Clattering, chattering, and all other sorts of noise filled the dining room. I sunk back into my seat and relaxed as the sounds wrapped around me.

So far, being around such a big family proved to be extremely comforting. The noise level, contrary to being a disruption, became a protective shield against the world.

Or rather, the thoughts in my own head.

With Franco and Tre shouting at each other from opposite ends of the table, Mrs. Salvatore and Dominic discussing Easter plans at a thousand miles per minute, Pops and Angelo talking shop, and Lia and Paige gushing about New York’s last fashion week, it became pretty hard for my own neurotic worries to find space in my brain.

I sipped some orange juice and smiled to myself. From down the table Angelo caught my eye and sent me a wink.

Mrs. Salvatore clapped her hands together. “Who’s coming to pick out the tree after breakfast?”

“Huh?” I couldn’t help but mutter.

“It’s a Salvatore tradition,” Franko explained, adding extra maple syrup to his already soaking pancakes. “No tree till two days before Christmas.”

Pops waved his hand. “That American tradition of getting it on Thanksgiving is ridiculous. Families used to put trees up on Christmas Eve. They decorated them together, made a ceremony out of it.”

“People still decorate them together, Pops,” Lia pointed out.

“But they get them too early,” he said.

Sophia opened her mouth to add something, but her words turned from syllables into a long, sustained buzz. I was hundreds of miles away, trapped in a place from years ago.

My heart clenched. Nausea filled me.

I’m going to vomit. Right here at the table.

I stood quickly and ran for the doorway.

“Paige?” Angelo said from somewhere far away.

I sped down the hall and into the closest bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Going to the sink, I grabbed both sides of it and held on for dear life.

The walls spun and tilted. I kept my gaze down, focused on the sink’s drain. It became my life saver, the only thing anchoring me in reality.

My breath came short and labored. I felt in my jeans pocket for my inhaler and took a hit.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Paige?” Angelo asked. “Are you all right?”

I took another deep breath and straightened up. The pale girl in the mirror looked back at me, both of us uncertain as to what to do.

I’d broken down enough in front of Angelo. He didn’t need to see me broken up all the time. I liked Sunny Paige better. Loving Paige was great. Joking Paige was a good one too.

“Paige?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” I said in a cracked voice.

“I’m coming in.”

I straightened up, about to protest, but the door was already opening.

“What happened?” Angelo asked, coming in behind me and closing the door.

I watched him in the mirror. At least I could now look at something other than the sink. That was good.

“It just… I had a memory come back.”

He tried to hide his surprise, but his eyebrows flew up a little bit. “Of what?”

I sighed. “Of the first Christmas after my parents died… The first year that Sophia and I lived with our aunt.”

Angelo put a hand on my shoulder. “And?”

“And it sucked,” I bitterly said.

“Was this one you repressed?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“Hey,” he softly said.

I turned to face him. “She didn’t know how to deal with us. I had all my stuff going on, was probably a wreck. Sophia was…what some people would call a problem. She stayed out late, came home drunk… got into any kind of trouble I think a teenage girl can. Other than getting pregnant. She escaped that one.” I smiled slightly to lighten the mood, but Angelo didn’t buy it.

“What was Christmas like?”

“It wasn’t,” I simply said. “We didn’t celebrate it. We didn’t even get a tree.”

“That’s awful.”

I shook my head and looked at the floor. “Our aunt had her own fair share of issues. She was my mom’s sister. She didn’t even know about our parents’ involvement in the mafia until after they died. She just… I guess she knew how to deal about as much as I did.”

I looked back up just in time to see his eyes flash in anger. “Did she take out the pain of their deaths on you?”

I bit my lip. “No… but she shut down. Nothing cheerful happened in that apartment. Soph and I left the day we turned eighteen. After that, our aunt gradually stopped talking to us. It wasn’t her fault. She was just depressed. We reminded her of her sister. You could see it in her eyes, the way she seemed to relive getting the news.”

“You’re saying that because she couldn’t deal with losing her sister, she turned her back on her nieces?”

I shrugged. “Not everyone can handle tragedy the same way. Look at me. I shut it out, along with so many of my earlier memories. I don’t even know if that’s something I chose to do, or if my subconscious did it to keep me from fracturing even more.”

Angelo hugged me tight. I relaxed into his arms.

“She’s a fool,” he whispered. “And if you don’t want to go pick out a tree we don’t have to. You and I can stay here.”

“No, it’s fine.” I disengaged from his embrace and went for the door knob.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I stressed, my palm frozen on the knob. “I can handle it.”

Actually, I didn’t know that I could for sure.

But I needed to at least try.

The group went, piling into three cars and taking them to a Christmas tree stand nearby. The only trees left were small, thin ones and large, towering ones. Taking the biggest one available seemed to go without discussion. Perhaps it was a Salvatore thing.

The monolithic tree was too big to go on top of any one car, so Pops called a number to have it delivered and we went back home to wait for it to arrive.

I managed to breath evenly, and did not freak out.

At the house, we set about pulling boxes of ornaments and lights into the large living room. With the vaulted ceiling, the giant tree would be right at home.

“These are pretty,” I said, pulling out a string of white orbs.

“They’re from Italy,” Mrs. Salvatore proudly said.

The boxes seemed to go on and on, full of more decorations than any one tree, no matter how big, could possibly need. We pulled each piece out, though, and discussed the merits and disadvantages of them all. Mariel brought in some hot cider and Dominic lit a fire. The scene felt like something out of a movie.

“Oh,” Mrs. Salvatore sighed. “I forgot the box with the children’s ornaments.”

“What’s that?” Sophia asked. She’d wrapped some garland around herself, the shiny red and green stuff mimicking scarves. She looked like Liza Minelli about to ride a float in a Christmas parade.

“It’s full of ornaments the kids all made when they were little. It’s still in the back room.”

“I’ll get it,” I offered, standing up. My legs, sore and cramped from sitting on the floor for so long, were eager to move.

I went down the hallway, past the kitchen and the foyer, and into far part of the bottom floor. The very last room at the hall functioned as a storage unit. Though small, the boxes had been organized pretty well and I found the one marked ‘kids’ ornaments’ right away.

Lifting it, I hauled it back down the hall, going a bit slower thanks to the new weight.

Right before getting to the end of the hall, voices stopped me. They were coming from the foyer, and judging by the furious way words were whispered, the conversation being held was a heavy one.

I pressed my back against the wall, not quite sure what to do. I couldn’t very well walk across the foyer, but I also didn’t want to be caught looking like I was eavesdropping.

“I just don’t trust her,” came a harsh whisper. It unmistakably belonged to Lia.

“That’s your problem,” Dominic countered.

“Don’t turn this on me just because I’m looking out for Angelo.”

My chest constricted. They were talking about me.

Lia went on. “Just look at her situation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Money.”

Dominic scoffed. “She has plenty of it. Do you not remember what Moretti left her?”

“Yeah, but before that she had none. Thing about how desperate that makes a person, how greedy.”

Heat filled my cheeks. Lia was insulting me on multiple levels, and she barely knew me.

“You’re being paranoid.” Heavy footsteps sounded as Dominic walked away.

I stayed where I was, almost not caring if Lia came down the hall and found me. Her attitude was beyond necessary. It was callous. I loved Angelo. The only thing I wanted from him was some of the love back.

Lia’s own footsteps sounded, gradually fading.

Still I stayed in the hall, my hands clutching the box.

There were a lot of things that could happen. I could confront her, demand to know why she had such a bias against me. I could try to let it go and just enjoy Christmas.

Neither one of those seemed doable. Not with the pain coursing through me.

I’d tried to be nice to her. I loved Angelo. Why couldn’t Lia see that?

I blinked hard, pushing the tears back, and headed for the living room.

My mood will not be ruined. My mood will not be ruined.

Except it already had been.