AmyPressing pause.
Good-bye kisses.
My strength.
I make it through dinner with a simple inquiry from my dad, asking if I feel all right. Once I assured him that I do, the topic was dismissed. We’re now in the food-induced coma between Christmas Eve dinner and dessert where everyone breaks off to do their own thing. Our fathers are in the media room, lounged back in recliners in front of the big screen, watching ESPN. Jax and Lily disappeared somewhere. They’re always off, playing some sort of a game designed just for the two of them. My mom, Landon’s mom—Susie—and Keeley finished cleaning up and are sitting at the kitchen table, gossiping—the moms with coffees in hand, Keeley making one of her complex bracelets out of tiny multicolored rubber bands.
Landon exits through the back door,
