STEPHANIE:

      "How's the bird coming along?" my mom asks from the other side of the kitchen, where she's checking through the cabinets, making sure no one will have to make any last-minute runs to the store.

      I open the refrigerator and pull out the bottom compartment, giving the turkey a squeeze. "It's fine," I tell her. "It should be ready to stick in the oven tomorrow without needing a bath in the sink first."

      Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and our family tradition is to have the big dinner on that day, and open two presents before bed, one of which is always a new pair of pajamas. Then on Christmas Day, we have breakfast, open the rest of the gifts, and spend the rest of the day just hanging out in the jammies, enjoying our new things and eating leftovers.

      "That's good," Grandma chimes in. "I'll mix up the marinade in a little while, and we can get it started soaking before we go to bed. That should be plenty long enough to be ready for dinner tomorrow."

      "I guess it's a good thing we're planning to just hang around the house on Christmas, because I saw the weather report a few minutes ago, and it's apparently supposed to rain most of the day." Grandpa announces, as he comes through from the living room.

      "So one of us should probably make a quick run over to Ashley's sometime tomorrow, just to make sure he hasn't got any packages on the steps," Lylah observes. "Nobody delivers on Christmas, so we shouldn't have to worry about it again until the day after."

      "Prolly be you and me then, babe," Macy responds. "Steph will be too busy helping Mom and Gran with the food, and you know they for sure don't need us for that!"

      "Macy, hon, your phone's ringing," Dad calls from the living room. "Want me to get it?"

      "I'm coming, Dad! It might be Feldy or Adam calling about work."

      She zips into the other room and grabs the phone, and starts walking back as she answers the call. "Hey, dude, Happy Holidays!" she enthuses to whoever is on the other end. "How's the trip going?"

      As she listens to the reply, the expression on her face changes, and she abruptly stops walking, almost like she's run into a wall or something. "Oh, shit!" she groans. "I mean, just... Oh, man, talk about epic-level suck!"

      "What's wrong, babe?" Lylah inquires. "Who is it, anyway?"

      She holds up her hand for everyone to be quiet, so we just stand and wait while she says, "Yeah, of course, not a problem. Just have somebody let us know when he figures out how long it'll be. Yeah, I better go, too, I gotta get Lylah and Steph up to speed. Try to have a good weekend, I'll talk to ya later."

      She ends the call, then turns on her heel, walks over to where Grandpa is standing by the sink, and flings her arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you're here," she mumbles into his shirt, then just as abruptly walks over to Grandma and does the same.

      "We're glad to be here, too, sweetheart," Grandma says. "But why don't you tell us what brought this on all of a sudden?"

      She lets out a sigh and turns to look at me and Lylah, with her head still resting on Grandma's shoulder. "That was Andy," she explains. "Ash asked him to call. His Grandad passed away this morning, so he's gonna be gone longer than he figured, and he wanted to know if we were okay to watch his place for awhile longer."

      Lylah and I just gape at her, drawing a total blank on how to respond to her words, but Mom finally murmurs, "That poor boy, he must be completely crushed. And during the holidays, too."

      "Yeah, and he just lost his Grandma a little over a year ago," Lylah informs her. "We didn't know him then, but from what I've been told, it took him awhile to get past that, too. They actually raised him from the time he was a little guy, after his parents died."

      Dad has joined us in the kitchen, and heard most of the conversation. "So you did tell him that you'd keep an eye on things for your friend while he's away, right?"

      "Yes, of course I did. That's what I said wasn't a problem."

      "Good. And if you need any help with anything, we'll all be glad to pitch in while we're here. It's bad enough that your friend has to deal with this, especially at this time of year, I'm sure he doesn't need anything else to worry about."

      We eventually manage to get around to finishing up our preparations for tomorrow, then everyone heads back to the living room to watch a couple of movies before bedtime. We get through "White Christmas", but wind up pausing "Miracle On 34th Street" when Lylah gets a phone call from her parents. Her dad is a pediatrician, her mom is an orthopedic surgeon, and they've been in Haiti with the Doctors Without Borders program for the last few months. Since the phone service is pretty spotty where they are, she wasn't sure if she'd hear from them, but they managed to get a decent signal and decided to call while they had the chance. She and Macy speak with them for several minutes, until the call starts cutting out, and then we finish the movie.

      Afterwards, everyone decides to call it a night, so I head to my room, change into a nightshirt, and put my phone on the charger. I start to get into bed, then turn back to my phone and look to find Ashley's number. I'm pretty certain he won't want to talk to anyone right now, so I just send him a quick text telling him how sorry I am, and telling him not to worry about anything here, because we'll take care of everything for as long as he needs.

      I crawl under my covers, and reach over to the nightstand to pick up the book I'm currently reading, which is "Monster Hunter International", the first one of the paperbacks Ash gave me at the party the other day. I start reading, and when I'm about halfway through the first chapter, I hear my phone go off, letting me know that I have a text. I take it from the charger and tap to see the message, which consists of only three words:

      "Thank you, friend."

      I read for a bit longer, then turn off the light and lay down. As I try to get to sleep, I can't keep from thinking about the holiday, and how it's never going to be quite the same for Ash after this. And I know it might be sort of silly, but it actually makes me almost feel guilty for having my family here, and being able to enjoy spending time with them. I wish I could do something to help him, and I'm sure everyone else does, too, but I have no clue what it could be.

      Then, when I'm finally starting to drift off, an idea pops into my head. Granted, nothing I can do will change the situation, but I can give him one less thing to worry about when he comes home. I reach out and grab the notepad off of my nightstand and scribble a quick note to myself, so I don't forget. Then I scrunch back into the pillows and try to get comfortable again, and get a good night's sleep. Since it seems like I'm going to be pretty busy for the next few days, I'm going to need it.

                ********************************************************************************

January 9th, 2017

ASHLEY:

      I unlock my front door and step into the house, with CC following behind me. I took an taxi to the airport when I left, so when I got ahold of everyone to let them know I was heading back, he offered to pick me up and bring me home. We drop my bags in the living room, and I start leafing through the mail that's laying on the coffee table, checking to see if anything needs to be dealt with immediately, while CC heads to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

      I'm sorting the envelopes into piles when I hear him call out, "Hey, dude! You should probably come check this out!"

      I wander into the kitchen, and find him standing in front of the fridge, looking at a sheaf of paper that's stuck to the freezer door with a magnet. "Looks like you don't have to worry about shopping right away, man," he observes. I pull it off of the door and as I flip through the stack, I realize that it's a printed list of various foods, with instructions for cooking them.

      I open the freezer, and find that it's been loaded with a variety of Tupperware containers and foil baking dishes, with the contents written on each one. CC starts moving them around, looking at the labels. "Chicken enchiladas, potato soup, breakfast casserole, orange chicken, turkey chili... Dude, you won't need to order out for a couple of weeks, at least. Heck, you've even got biscuits and cookie dough in here!"

      I grab my phone and punch Macy's number, looking through the containers until I hear, "Hey, Ash! How are you feeling?"

      "As well as can be expected, thanks. I just got home, and it seems that the Freezer Fairy has paid me a little visit. Should I assume that you had something to do with that?"

      She starts laughing so hard that she snorts, and replies, "Have we met? Dude, I actually like you, so I'm sure as hell not gonna try to cook for you! Check out your yard, Lylah and I took care of that, but the food is mostly Steph. Grandma made up a batch of her jambalaya while she was here, and I'm pretty sure you've got some of Mom's French toast and snickerdoodle cookie dough lurking in there somewhere, but Steph did the rest of it. She said that was the only thing she could think of doing that might help out a little, to make sure you ate decently, and cut down on stuff that you'd need to worry about."

      "You guys are pretty great, y'know that? Tell Steph I said thanks, I really appreciate it." Then, after I think about it for a second, I say, "Actually, never mind that. I'll catch her later and do it myself."

      We talk for another couple of minutes, then she has to go take care of something for Feldy, so I end the call and go out to see about the yard. CC follows me out, and we find out that not only did they mow the lawn, but they also trimmed the bushes, took care of the bird feeders I have in the back, and straightened up the patio.

      "Hell, I just asked them to bring in the mail, I definitely didn't expect all this," I say. "I really need to think of some way to say thanks."

      "Well, we all know that Macy and Lylah both love the flavored popcorn from that place downtown," CC observes. "I have no clue about Steph, but Alice would probably know."

      He has a point there, so I give her a quick call, and find out that they had frequented a similar store in London, and what kinds Steph prefers, so I have my solution.

      CC gets ready to head out, but just before he gets to the door, he smacks himself in the forehead and exclaims, "Dude, I almost forgot! I think I may have figured out your little puzzle the other day."

      "What 'puzzle' are you talking about?"

      "Remember the conversation we had that day you were so hung over? What you said about Steph reminding you of someone? Well, I was helping my mom move some things around over Christmas, and I saw something that might explain it."

      He whips out his phone and plays with it for a minute, then holds it in front of my face, displaying a picture of a brunette woman in a flowered dress. I look at it, and not only does she look very familiar, she also bears a rather striking resemblance to Stephanie. They're not identical, of course, because her hair  is darker, and her eyes are blue-ish, instead of brown. But their features are very similar, especially the mouth and the shape of the face.

      "Okay, I know that I've seen this chick somewhere, but I'm drawing a blank right now," I tell him. "So how about helping me out here?"

      "This is Carly Simon, circa nineteen seventy-something," he replies. "We were going through a bunch of old records they had in the hall closet, and when I saw her album covers, it just sort of clicked."

      I check out the image again, and acknowledge, "Yeah, that could be it, I guess. I remember one of my aunts listening to her stuff sometimes, so maybe I saw one of the record jackets at some point and sort of filed it away in the back of my brain."

      I give his phone back, and he takes off, leaving me to convince myself to go downtown. I'd really rather just hole up here in the house, but I know that won't work for long, because there are too many things that I have to do. Plus, if I allow myself to just hide out, there's too much chance of repeating the studio incident, and I don't want to do that anymore. Not that I'm planning to become a complete teetotaler anytime soon, but I have to admit that there's a big difference between having a good time, and risking my life or somebody else's.

      I put a bowl of the chili in the fridge to thaw for my lunch tomorrow, then go out to the car and head down to the popcorn shop. I have them put together three different cans, with flavors I know the girls like, and after I pay for them I work my way through town to their house, pulling up to the curb to make sure I don't block anyone in if they need to go somewhere.

      I grab the cans out of the seat and go up to the door, using my elbow to ring the doorbell. I hear footsteps clacking across the floor, and just a few seconds after I hit the bell, Lylah opens the door. She reaches out and grabs one of the cans. "Dude, let me help you with that. Come on in, and I'll get Macy."

      I step into the living room, and she sets the can on one of the end tables, saying, "Just drop those here and have a seat, I'll be back in a sec!" As I walk over to the couch, I hear her moving down the hall and calling out, "Hey, babe, come to the living room, we've got a visitor!"

      They come back down the hall, and both of them instantly fling their arms around me, so we're having a group hug. I give them both a squeeze, then we all sit down, and I reach out and pick up two of the cans, handing one to each of them. "I just thought I'd stop by for a few, and bring you something to say thanks for all your help the past couple of weeks."

      "Ash, you didn't need to get us anything," Macy informs me. "You asked us to keep an eye on things, and that's what we did."

      "Yeah, that's what friends do, remember?" Lylah adds.

      "I know, but the three of you kind of went above and beyond, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate it. Nothing fancy here, but I know it's something you'll enjoy."

      Macy pops the lid on her can and peeks in, "Ooh, bacon cheddar, buffalo wing, and dill pickle! I love you, Ash, you're an amazing human being!"

      "Well, let's see here," Lylah says as she opens hers. "Mmm, cappucino, butterscotch, and cheesecake. Yup, I have to agree with that assessment. And I'm guessing that the purple can is for Steph, right?"

      "Yeah, is she here?"

      Lylah points toward the sliding-glass doors and says, "She's out in the workshop painting some stuff. You can take hers out there if you want, I'm pretty sure she won't mind."

      "Yeah, and that'll give you a chance to see some of her stuff, too," Macy adds. "We all know how much you enjoy having the opportunity to see new artwork."

      I stay and chat with them for a few more minutes, then pick up the can and walk outside, crossing the backyard to the gardening shed that Steph had remodeled to use as her studio. There is some pretty loud music coming from inside, so I rap on the door, and the volume goes down a couple of notches. "Is somebody there?" I hear her yell.

      "Yeah, it's me," I call back. "I was just visiting with Macy and Lylah, and they said it was okay to come out here."

      "Oh, absolutely! Come on in, dude!"

      I step inside, and see her getting up from a chair on the other side of the room, so I start walking toward her. But she meets me about halfway there and wraps me up in a huge hug, saying, "Hello, Ash, it's so nice to see you! How are you doing?"

      "Well, I didn't drink myself into a stupor, if that's what you're asking, although I was tempted."

      "No, that's not what I meant at all, but it is good to know. I actually mean, how do you feel? We all know this is a lot for you to deal with, and we just want to be sure that you're okay."

      She motions to a chair, so I sit down and take a minute to sort out my thoughts. "How do I actually feel? A bit numb right now, to be completely honest. Things change from one minute to the next, because at one point I'm glad that he's at peace, and not in pain anymore, and then the next second I'm feeling completely selfish and wishing that I had them both back."

      She nods, and seems to hesitate for a second before she responds. "I think that's completely normal under the circumstances. I remember how it seemed like a bit of a relief when my Grampy died, because he was hurting so much, but at the same time, I didn't want him to go, because he was basically the one that took care of me, and I didn't want to be by myself."

      This sounds a bit odd, considering how I've heard her and Macy talk about their folks, so I decide to just be nosy and ask, "Why do you say that? I had the impression that you guys got along pretty well with your parents."

      She just looks at me for a bit, twirling a paintbrush between her fingers, before she finally puts it down and says, "So I'm guessing that Macy didn't let you guys in on the fact that I'm adopted, huh?"

      Okay, now I'm even more confused, because that doesn't seem to fit with what she told us before. "No, she didn't say anything about that. But I have to tell you that I'm a bit confused here, because she said once that she and your brother look like your dad, but that you look like your mom. So how is that possible if you're not actually related?"

      Giving me a small smile, she says, "Because we are. Technically, Macy and Max are my cousins, since Mom is my egg donor's younger sister. They adopted me when I was sixteen, and I'm pretty certain that the only thing anyone has ever regretted about it was that nobody came up with the idea sooner. Hell, from what my lawyer told me, the original set basically said as much."

      "So your parents are still alive, but they were okay with someone else adopting you? Why, if you don't mind my asking?"

      "Because I had the absolute nerve to not be a boy," she states. "And I don't refer to them as my parents, at best they were donors. Truthfully, I try not to refer to them at all, if I can help it."

      "So, your grandpa that you mentioned, was that his dad or hers?"

      "His. Mom's folks are still around, they were actually here for Christmas, too. From what I was told, he overheard them trying to set up an appointment for an abortion, and threatened to disinherit both of them if they went through with it. So needless to say, he wound up being mostly responsible for me, until he got too sick to do it anymore."

      I'm pretty sure that my jaw is probably hanging down to my navel, because I have no idea how she can be so matter-of-fact about something like that. I can't even imagine how it must feel not to be wanted by your parents. I don't have a lot of clear memories of mine, but the ones that I do have make me absolutely sure that I was loved, and the stories I've heard from the rest of my family confirm it.

      "How old were you when he...?"

      "I was nine. That was basically the end of anything resembling a 'normal' childhood, too, because after he was gone, so were the birthday parties, Christmases, pretty much anything that kids enjoy. Without him there, I was just an inconvenience that they had to put up with, and provide basic upkeep for, so the neighbors wouldn't talk about them."

      I'm not sure how to respond to something like this, the only thing I can come up with is, "Just... wow! I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Steph, nobody should be treated like that, especially not a little kid. I guess we're both luckier than some, though, because we had family who was willing to step in and take care of us."

      "Yeah, that's true," she agrees. "My circumstances were totally different than yours, but we both kind of wound up in the same position, with grandparents basically being the center of our world. So I'm not going to claim that I know exactly how you're feeling right now, but I do understand the feeling of... being adrift, I guess. Feeling like your anchor is gone, and not knowing where you're going to end up."

      "I guess that we have more in common than I thought," I tell her. "And I hope this doesn't sound bad, but it kind of makes me feel a little better to know that I have someone else to talk to, aside from Andy and Jake, who actually understands."

      "Yeah, I know what you mean. And anytime you want to talk, just give me a call, or drop by."

      "That goes both ways," I tell her. Then I remember the can sitting on my lap and extend it toward her. "I almost forgot, I brought you something."

      She takes it from me and pops the lid. "Oh, this looks delish! You didn't need to get me anything, but thank you, anyway."

      "Hell, you stocked my kitchen with enough food to last through a siege, so this was the least I could do," I reply. "Hope I got the flavors right, I had to call Alice for ideas."

      "Root beer, confetti, and vanilla. Oh, yeah, I can work with this," she says, popping a couple of pieces into her mouth. She extends the can toward me, saying, "Try some, it's really good. The dark blue is blueberry, and the light blue is coconut, if that makes any difference."

      "What about the pink stuff?"

      She snags one of those, and after a second, replies, "That's watermelon."

      I have a few pieces, then she puts away the can and we resume our conversation. We've been talking for a few minutes when there's a tap on the door, and Lylah calls out. "Hey, Ash, are you still in here?"

      "Yeah, I'm here! What's up?"

      She opens the door and comes inside, saying, "I just had a call from Dane, he was wondering if I'd heard whether the Thursday shoot is still on. I told him that I'd check with you and call him back. So are you good, or would you rather postpone?"

      I think about it for a minute, then tell her, "Yeah, we're still on. I have to get back to work sometime, so this is as good a time as any. And I want to get the new campaign off the ground, before someone gets ahead of me with the idea. So make sure all the models know that they actually need to show up."

      We hash out some of the details, and as she gets ready to head back to the house, an idea pops into my head. "Hey, Steph, if you're not too busy Thursday, why don't you come along with Lylah? I can give you a tour of the place, and you can watch Lylah wrangle the models, sort of get an idea what we both do."

      "Yeah, that sounds cool, if you're sure I won't get in the way," she answers. "It's always interesting to get an up-close look at someone's art."

      We both assure her that it won't be an issue, and Lylah takes off. I decide that I should probably head out, too, but as I get up from the chair, my brain finally registers the virtual explosion of color around me. I glance around at at the shelves that Steph has filled with her work, and something instantly catches my eye. I walk over to get a closer look, and she seems sort of startled when I say, "Stephanie, this is absolutely fucking amazing! Would you consider letting me buy it?"

      She seems to be considering it, so I'm totally surprised when she says, "No, I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Ash."

NOTE: The picture at the top is the one that CC shows to Ash. It's not exactly a face claim, but it's the closest I can get to how I visualize her.