Bree is over the moon excited when we return to my mom’s apartment. She launches herself at Tyler through the doorway.

“Nana says you get us a big tree!”

My eyes dart to the corner near the fireplace. It’s empty, although my mother’s already pushed aside the winged chair and fake ficus tree to make room. She’s probably talking about the old plastic tree she pulls out year after year. Some of the wires for the branches have been bent and unbent to the point of breaking.

Tyler allows Bree to hug his legs, but he doesn’t pick her up. Good for him. He must know he needs permission from me before showing her affection.

I hoist Bree into my arms and tap her nose. “Why would Ty get you a tree? Nana already has one in the closet.”

She crosses her little arms and juts her chin. “Nana says Father Chwistmas give big tree.”

“Of course he does.” I humor her and don’t point out that Tyler is not Father Christmas, far from it.

Last year, before I was arrested and jailed, we had a Fraser fir tree and ornaments from Tiffany’s in crystal and silver, trimmed with their signature robin’s egg blue ribbons.

Mother waves a list in Tyler’s face. “Jaden will drive all of us to the tree farm. While we’re there, I have things for you to fix.”

I know she’s been wanting a son-in-law, but this is too much. Tyler is a virtual stranger.

“Wait, what’s going on here?” I don’t want to seem obvious, but if we’re all going to the Christmas tree farm, Tyler will be alone in the apartment.

Mother blinks in a way that tells me she’s up to something. “You’re coming to the tree farm, aren’t you? Bree wants a real tree, just like last year.”

“That was in New York.”

Bree squirms in my arms to be let down. “I want real tree. Nana pwo-mised.”

“Sure, sweetie, wait here for a minute?” I need to speak to Mother in private, so I guide her toward the kitchen.

As soon as the door closes, I whisper, “Why’s he fixing things in your apartment alone?”

“Someone has to stay behind with the roast in the oven.” Mama crosses her arms and juts her chin the same way Bree did a few minutes earlier. “He agreed to help me out. It’s a lot easier for a tall man to change light bulbs and smoke alarm batteries than for me or you to bring out the step ladder and struggle with it.”

“Jaden can help.” I refer to Ella’s tall soccer goalkeeper boyfriend.

“Pfuh.” Mama flaps her hand. “Jaden doesn’t need the money. His parents own half of Silicon Valley.”

“Oh, wait. Did you give him money already?”

“A small advance. I have lots I need worked on.” Mother bobs her head. “Oh, I hear the door. That must be Jaden and Ella.”

Of all the confounded interference. Steam practically hisses through my nostrils. I don’t need her manipulation, as if it’s not bad enough already with Bree fixated on Tyler.

I haven’t even processed that kiss. What the heck was that about? After the Ferry building, Tyler and I walked along the Embarcadero and found a “Make Your Own Monster Puppet” kit for Bree. I also bought scented candles for Mother and a hairclip made with parrot plumage for Ella. Neither he, nor I, said half a word to each other on the way back, probably both lost in our thoughts. Talk about awkward.

Jaden pops into the kitchen with a stack of takeout containers. “You guys leaving now or will I have time to heat something up?”

“Go ahead. Bree needs to go potty and get her gear on.” I follow Mother out of the kitchen.

“Mama, come on, come on.” Bree bounces, tugging my hand.

Ella finishes snapping the buttons on Bree’s jacket and pats her head. “You get to pick the tree. Ready?”

“Except she needs to potty.” I can’t believe I have to undo the jacket and rain pants, but my sister’s not a mother so what does she know about getting a child ready for an outing?

I don’t dare look at Tyler. He’s staring at the family pictures in front of the fireplace. This is all too cozy, like he belongs here with us.

I walk Bree past him toward the bathroom. A loud popping and hissing sound comes from the kitchen.

“Get down.” Tyler lunges at Bree, knocks her to the ground, and crouches behind the couch, his hands in position as if around a machine gun.

Bree’s head thumps the floor, and she let’s out a yelp.

My baby! I rush to pick her up and check her head.

“Owie, owie,” she says, but I can tell she’s not hurt as much as startled. “I have a big bump like in the cartoons.”

I peek at Tyler. He stands frozen behind the couch, his fists clenched and his posture slumped. He has to go past all of us to get to the front door, and I bet he’s hoping we don’t notice him as he slinks out.

“What happened?” Mother opens the kitchen door. “Did something blow up?”

Jaden steps out with a plate of sausage and rice. “That was the microwave.”

“I saw everything,” Ella says. “Tyler freaked out when the sausage popped. He was protecting Bree.”

Refraining from a snide remark, I rub Bree’s head to see if she’s hurt. Tyler must be mortified. How horrible it is for him to not be in complete control of his actions. But however bad I feel for him, I can’t risk my daughter’s safety. What if he went into a full blown panic attack and thought she was the enemy?

He moves past me and Bree, his face still downcast. “I’m sorry. I have to go now.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Mother corrals him near the door. “It’s quite all right. Everyone’s fine. Besides, I paid you already for the handyman stuff. So you still have your list to do.”

“You sure?” Tyler rubs the back of his neck. His eyes light up, as if hoping against hope that everyone would think he’s normal.

“Of course. I’ll also need you to pull the candlesticks out from the storage unit downstairs and polish them.” Mother smiles and pats his arm. “After you’re done with that, we should be back with the tree, and you can help us with the lights and ornaments.”

Ugh. I don’t get Mother. Is she so kind hearted she wants him to feel useful, or is she still trying to play Cupid? And seriously, I don’t see how she can leave him alone in her apartment. If a popping microwave can freak him out, what’s to say we don’t come back and find him setting fire to the place because he saw enemy combatants?

That does it. If Tyler’s staying, I’ll have to stick around to make sure he’s safe.

“Bree?” I kiss her and smooth her hair. “Mama’s going to stay here and help Ty clean Nana’s place. You stay with Auntie Ella, okay? No running off.”

“No running off. I pwo-mise. Santa says if I good girl, I get a papa for Chwistmas.”