onto my parents’ street, I saw cars lining both sides of the road.

My brother Mark’s SUV was parked near the garage. My aunt’s sedan sat behind it, and several cousins had arrived early.

Through the front windows, I could see the Christmas tree glowing.

For a moment, I let myself imagine a peaceful afternoon.

We would eat together.

The children would open presents.

Someone would take pictures of Lily beneath the tree.

Perhaps my mother would hold her granddaughter and tell her how beautiful she was.

Perhaps we would