her parents and still in disbelief- “you believe you’re guiltless” .
Eventually, as this nuanced canon continued and the instruments started to fade, the singers worked their way back into reality. Time had apparently passed, and Victoria and Leif stood, emotionally exhausted, by the punch bowl as Jenna went to the other side of the living room, hanging up her phone and taking a drink in hand.
“Is it real, you believe-”
“No use getting angry at-”
“-till the day that you die.”
With the ends of their phrases, they shifted almost too easily back into reality as if nothing had happened, and the rest of the party faded back into full sound.
...Well.
Zoey let out a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding and turned to Max with a fairly definitive statement.
“So they’re...not fine.”
“Yeah, I can see that. What could we do about it?”
Zoey considered this for a while, her gaze darting across every party guest before settling back onto her best friend’s brown eyes.
“We’ll let Tori know; at this point, she knows both of them better than I do, and she’ll probably have a better idea of how to handle it.”
“But what about her? And on her birthday?”
“I don’t know,” Zoey answered after a moment. “She’s always been the one to...but it’s very clear that she needs help, too. We’ll figure it out.”
“And what are you two all in a twist about?” came Mo’s voice as he joined them, resplendent in a deep red gown.
“Heard another song,” Max replied tiredly. “Family angst from a couple of people.”
“That’s what you get around the holidays. I’m trying to get through my first Christmas spent around kids since I was one myself, and believe me when I tell you it is an adventure.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I guess, when it comes to this,” Zoey said, “all we can do for the time being is...try to remind them how much we value them? Slip advice into conversations?”
“Of course, but please try to keep it subtle. We don’t need a repeat of the Spelliversary.”
“In any way,” Max agreed. “I’m still sorry about what I said that night.”
“And I’m still sorry about what I witnessed the night after,” Zoey said after looking to him with a grateful acknowledgement before slipping into the uncomfortable memory. “It’s so weird now to think about how that even happened.”
“And now…” Mo trailed off, gaze traveling to the punch bowl.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, hi! Mo, is it?” came another voice from the side, now belonging to Jenna. “Fantastic to see you again.”
“And you,” came the reply. Drinks in hand, they moved to another part of the room to catch up for a moment.
Max let out a breath, placing a hand on Zoey’s arm, and they made eye contact, agreeing to somehow begin their task.
The party went on, and Zoey managed to slip in various reassurances to those who’d sung throughout the night of playing hostess, occasionally falling back into memories of past parties her parents had held. They’d been busy, exuberant, slightly stressful as all parties were for her, and she yearned for that sense of warmth and ease that her dad had always brought to those nights. Tonight, still as in years past, she’d gotten to spend quite a bit of time with various members of her family, both blood and chosen; she was currently on the couch, Deb sitting next to her and Victoria standing behind them.
“It’s almost time,” the taller ginger said, checking her phone every few seconds. “My mom keeps texting me vocal advice from across the room.”
“You’d think she would trust me with this, if she wouldn’t trust you,” Deb said lightheartedly. “I’m the one she paid to do just that.”
“Mm,” was the absentminded and slightly nervous answer. “Where’s Leif?”
“In the greenhouse with Mom,” Zoey responded. “They’ve been nerding out over plants for the past half hour or so.”
This made Victoria genuinely smile at the thought, and she craned her neck a bit to look through the greenhouse window. Zoey’s gaze followed hers to catch a glimpse of Leif holding a plant and appearing absolutely transfixed by it as Maggie talked inaudibly and animatedly, probably listing off endless facts about it. Zoey smiled, too; it had been a long time since her mom had had an audience this enthusiastic.
“So the whole ‘meeting the parents’ thing didn’t go exactly as we hoped,” Victoria mused, “but it looks like it ended up okay.”
Zoey turned to look at her, noting that there was remarkably genuine peace in her expression and the purest love imaginable as she looked through the window.
She’s okay.
Somehow, through all of this, she’s okay.
She resolved to continue to keep an eye on her cousin; as open as the younger woman was with her emotions, she was still terrified of becoming a burden, and Zoey wanted to make sure that she knew she could come to her.
Half exhausted by these thoughts on top of all of the others, Zoey let her shoulders fall and took a sip of wine as they left the greenhouse; Victoria went to join Leif by the side of the room as Maggie tapped her glass with a spoon, commanding the attention of the house.
“Hello, everyone,” she said with a smile. “I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves tonight; we’re going to keep this party going with some music from the very talented Mo and my wonderful niece.”
Zoey watched the sparkle in her mother’s eye grow as she addressed the crowd; there was a fleck of deja vu in her expression as well, though, and she could tell she was remembering the last time she’d introduced a musical guest at a party. Flicking the sympathetic yet laughing cringe off of her shoulder, Maggie continued, raising her glass.
“Let’s hear it!”
The loudest cheers came from Amirah and August, who held a plaid-bowtied Marvin. David rolled his old upright piano from the closet into the living room, and Mo approached it, looking at the two children with a touched and grateful expression that Zoey had seldom seen grace his features until they’d come into his life.
Leif whispered something to Victoria, and she laughed before letting go of his hand and making her way to the instrument. She smoothed out her dress and took her seat at the piano bench; it squeaked a bit as she sat down, and she grinned as she glanced at David, nostalgia in their eyes.
A slight chime of a phone camera came from Zoey’s side, and her gaze flickered toward it, noticing that her aunt and uncle were now standing next to her and recording a Facebook live video. Zoey smirked slightly; since Victoria was in her early teens, she’d complained about her parents’ lack of respect for her privacy or consent for her performances to be streamed to all of their “old, conservative friends who barely knew what art was”, in her words years ago. The friends in question were quickly rolling into the live, and Zoey knew her younger cousin would be thrilled by the idea that they were about to hear something that even slightly contrasted with the image her parents carefully kept of her on their social media even after all of these years.
With a breath and a glance towards Mo, Victoria started playing a traditional Christmas hymn, spiced up a bit with sparks and quiet flourishes of her own composition. The singer rolled his shoulders back as his cue approached, and Perry smiled, a glint in his eye as if this was the best part of his Christmas so far.
“O holy night,” Mo began, “the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.”
Mo looked to the sky as he sang, settling into the melody and the message of the piece, and Victoria watched him with a growing admiration.
“Long lay the world in sin and error pining, ‘till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.”
The soul felt its worth.
Even outside of a religious context, the phrase struck Zoey as it never had before. She looked around the room of familiar faces who were captivated by Mo’s voice; Perry’s kids looked up with awe, Deb whispered something to Maggie and was answered with a smile, and even Miles’ eyes widened under his tiny Santa hat.
As far as Zoey could see, the room had settled into a genuine peace, and every soul was indeed feeling its worth.
“A thrill of hope; the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.”
Mo graced the familiar melody with a few riffs here and there, and Zoey’s gaze once again flicked to her aunt and uncle, who started to seem genuinely impressed.
“Fall on your knees, oh, hear the angel voices!”
Transitioning into the chorus, Mo’s voice gained power and floated over the melody, taking Zoey’s breath away despite the sheer amount of times she’d heard that voice.
“O night divine, O night when Christ was born…”
Victoria leaned further into the piano and struck a chord that rang out with Mo’s highest note so far, catching the room up in its sound.
“O night divine! O night, O holy night.”
On the last few words, Mo riffed downward a bit and decreased in dynamic, ushering in an instrumental second verse.
Victoria carried out a bit of improv among the traditional melody, and Zoey felt a slight push against her shoulder as her aunt tried to give her Facebook friends a better view.
“A thrill of hope,” Victoria now sang, “the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.”
Smiling down at her, Mo joined in on a harmony, and their voices locked together in a perfect connection.
“Fall on your knees, oh, hear the angel voices!”
“The angel voices indeed,” Max whispered from behind her with a smile.
“Noel, noel, O night when Christ was born.”
Zoey watched as her cousin’s smile grew in anticipation, her hand climbing down the bassline just before the two sopranos floated into a harmony that practically opened the roof of the house.
“Noel, noel!”
Relishing in the moment, they held the note and let it linger, allowing a slight silence before continuing a capella.
“O night…”
A beaming Victoria came back in on her arpeggios, coming down in breath as if what the two of them had just pulled off was the most natural thing in the world.
“O night divine.”
For the last line, their voices braided into unison, clear and pure and stunningly unique. Victoria played her final chord, and as she looked up at Mo from the bench, Zoey caught a glimpse of her younger self flash through her eyes, fluttering in the excitement of having been part of the creation of the moment.
The first and loudest cheers came once again from Perry’s kids, and Mo almost teared up as he looked at them. The fire marshal himself was looking right at his partner with a deep admiration in his deep brown eyes, and Zoey was struck by the swirl of emotions she saw in that one shared glance.
The rest of the party continued on, and it seemed to Zoey as if every guest-and host, for that matter-was still slightly caught in the glow of the music. Victoria’s parents had eventually left, and hopefully with more of an understanding than with which they came; Zoey could only guess at this, but her cousin did seem more at peace.
Guests trailed off as time went on, and the Clarkes began to take full breaths for the first time all day. Emily collapsed asleep on the couch the first moment she had a chance, and David sat next to her in a daze, snacking on leftover peanuts from a small bowl as Victoria held her- what would Miles be to her? Second cousin? No, that’s not-first cousin once removed, that’s it. Bit of a mouthful.
Whatever the term was, she carefully climbed the stairs with him in her arms, presumably to set him in his crib. Zoey walked around with her mother, helping her clean up the remnants of the party and eventually heading upstairs as well.
Maggie had designated a guest room for when her son’s family came to visit, and Zoey softly knocked on that door before entering. Victoria was standing over the crib, watching Miles as he slept.
“Hi,” Zoey whispered, and the younger woman looked up, blinking as if she’d been brought out of a fatigued reverie.
“Hey.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Pretty well,” was the answer. “He’s just been taking it all in.”
“He really liked when you and Mo were singing.”
“Really?” she smiled. “Well, then I’m set for life. That’s the only approval I needed.”
Zoey grinned, and a familial silence fell over the three of them for a moment before she spoke again..
“Interesting way to spend your birthday.”
An inexplicable something fell over Victoria’s face.
“Well, I’m used to spending it this way by now. I’ve always loved these family parties, it’s just been...different lately, of course.”
Zoey nodded, coming to her side by the crib, and the thoughtful silence reigned for a few more minutes before they headed back downstairs, the shorter ginger holding her nephew after his nap. The boy’s eyes were slightly reminiscent of Emily’s, and they seemed to somehow simultaneously be present in the moment and ask a million questions; Zoey could barely describe what she felt upon that recognition.
Time.
The passage of time.
...I’m gonna have some eggnog.
She smiled down at Miles before handing him to her brother and flumping into a chair. The aftertaste of the party’s end was starting to settle in, and Victoria meandered into the greenhouse, leaning her head on Leif’s shoulder as he admired some of Maggie’s newly grown zinnias.
“Tonight was actually...good.”
Emily’s voice came tiredly from where she lay on the couch, looking at her husband and son with a quiet smile.
“I’d say so,” David replied. “It was weird, definitely, but somehow there was a warmth there. I think he’d be proud.”
“Absolutely,” Zoey agreed as the conversation between the voices from the greenhouse started fading into earshot.
“Is this always how you spend your birthday?”
“Typically,” Victoria answered as the two made their way into the foyer. “This is always really nice, but I’d also love to do something with the fourth floor group. It’s just not the same without them.”
“Of course.”
“And I’m sorry about my parents. They like you, I can tell that they really do, they’re just...like that.”
“Believe me, I get it. They’d get along extremely well with mine.”
“Now that would be...I’m not sure whether I’m entertained or terrified by the thought.”
“I’m just exhausted,” he laughed, and she raised her hand to the sky in agreement.
“Preach. By the idea and by the night itself; I can’t believe it’s only 9:45.”
“Still time for birthday festivities,” Maggie pointed out as she passed them and sat on the couch, “but I think all of us are-”
“Absolutely drained,” Emily finished her mother-in-law’s sentence, her face in a pillow.
“Completely understandable,” Victoria replied. “Not to sound like a writer for Buzzfeed, but my couch is practically calling my name.”
“Should we just watch a movie at your place?”
“Yes. What are you thinking?”
“Well, it’s your birthday,” Leif said as he shrugged on his jacket, “but I guess I was, uh, leaning towards Spielberg for the night.”
“Jurassic Park?”
“And we quote the whole thing while we watch it?” he suggested with a smirk, the cadence of his voice slipping into almost impression-esque territory.
“God, you know me so well,” she laughed adoringly.
With that, the couple said their goodbyes and left, the rest of the family-now minus Max as well-still catching their breath on the couch.
After a few minutes of sleepily traded memories, David and Emily left with Miles in tow. Fingers tracing a plate of long-gone candies, Zoey stayed nestled in her chair, watching as Maggie stared at the blank television for a time.
“How are you doing?”
Her mother blinked and turned to her with such an indescribable expression that Zoey was pulled to her side, moving to the couch and leaning against her shoulder.
“I know.”
Maggie’s arm wrapped around her, and the younger woman let out a long-held breath, not expecting her to speak by the time she did.
“We’re moving on. And it’s a long process, and it’s hard, and it feels almost wrong to celebrate even though I know he’d want us to,” she said quietly. Her daughter only nodded, unsure of how to respond.
“There…”
Maggie looked down at her, and Zoey met her eyes as she trailed off.
“You’re right. You’re so right, I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to,” Maggie said, stroking her hair. “The feelings will be there. We’ll just live in everything the best we can.”
Zoey pondered this, accepting the comfort and letting herself feel like a child again as she almost fell asleep on her mother’s shoulder.
Maggie carefully lifted the remote and turned on the TV, on which a hushed rendition of It’s a Wonderful Life was about halfway through.
Zoey felt a single tear drop onto her forehead, and she nestled closer; this was her father’s favorite Christmas film.
“Like I’ve always said, Zoey. One person’s effect on the world can mean everything. We’re all connected.”
She looked up at Maggie, who was softly smiling through her tears.
Every person has an effect.
Every heart has its song.
Every soul has its worth.