My alarm goes off at six and my phone is not near me but on Cas's side. Cas hasn't budged and he's lying on my arm, which has gone numb and he looks peaceful so I don't want to wake him, but the alarm won't stop and my arm is getting all tingly.

     "What in god's name is that?" he croaks after maybe the third round on the alarm. "And why won't it stop."

     "My alarm," I say. "It's on your side."

     Cas doesn't open his eyes but he rolls over and reaches out towards the sound, knocking my phone onto the floor. He groans. "This is hell. I'm in hell." I watch, amused, as he tips over the edge of the bed and finally silences the alarm.

     "Six a.m., Dres? Seriously? Do you want me to smother you?"

     "I have to take the turkeys out of the oven."

     "And then we go back to bed?"

     "And then I go to Weston's to finish cooking."

     "These are not nice words."

     "You can stay," I say. "You don't have to come with me, you know."

     "Really? No, I couldn't — okay, if you insist." Cas rolls back over, and I think he's out already. Just like that. I've always been jealous of the ease with which he can go to sleep.

      I get up, pulling out some sweatpants and a hoodie from my dresser before I go downstairs, taking the turkey's out. They're a perfect golden brown, smelling fragrant. The whole house smells like holiday. I feel good. I feel hopeful. That may just be the remnants of the endorphins from last night, though.

     I put on my sneakers and then harness Delta and Charlie before taking them on a walk that quickly turns into a run. It's warm outside, the perfect weather for snow, but it's sunny out so I don't think we're going to get any. When I get back, I feed the dogs and then head upstairs to shower. Cas is sprawled across my bed like a starfish. I want to get back into bed with him. I want to stay there forever. But that's not realistic.

     I shower and then change into black trousers and faintly-striped white button-up. I cuff my pants and put on some dress shoes. I leave a post-it for Cas on his phone.

     There's nothing I really need to say but I like the idea of him waking in my bed without me but a note waiting for him. Maybe that's the kind of boyfriend I would've been if we'd ever gotten there, to him living with me. I'd leave early, have breakfast cooked and waiting for him downstairs, and a note that would say, Be safe or Have a good day at work or Can't wait to see you tonight.

     But I write, Don't burn my house down and then I leave.

     Cooking has always been good stress relief. And in the quiet morning, playing my favorite songs, I'm able to distance myself from last night even though I can still feel Cas exactly where he's been.

     Amelia, Dolores, and Charles show up at eleven and start helping me set up. By then everything has been cooked and now it's a matter of moving furniture and getting the food out.

     I shift enough tables together to make one long one. I dress it in an ivory linen table cloth and then set out plates. Dolores bought over her good china, because according to Amelia, my rustic dishes from Weston's After Hours wouldn't match the table setting. Dolores's china is ancient, these heavy dishes that come in a set with a large plate and smaller ones and a bowl for salad or soup, maybe. And then the cutlery is gold. Actually gold, like this is medieval times.

     Amelia's handling the decorations, setting up pumpkins and fall themed centerpieces on the table as well as the serving tables.

     At noon, I start moving the food to the buffet tables I've set up. I have heated serving trays since we're not likely to eat for another two hours. Everyone is supposed to start coming at one. Amelia takes over the drinks table. She used to part time as a bartender so she's made two cocktails for the evening — the dirty bird and Thank Me Later. I think both are designed to get you absolutely smashed and that's about it.

     I sniff the Thank Me Later, scenting cranberry and peach — peach schnapps, maybe? Definitely vodka. I'm hesitant to try it but somebody's got to be poison control. "Stop acting like its arsenic," Amelia calls as she walks over. "It's delicious." She's holding a glass of the other drink, Dirty Bird, that's a suspicious orange-red shade. It could be apple cider, since there's a cinnamon stick floating in it, but I'm imagining there's also enough alcohol in her glass to drown a sailor. 

     I take a sip and it's not bad. Which I think makes it more poisonous. You could drink five of these, easy. "What kind of day are we going to have if everyone's drunk?" I ask.

     "A good one," she says with a shrug. "Do you seriously think you're gonna be able to stand fielding all the questions from Cas's family sober?"

     I actually really hadn't thought about it but now that she's mentioned I'm nearly certain that I can't. I'm also thinking that since I'm still taking Tylenol for my arm I can't even really drink.

     Amelia laughs. "Don't freak out, ok? It'll be fine."

     I wonder how I'm actually going to survive this day.

     It happens that I'm putting out the dessert when Cas and his family get there. I was hoping to be hiding in the kitchen when they got here so I could mentally prepare before facing everyone.

     Cas walks in first and I halt and it's like I've forgotten what he looks like. No, that's not it. I remember what he looks like but maybe I only remember what he looks like when we're in the dim light, and he's not really dressed or he's half-dressed. He's not any of that now. He's standing in the natural light, wearing this creamy white waffled sweater and grey pants that fit unimaginably well. He trimmed his facial hair and his hair is soft and tousled. It's too much. I'm demolished, completely side-tracked by it, almost drop the pie in my hands. Distracted, I set it down on the stand and then rub my sweaty palms on my slacks.

     Dolores and Amelia cross the room first, greeting Cas and his mother and his grandparents and his cousins jovially. The last time I'd seen Cas's cousins, they'd been so small. Maddox is a boy now. He must be ten. He's tall, meeting Cas's shoulder nearly. He looks like his mother, Suki, with an angelic face and large dark eyes.

     I know that I have to move, that I have to say something. I walk over stiffly, panic hitting like a ten ton crane. Cas sees me and wraps an around Maddox, steering him towards me. I'm half-expecting him to come up and step on my foot or gut punch, however ten year olds make their point. Maybe yell at me for being awful to Cas.

     "Hey, it's Finn!" Maddox cries.

     "It's Dres, Maddox," Cas says confused. "Who's Finn?"

     "He's Finn," Maddox says pointedly. "You know, and you were Poe."

     Cas gives me this look, a question of whether I know what Maddox is talking about, which I don't. I shrug, subtly. "Ohhhh," Cas says, his tone suggesting he's realized something. "Finn and Poe like in Star Wars."

     "You have a bad memory," Maddox says to Cas and I laugh, quietly.

     "Well, I'm old now. It's lucky I remember your birthday," Cas says. Maddox glares at him.

     "You forgot last year," Maddox says.

     I grin and Cas flushes, stuttering, "I did not forget. My package was delayed. Look — you know I made up for that. Who took you to Disney World? Who rode Space Mountain with you seven times?"

     Someone calls my name behind me and it's Suki. I resist the urge to shrink in on myself, offering a small smile as I turn to her. "How are you?" she says, her tone friendly and light. She reaches out, touching my shoulder. "I heard about what happened. I am so sorry. Really awful. People are just—." She stops, glancing at Maddox who's staring at her. She looks back up at me. "How are you?" she repeats.

     "I'm," I start to say but Cas cuts in.

     "He's good. He's fine," he says pointedly. Both Suki and I turn to look at him. Cas is giving her a face I can't read.

     Suki huffs and then calls out to Sofia. Sofia is tall, too. She waltzes over to us like she's walking a stage, calling attention to herself. She can't be older than eight now. She's not the shy toddler I remember. She smiles widely at me and says, "Hi. Who's this, mom?"

     "You don't remember?" Cas asks. "This is Dresden. You met him five years ago."

     Sofia searches my face but I can tell she's drawing a blank. "That's okay," I tell her, using my softer voice that I reserve for kids. "We can start over. Sofia, it's a pleasure to meet you."

     Sofia actually curtsies. Cas laughs. "Yeah, she's in ballet now. Wait — where's Lily?" Cas looks around and spots her. Dan is carrying her. Cas grabs my hand, dragging me over. I'm ready for it again, brace myself for the antagonism. But Dan looks over and smiles.

     "The chef!" he says. "Thank you for having us, Dresden. It's good to see you."

     "Miss Lily," Cas says taking her from Dan's arms.

     Lily squishes Cas's face between her two hands. She did the same thing to me five years ago. I can't believe that she's a kid now. She couldn't even speak when I'd rocked her to sleep. "Cas!" she squeals.

     "Miss Lily, I want you to meet someone. This is Dres. Can you say hi Dres?"

     Lily's squirming in Cas's arms so he lets her down and she runs over to Sofia. Cas shrugs, looking at me. "She's basically Sofia now and Sofia is basically an actress. It is crazy to me how kids change. And don't even get me started on Maddox — he is too smart for his own good."

     Cas's grandparents are our next stop. As we walk over, I whisper to Cas, "So what'd you say to your family?"

     Cas whispers back, "That I'm an adult, I make my own choices, it's none of their business what those choices are, and they better be on their best behavior."

     "Really?" I ask surprised.

     "No." He laughs. "First of all, saying I'm an adult gets me absolutely nowhere. My mom consistently responds, if you're such an adult why are you still living under my roof? Because apartment shopping is unbelievable, that's why. So yeah, I just told them not to make things awkward since they're guests and I'll kick them out."

     "They have a right to make things awkward," I say.

    And Cas goes, "They really don't" before he says, "Grandma, pop."

     His grandparents look at us. Robert offers a smile first, saying hello. But Layne says, "Dresden," her tone is clipped but not aggressive.

     Cas gives her a look. "Grandma," he says warningly.

     "I'm only kidding," she says warmly and smiles at me. "Come here. Did you get more tattoos? I don't remember this many tattoos. And how is that arm of yours? I heard you were shot. That's just awful." Layne pulls me into a tight hug.

     "Grandma," Cas hisses, again.

     I get the sudden and sinking suspicion that Cas is trying to protect me. I find myself wondering why and then I think, so this is how I survive today, with Cas.