The Collins family Christmas was exactly what I expected: loud, loving, and completely overwhelming. There were so many nieces and nephews I had never met before, and everyone seemed to defer the holiday to celebrate the engagement instead. The first chance I got, I slipped away to my former office for a moment of peace. A flair of anxiety erupted within me. If being in a house of my soon-to-be family made me hide, what about the tour?

"Hey," Jackson tentatively said from the doorway. "Mind if I hide with you?"

"Never, come in," I eagerly prompted.

"How was Maine?" Jackson asked as he settled on the couch next to me.

"It was good." My tight smile wasn't convincing. "It was a mix. Some highs," I flashed my ring. "And there were some lows."

"My dad seems," Jackson collected his words, "more confident. Probably because you said yes," Jackson noted.

"We had a lot of good discussions while we were away. I think we know where we are and where we want to go," I explained. "How was your holiday? How did the big present go?"

"She cried." Jackson let out a snort of a laugh. "I think it was because she liked it and not because it made her ears bleed," he added with a shrug.

"I'm sure it was because she loved it. You know, your dad played a song for your mom when he was around your age, and she also cried. When he saw what he had done, he almost gave up music."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm, but then it was Mary that set him on a path to make music his career."

"I'm not looking to make any career choices," he cautioned.

"Smart," I agreed as my mind filtered back to the tour.

"What are you worrying about?" Jackson asked as he inspected my face, just as his father would frequently do.

I wiped away the thoughts with a genuine smile at the person Billy and Sarah had raised. "Nothing, it's fine."

"You don't want to tell me because I'm a kid?"

"No," I immediately blurted. "I'm just a little nervous about the tour. If a house full of family makes me run away, what will a stadium of strangers do?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Touring is pretty decent for introverts. Says the introvert," he laughed.

"Really? All those people every night?"

"Yeah, I mean, there are a lot of people there, but you only come into contact with the same twenty people. All the people working on the tour become a second family. They all have embarrassing stories of Viv and me when we were kids that they love to share."

"Oh, well, that sounds fun," I teased, but my mind drifted to panic attacks from nearly twenty years ago.

"Still worried?"

"Unfortunately, as much fun as embarrassing stories sound, I have some memories of touring as well. They aren't as fond," I admitted.

"Have you talked to my dad about it?"

"No, not yet. Honestly, with the holidays and everything, I haven't spent much time thinking about it."

"I knew you two would be in here," Viv shot from the door before entering and plopping down next to Jackson. "Hiding?"

"Just catching up," I offered. "How was your holiday?"

"Good. Jackson made mom cry, so that was hilarious." Viv gave Jackson a nudge with his elbow.

"Anything else you want to share with the room?" One of Jackson's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead.

"No," Viv's tone turned severe at his prodding.

"Not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole," I added.

"Mmhmm, only a matter of time. Tick, tick, tick," he teased as he repeatedly poked Viv's shoulder.

"Shut up, Klopplebaum," Viv shot back.

"Wow, bringing out the heavy name-calling," Billy chuckled from the door. "What did I stumble upon, aside from my nearest and dearest hiding?"

"Nothing," Viv quickly shot. "I'm going to go find James." She was off the couch and blowing past Billy in the blink of an eye.

"It is me, or is my eldest child avoiding me?" Billy asked the room.

"I'm pleading the fifth," Jackson said with raised hands. "But I'm also going to vacate the room before you try to lead the witness." Jackson followed Viv.

"Do I smell?" Billy asked as he sat beside me and pulled my legs over his lap.

"Not to me, but maybe I'm immune," I suggested.

"So, why are you here having a secondary party of your own?" Billy absently slipped one of my shoes off and rubbed my foot.

"Just a little overwhelmed with the attention, even if it's joyous," I admitted.

"Mmhmm, even I'm dizzy. Is everything okay with Timmy? I mean, I know everything got settled, but it was..."

"Emotional? Yeah, we're good."

"We can head out soon. I just have to play a couple of songs, but I didn't want to play without you." Billy bowed his head to kiss my temple.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm very predictable," I offered before slipping my shoe back on and pulling myself from his lap.

"Mmhmm, predictable. That's what they always say about you."

I turned to head for the door, but Billy caught my elbow.

"Hey," he whispered as I turned into his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Why am I worried about you?" He asked as he inspected my face.

"Because you're Billy Collins," I murmured as my hand lifted to cup his face. "And I'm Lily Turncott."

"Will it always be like this?" He pressed.

"No, sometimes it'll be worse. We won't be able to stand the sight or sound of each other. And other times, it'll be better. But we'll have them all together."

"The two of us," he agreed.

"Mmhmm, I'd say that's more like the four, five, eight of us," I teased.

"Those Dennings are a hard family to shake," he agreed.

"And yet, we muddle through somehow. Thank goodness for Mary."

"Okay," Billy directed, as he entered the living room. "Who's ready for a Collins family sing-along?"

"Can we unplug Viv's mic?" Jackson teased.

Viv responded by sticking her tongue out at Jackson as Billy slid onto the piano bench while I nestled between Jackson and Timmy on the couch.

"This bench is lonely," Billy muttered as his brow furrowed.

Mary glanced at me, expecting me to pop up.

"Hey, this is your family tradition," I shot.

Mary let out a pleased smile before joining her son on the piano bench. Years of tradition had pre-selected the song list. I'll be Home for Christmas, Little Drummer Boy, and Silent Night all rolled along from years of practice. As a rousing version of Must Be Santa fell out, Mary left her son's side.

"It's time for some new traditions," she announced.

Billy's eyes shyly lifted to mine. The adolescent songs he had been playing since he was Jackson's age filled him. In the blurred years, he had slipped back to the timid boy that just wanted to be seen outside a dive bar. It drew me to him, to his side.

"What can I play for you?" His voice was so low, and his face so close to my ear that I was sure no one else had heard.

"I want to hear what you want to play me," I whispered back.

For all his talent and skill, Billy Collins always knew when to play a simple song. Slowly and carefully, his fingers glided across the keys as Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas filled the room. His voice was delicate, as though it could crack at any moment, but somehow it was reassuring. The golden days behind us were also ahead of us.

I let my head fall to his shoulder and closed my eyes, focusing on the twitch of his muscles as he played and the song that filled the room. I almost didn't notice it peter out, but his tender kiss on the top of my head pulled me back to the living room with dozens of eyes on us. But I didn't notice them. When I opened my eyes, it was just Billy; close, strong, and careful.

"I love you," I whispered to him.

"Let's go home," he murmured back.