"So, have we started placing bets on when Cherie will show?" My brother laughed as he entered the kitchen behind my mom.

"Michael, be nice to your sister. It's difficult wrangling two kids on her own," my mom cautioned.

"Yeah, Michael," I childishly piled on.

"Mmhmm, merry Christmas, Lil. I'm genuinely surprised you made it here before me." Michael lifted an eyebrow at me.

"I'm very punctual," I challenged.

"Really? Let me guess, you came straight from the office and only made it on time because they kicked you out?" He argued back.

"No. Actually, I worked from home this morning and spent the afternoon off the clock," I smugly announced.

"I don't believe that for a minute," Michael contended.

"That's enough, both of you," my mom chided. "Behaves yourselves, especially with a guest here."

"Mom, I know Lil isn't around a lot, but even I think it's too far to call her a guest," Michael teased.

"Hilarious, loser," I murmured.

"Lily, no name-calling. And Michael, Lily's friend, Billy, is joining us this year."

"Billy?" Michael looked at my mom and me.

"That's me," Billy offered as he pulled himself from beneath the sink.

"Holy shit, there's a dude on the floor," Michael stumbled back a bit at the shock.

"Language," my mom corrected.

"Hey, man," Billy said as he wiped his hand on a rag and extended it to Michael. "I'm Billy."

"Collins," Michael finished.

"Oh, do you two know each other?" My mom smiled at the idea.

"Mom, everyone knows Billy Collins," Michael stammered. "He's... he's... he's Billy Collins," Michael stumbled.

"Yes, dear. Lily already introduced us," my mom scolded.

"No, mom, he's Billy Collins," Michael said again.

My mom's eyes darted around the room. "What am I left out of?"

"I'm a musician," Billy casually offered.

"Right, you mentioned that. In addition to your businesses," my mom agreed.

"A musician; you're not a musician. You're Billy Collins. You're like the musician." Michael continued to barely string a cohesive thought together.

"I'm just a musician, and people seem to dig my work," Billy tempered before returning to the belly of the sink. "Although I will accept Lily's guest for the holidays." H gave my mom a wink at the tease.

"Lily, your Billy, the Billy mom has been calling the garage band burnout, was Billy fucking Collins?" Michael's eyes were still wide, but his words formed full thoughts.

"Michael, language and manners!" My mom shot. "Billy, I apologize for my son. He has clearly lost his mind."

"It's alright, Beth," Billy called out from beneath the sink, where he had once again returned. "Been called worse than my name many times."

"What is Billy Collins doing under the sink?" Michael whispered.

"Fixing the garbage disposal that I asked you to fix last week," my mom whispered back.

"Mom, you can't have Billy Collins fix your garbage disposal!" Michael's hiss was slicing.

"Why not? He fixed mine," I offered.

"What if he hurts his hands?" Michael's voice rose to full volume.

As if on queue, Billy added an "ow."

"Oh fuck, we broke Billy Collins. This is why we can't have nice things," Michael lamented.

"You okay, babe?" I called down to him.

"Yeah, I just pinched my finger. I'll survive," Billy clarified.

"See, he's fine," I accented my point by sticking my tongue out at Michael.

"Lily," my mom scolded.

"Sorry, mom," I whined.

"Michael, go set the table," my mom demanded before turning to me. "Who are you dating?"

"Um, Billy," I tried to deflect.

"Yes, Billy, please come out from under the sink," my mom requested.

"One sec. Can you turn on the disposal first?" Billy asked.

"He's quite stubborn when he fixates on a puzzle," I shrugged before hitting the disposal that now grumbled without the added rattle. I smiled to myself before flicking it off.

"She should know," Billy continued as he pulled himself up while wiping his hands. "She a puzzle I've fixated on for years," he teased.

"I believe I'm owed an explanation. What kind of musician are you?" My mom was using her stern voice, which always made me feel like a teen in trouble.

"Well, that's an interesting question. We could probably spend a fair amount of time on that," Billy pondered as he leaned against the sink. "I guess maybe rock, but certainly with a heavy influence from blues and punk."

"And country," I reminded him.

"Of course, and folk seeps in often," Billy mused.

"My son seems to think you are quite successful," my mom declared.

"Another interesting question. It really depends on how you measure success," Billy absently nodded.

I had never heard someone grill Billy on his career before, and it was making me uncomfortable. "Mom, can we not be so..."

"No, it's fine," Billy stopped me. "These are interesting questions one should stop and ponder." He then turned his attention to my mom. "Yes, I'd classify myself as successful. More so lately than in the past," he definitively nodded.

"What? Lately?" Fell from my mouth before I could stop it.

"Mmhmm, many things are connecting." His voice was thin as he continued to ponder the thoughts whirring through his head.

"Connecting?" My mom said, baffled.

"Beth, I can assure you that I can more than support Lily in any path she chooses financially. Although, she doesn't need me. As I'm sure you are aware, she's quite successful. I hope Lily feels as though I can support her emotionally. We've struggled with that in the past, but it is much more of a focus now."

"You're famous?" My mom boldly asked.

"Yes, in certain pockets, I'd be considered famous," Billy agreed.

"Yeah, and those pockets are people that are breathing," my brother interjected from the doorway.

"Oh, well," my mom was clearly trying to hold her voice even, "good for you."

"Thank you. Now, is there anything else I can fix for you while I'm here?" Billy's voice came in his casual voice, high and thick with his Midwest accent.

"No, I think you've done enough for one holiday. You kids get out of my kitchen so that I can finish everything up." My mom shooed us away with her hands as she returned her attention to her cooking.

But Billy's feet were reluctant to follow Michael and me.

"Beth, are you sure there is nothing I can help with?" Billy asked in a pleading voice. "The Collins are a kitchen family; it feels wrong to leave you alone to do all the work. I promise, my mom has trained me well in kitchen directions."

"Okay, you can stay, but you two... out." My mom shooed Michael and me again.

"What can I do?" Billy eagerly said as he washed his hands.

"Finish the salad," my mom directed as my brother and I headed to the living room. "And tell me about your mom," my mom continued.

"My mom," Billy laughed, "I don't think we have enough time."

Billy's voice filtered away as the distance increased.

"This whole time you've known Billy fucking Collins and said nothing?" My brother jutted an elbow deep into my ribs as we walked.

"I didn't not say anything. You knew I dated a musician named Billy. Besides, Billy and I haven't spoken for the past decade. He was closer to Dad."

"Dad? Wait, this is the Billy that Dad was friends with?"

"Yeah, they were really close. Billy considered him a second father."

"I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone," Michael grumbled as he fell to the couch.

"Why is that?" Cherie asked as her two kids scrambled around her and flung themselves at Michael with giggles.

"Oh, no reason other than Billy Collins is in our kitchen making a salad with Mom," Michael shot as he wrangled Josh and Leena.

"Okay, and is Paul McCartney setting the table?" Cherie laughed.

"No, he's on the can't meet list," I murmured.

"Wait, what?" Cherie asked in shock, but didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she marched down the hallway. She must have just poked her head in the kitchen because she was back in the living room less than a minute later. "Okay, why is Billy Collins in the kitchen learning how to make cranberry sauce from Mom?"

"As I said, Twilight Zone," Michael answered.

"No, seriously, I need answers," Cherie continued.

"That's Billy. The guy I dated in college before Sam," I offered.

"Wait, the delinquent garage band musician that Mom can't stop reminding you of is Billy Collins?" Cherie stammered.

"Yeah, and he was besties with Dad," Michael added.

"How... when... what?" Cherie continued.

"Hey, Lil," Billy poked his head into the living room. "Oh, hey, you must be Cherie," Billy added when he saw my sister. "I'm Billy. It's nice to meet you," he smiled as he extended a hand.

"Yeah, yeah," Cherie wistfully said, "it's nice to meet you too."

"And these two must be Josh and Leena," Billy smiled at the kids, still using Michael as a jungle gym.

"Yes." Cherie shook the funk from her mind. "Kids, come meet Lily's friend."

"Hello," Josh shyly said while Leena clung to Michael.

"Hello there," Billy said as he crouched down to Josh's level. "How old are you?"

"Six," Josh answered, "and Leena is four, but she's shy."

"I was shy when I was your age. My mom was afraid I'd never make any friends." Billy gave Josh a dimple-accented smile.

"Did you?" Josh's eyes grew wide with worry.

"Yeah," Billy let out a giggle. "I've made many friends."

"Phew, I wouldn't want her following me around everywhere." Josh smiled.

"Hey now, take from a father of two kids a bit older than you; no one will ever have your back like your sister," Billy offered before standing tall again. "Lil, can I steal you away? Your mom needs another set of hands."

"Of course." I smiled as Billy's attention fell on me. I hadn't realized how much I missed being his focus.

Billy's hand wrapped around mine as we headed down the hall to the kitchen. Just outside the kitchen door, he paused.

"So, I want to let your mom know about the proposal. I feel bad for not asking her first."

"What?" I said, confused.

"You know, if your dad had been around, I'd have asked his permission. I didn't even think about your mom. I don't want her to feel excluded." Billy's eyes poured over me, gauging my response from my face.

"Okay," I said, still feeling a little baffled.

A crooked smile splashed across his face before his lips hit my forehead. "You're fun when you're perplexed by normal things."

"I'm not perplexed... I'm just... No, you're right. I'm perplexed. You and my mom, I just didn't expect you to get along so well."

"Well." Billy let out a breath he had been holding. "I had a lot of insider information from your dad," he admitted. "It's like he knew we'd be here one day."

"I'm certain he knew we'd end up here one day," I agreed before we plunged into the kitchen hand in hand.

"Hey, Mom," my voice wavered as I spoke.

"You're pregnant," my mom murmured.

"Mom!" I scolded.

"Beth, we wanted to talk to you together," Billy evenly began.

"But I'm not pregnant," I clarified.

Billy gave me something very close to the scolding look he typically reserved for Viv when she spoke out of turn.

"You know that Lily and I have known each other for many years, and while there have been moments of strain, we always seem to find our way back to each other," Billy explained.

My mom's eyes instantly flickered to my hand. "Oh, my goodness," she murmured.

"I apologize for the timing, but I'd really like your blessing to marry your daughter," he continued.

"Oh, my goodness," my mom managed again before stumbling back against the counter.

"Mom, it has always been Billy," I explained.

"You're engaged... to be married," my mom murmured to herself.

"Again, Beth, I'm very sorry for not asking you first. Things have been... hectic lately," Billy consoled.

"What? Sorry? No."

"No?" Billy and I said in unison.

"Mom, this is an empty formality. I'm marrying Billy, and you can't..."

It was clear when my mom snapped out of her shock as my sharp words sliced across the kitchen. "No, not no. I'm so happy for you," she finally glowed. "Just shocked. I didn't think you would ever find someone. I didn't even think you were looking. It's wonderful, just wonderful."

"Really?" A smile broke across Billy's face.

"Really?" I skeptically added.

"Of course," my mom raised her arms to Billy for a hug. "Welcome to the family. Charlie is somewhere looking down on us, thrilled," she added.

"I sure hope so," Billy agreed as they embraced.

It should have been happy. Billy was happy. My mom was delighted, and Billy seemed to have easily won her over, but as I looked at their embrace, an overwhelming blanket of doubt and sadness coursed through me.

"Lily," my mom excitedly greeted as she broke from Billy. "Come here, honey." She wrapped me in her arms, and again, it shot a sense of sadness deep into me. "I'm so happy for you. He seems like a wonderful man," she whispered. As she broke away, she added, "this is so exciting. Do you have any plans yet?"

"No." Billy let out a throaty laugh. "It's very new," he noted as an arm snaked around me.

I pulled away to get a glass of water, but my shirking of his arm wasn't lost on Billy. His eyes followed me as I got a glass. They remained trained on me when I turned as I took a big gulp. I gave him a weak smile that did nothing to soothe the emotions poisoning my mood or Billy's worry.

"Billy, do you mind bringing a few of these dishes to the table?" My mom absently asked, unaware of the tension filling the room.

"Of course not," Billy said without lifting his gaze from me.

"Mom, do you mind if I run up to the clubhouse for a few minutes?" I asked as I emptied the rest of my glass into the sink and watched the water flow down the drain.

"Go ahead, but don't be long. Dinner is almost ready," she smiled.

I didn't hesitate; I just quickly slipped up the stairs before Billy returned from the dining room. I assumed I'd only have a few moments before he came to find me. I'd welcome him and the comfort he gave me, but I sunk into my sadness for those few minutes alone in my dad's clubhouse. I slumped to the hassock where my dad sat for so many chess games. The board was gone. I assumed he had tucked it away until our next game, not knowing it would never happen. The warm smell of my dad's pipe tobacco nourished me as I let my eyes drop to the turntable. I dropped the needle as I'm Your Puppet played. Something was soothing about knowing this was what he left behind on the turntable. I let the song wind down before pulling myself up. The throb of sadness had dulled to the hum I always carried with me and would always carry with me.