Jazz kicked the snow off her boots and closed the door behind her before too much cold air followed her into the Reed family home.

“Merry Christmas!” she cried, ripping off her jacket to display the ugliest Christmas sweater she’d donned yet. The green and red striped sweater had tinsel fringe at the neckline and hem, and the front donned a giant Rudolph head, complete with a light-up nose.

Nathan rushed over to give her a kiss. His sweater featured Frosty the Snowman smoking a bong instead of his traditional pipe. Neither of them had ever touched marijuana, but they found the sweater absolutely hilarious.

She laughed at the sight of her boyfriend in his naughty holiday gear, then asked, “Where’s the mistletoe?”

“C’mon, I don’t need mistletoe to kiss my best girl.”

She shook her finger at him playfully. “I better be your only girl.”

Jazz spotted her mom settled in the living room beside Mrs. Reed. The two moms, who had been casual friends and neighbors, had become inseparable once their children had started dating. Everyone assumed they would one day be in-laws and decided to start acting the part sooner rather than waiting for later.

“Twinsies!” Nathan’s mom cried, jumping to her feet and pointing to Jazz’s sweater and then her own where the same over-the-top reindeer smiled out from atop the knit pattern.

“And to think, I almost got the same Frosty the stoner sweater as Nate,” her mom joked. She wore the most modest sweater of them all. Hers was homemade with a variety of pins, brooches, ribbons, and bows crowding the surface. Despite the chaos, hers was more stylish than anyone else’s.

Jazz rolled her eyes as she pictured her mom in the ridiculous snowman sweater. “Yeah, sure you did.”

Nathan and the three women laughed it off until his father entered the room with two fingers of scotch and a generous helping of rocks rattling about in his glass. He wore a Mets jersey and a dour expression. His ruddy cheeks implied that this was not his first drink of the day, while his scowl suggested it wouldn’t be the last.

Jazz cringed as she always did whenever she saw the elder Reed. Nathan had confided so much in her over the years that she also felt personally wronged by the man even though he was generally pleasant with her.

“The director called. Seems I’m needed for a conference call with Beijing.”

Nathan’s mother sighed. “But, Benjy, it’s Christmas.”

“The world doesn’t stop just because we put some lights on a tree,” he grumbled.

Jazz’s eyes shot to Nathan, who stood shaking his head. She knew how much Christmas meant to Nathan’s mother, who never missed mass on Sundays, even if it meant going alone. To her, the holiday meant so much more than “lights on a tree.”

Nathan’s mom wiped her palms across the lap of her khakis, maintaining eye contact with her husband despite her obvious nerves. “Yes, but maybe you could. Just for one day?”

“Drop it,” he warned. “We don’t need to cause a scene in front of the neighbors.”

“It’s fine, really,” Jazz’s mother said, patting Nathan’s mom on the hand and giving her a sympathetic look. She and Jazz had talked about Nathan’s family situation. Despite their difficulties at first, they’d grown thankful over the years that her father had left. Better to struggle on their own than live every moment waiting for the other shoe—or fist—to drop.

In the Reed household, one shoe was always suspended high in the air, ready to crash down to earth.

“Dad, it’s important to mom,” Nathan whispered, unwilling to look his father in the eye.

Benjy Reed laughed. “Yeah, and so is the money my job brings in. You can’t have it both ways.”

“It’s fine, Nathan. Just let it go,” his mother pleaded.

“Mrs. Reed, do you need any help in the kitchen?” Jazz wanted desperately to break the tension. She knew how his father’s actions affected Nathan, but his mother rarely let her disappointment show. Still, how could she not be hurting after that? Maybe Jazz could make her day better.

“That would be lovely, dear. Let’s go see how that turkey’s doing.”

“Is everything okay?” Jazz asked, once the two of them were safely out of earshot from the others.

“It’s fine, really. He’s right. Work is important.”

“But so is family, tradition, the holidays.”

Nathan’s mother shuffled through the utensil drawer, then closed it without taking anything out.

“Thank you for having me and my mom over for Jesus’s birthday,” Jazz said, moving toward the junk drawer. “Speaking of, do you have any candles?”

“Sure. What do you need them for?”

“I figured while Mr. Reed is on his call, we could light birthday candles and sing a few carols. Start a new tradition. What do you say?”

“I say… Nathan is lucky to have you in his life,” she said, first handing Jazz a tiny pack of candles and then giving her a tight hug.

“No, Mrs. Reed. I’m the lucky one.” And it was true. Nathan was every birthday candle and every shooting star’s promise realized.