The house was full of the good smells of Alma's cooking. She was baking pumpkin bread for this afternoon's pre-Christmas dinner, and the ham was slowly roasting in its maple-honey glaze. There was a kettle of cider bubbling on the stove, sending the aromas of cinnamon and apples into the air.

Junior was in the kitchen with her mother. Liz had gone Christmas shopping; she was expected back by three o'clock Marianne, sadly, had been unable to attend. She and her family had planned a trip to Boston to visit some cousins.

Since everything was under control, Jack and Ennis were enjoying a bit of a spontaneous late-morning makeout. Slow and easy, sprawled carelessly on the bed, fully clothed and unhurried. Jack was half on top, Ennis's right knee hooked over his left thigh, trapping it there between Ennis's legs. Jack couldn't do much with his hands since Ennis was on his back, but Ennis's sure were busy. They wandered over his back and shoulders, sometimes seizing handfuls of his hair, sometimes cupping his ass, sometimes sliding up his sides like they didn't want to leave a single inch unexplored.

Jack nuzzled his face into Ennis's neck, his lips picking up the pulse of Ennis's heartbeat. He slid one hand up to Ennis's cheek; he turned his face into Jack's palm and kissed it. Ennis sighed. "Y'know, when I was with Alma, I never used to get the point a neckin'," he said. "I mean, why bother if you ain't gonna fuck?"

"You sayin' you get the point now?"

"Yep. It's kinda like a roller coaster."

Jack chuckled. "I didn't think I was that good a kisser."

"Ain't what I meant," Ennis said, making a face at him. "I never used t'get the point a them, neither. Why go on some ride that only brings you 'round to where you started? Till I rode one. Turns out the point ain't where you end up, it's what goes on while you're gettin' there." He arched his neck and kissed Jack again. "So even if we don't get nowhere, it's still worth the trip." He pulled Jack down to him and they picked up where they'd left off, going on for another few moments of slow kisses, long and deep, trying to see how close they could get and how tight they could hold each other.

Jack drew back and raised himself up a little, propping his head on his hand so he could look down into Ennis's face, smooth and uncreased, his half-lidded eyes full of unshuttered feeling. "My Ennis," he whispered, half to himself, tracing one finger down Ennis's jawline.

Ennis's mouth curled in a tentative half-smile. "Hmph," he muttered. "I like bein' yours," he said. His tone was gruff and offhand, like the admission was embarrassing.

Jack's eyes roamed all over Ennis's face. "You fuckin' amaze me, you know that?"

"Why's that?"

"Just thinkin' about what you was like when we met. You was wound tighter'n piano wire and closed off like Fort Knox." Ennis grunted, his eyes on their intertwined fingers where they rested on his chest. "Didn't even wanna give me your damned last name. That first day all I could think was goddamn, this fella's like a fuckin' glacier and about as much fun."

Ennis grunted again. "Well, I was thinkin' you was like a puppy, couldn't wait t'make friends and slobber all over everythin'."

Jack laughed. "Maybe so. But you changed so much since then. I look at you now and I cain't hardly believe it's the same man. Lookin' up at me like that, and I can read everythin' you're thinkin' and feelin' on your face. You ain't wound tight and shut off no more."

"I ain't changed. Might seem so. This was me all the time. I was jus'…was like I was in a straitjacket. Buckled it so tight, couldn't hardly move. Thing about them straitjackets is they might not give you much freedom, but you sure do feel safe, especially from yourself." Ennis hesitated. "I took it off that summer, and look what happened. Scared me t'death, so much so's I had to put it right back on again. And it got tighter 'n tighter every year till all that safety started chokin' the life outta me."

Jack nodded, impressed. "Damn, you are gettin' wise about yourself in your old age, ain't you?"

"Cain't take credit. Was Junior first said it about the straitjacket. Struck me as dead-on."

"Me, too."

Ennis looked up into his eyes then, and Jack's breath caught in his throat at the emotion he saw there, more than was normal even in these intimate circumstances. "I love you, Jack," Ennis said with sudden, almost urgent, sincerity. "More'n I'll ever be able t'tell you."

Jack nodded, a little taken aback by Ennis's insistence. It wasn't like him to be so…forthright. "I know," he said. "Why the urge to declare all of a sudden?"

"Cause that's the key."

"What key?"

"The key that opens the straitjacket."

Alma laid out her pre-Christmas dinner in the dining room, leading to the usual jokes about how seldom it was used. When Liz opened the door for Peter, she smiled to see him actually wearing a jacket. Without it being discussed, everyone seemed to have independently decided to dress up for the occasion. "My, aren't you fancy?" she said, drawing him inside.

"So are you," he said, smiling down at her. Liz had put on a new dark-green velvet holiday dress. It wasn't her usual style, but the longer she lived here, the more of what had been her "usual" style receded into obscurity. Most days she wore jeans and a flannel, invariably topped off with her gigantic gray worsted cardigan (known around the house as "Lizzie's Coat"), which probably could have kept her warm and dry during a monsoon. The days of her adherence to the orders doled out by Vogue magazine were long gone. "You look beautiful," he said quietly, bending to kiss her cheek. She felt herself blush and wondered again what had become of her formerly worldly-wise, cynical self.

"Howdy, Pete," Jack said, appearing in the living room to shake his hand. "Merry Christmas."

"To you too, Jack," Peter said, handing Jack a bottle of wine. "You clean up all right."

Jack looked down at himself. He was wearing gray corduroys and a blue turtleneck that made his eyes jump out in a way that Liz was trying to pretend she didn't notice. "Isn't it amazing what a little bleach and a wire-bristled brush can do? C'mon, let's get you a drink. Alma made egg nog! Real, not from a carton!"

Liz grinned as Peter was led away. The tree, which they'd put up a week before, bathed the whole living room in a warm, multicolored glow. Gifts were piled beneath it; everyone had set aside one gift to be opened here with Alma, so it wouldn't feel so one-sided. She got a little shiver of anticipation to think of Jack and Ennis's gift from her and Junior, which would wait until their proper family Christmas. It was safely stashed away underneath her bed until then.

"Merry Christmas, city gal," Ennis said, coming up beside her and handing her a cup of egg nog. It was rich and sweet and tasted slightly of brandy. It was delicious.

"Merry Christmas, Ennis," she said, smiling up at him. "You know, you and Jack ought to dress up more often. It suits you." Ennis was wearing khakis and a red sweater that warmed him up considerably.

Ennis shrugged. "We dress up for church."

"You dressing up for church means finding jeans without mud on the cuffs."

He laughed. "I guess we're just country boys at heart."

Liz could hear Junior's voice in the kitchen, and Alma's laughter. "I know how nervous you were about this visit, but it seems to have gone pretty well."

Ennis nodded. "Better'n I could've hoped for. Lots of things that needed sayin' got said." He hesitated. "She's stronger than I gave her credit for."

"You sound sad about that."

"No, it's just…" He sighed. "Ever wish you could split yourself in two?"

"You still wish things could have worked out for you and Alma?"

"I'm just sorry she ever got hurt."

"People get hurt, Ennis. It's the way of things."

He smirked. "You're startin' ta sound like a right New England philosophizer there, Lizzie."

"Ayuh," she said, deliberately curling the regional affirmation with an exaggerated Vermont twang.

Alma's dinner was delicious, and Ennis felt like he was being karmically repaid for all the years of hardship and pain he and Alma had both endured, for their different reasons. The six of them sat around the big dining-room table, groaning with food, and plied themselves liberally with wine and the homemade egg nog. "Alma, this ham is not of this world," Liz said around a mouthful.

"Thanks," Alma said, looking pleased at the praise. "It's my mamma's recipe."

Jack got up and returned with another bottle of wine. "Who needs a refill?"

"Me!" Junior exclaimed.

Ennis gave her The Eyebrow. "You had enough, young lady."

"But Daddy, I feel so…warm 'n mellow."

"And that means you done had enough."

"I sure hope no one needs urgent medical attention tonight," Peter said, his voice slightly blurry, as he held up his wineglass.

"You're not on call, are you?" Liz said, mouth still full of ham, eyes wide in alarm.

"No. I was just trying to be funny. And failing, apparently."

Jack was still refilling glasses, his cheeks flushed with equal parts alcohol and warmth from the fire burning in the hearth. "And a top-off for the best-lookin' man at the table," he said. Ennis rolled his eyes, face reddening, as Jack poured the last of the bottle into his wineglass.

"Let's have a toast," Junior said.

"Hear, hear!" Jack said.

"I ain't said what I'm toasting yet!"

"Oh, sorry."

Junior raised her glass. "To family holidays."

Everyone nodded, raising their own glasses and echoing the statement. "And the ones who couldn't be here to share them with us," Ennis added.

Liz was sure Ennis had meant to refer to Francine, not realizing that his statement could have a more tragic interpretation. Jack's face went slack and he went very still, his wineglass hovering in midair before he set it down. Everyone fell quiet. Ennis swallowed, looking stricken. Jack just sat there staring down at his hands for a moment, then he picked up his glass again and held it up. "To my son," he said, his voice hoarse.

"To Bobby," Ennis said, nodding. As the toast was passed around, Ennis put one arm around Jack's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. Liz saw Ennis murmur something in his ear that she couldn't make out, but by Jack's reaction was probably an apology. Jack sighed and let his head rest against Ennis's for a moment, then straightened up and pulled himself together. Liz glanced at Alma. She was watching them, but she didn't look upset or angry. Just sad.

The gift-opening was a melee of wrapping paper and ribbons, punctuated by exclamations and thank-you's tossed across the living room. Alma looked a bit overwhelmed to have received gifts from everyone. She sat quietly, watching everyone else open their gifts, opening her own only when urged to do so.

A new backpack for Junior. A pair of leather riding gloves for Ennis. A cookbook from the local women's club for Alma. The gifts were revealed and discussed, one after another. Alma's knitting skill was evident in many of her gifts. Liz received a beautiful hat with matching mittens and scarf made from soft, fuzzy white yarn with silver sparkles in it. Junior got a colorful knitted poncho. Peter received the wool toboggan that Alma had been knitting during her visit.

Liz saw Alma's jaw tighten a little as she came to her next gift, which Liz knew was from Jack. He watched her closely as she opened the small, flat package. She lifted the lid and stared down at the contents. She didn't react. Everyone's attention was gradually drawn to her as she sat, still and silent.

Finally, she spoke without looking at him. "Where'd you get this?" she murmured.

"Got it from the man who took it," Jack said.

Ennis held out his hand, and Alma handed over what Liz could now see was a framed photograph. Ennis's jaw dropped a little as he looked at it; Alma was swiping at her eyes. "Aw, Jack," Ennis said. He looked at Jack, that little half-smile on his face but his eyes full to bursting. Ennis turned the picture so everyone could see. It was clearly a professional photo. It showed Junior and Francine, very small, sitting together on the back of a horse. Alma was standing near the horse's flanks, her hands on Junior's waist. Ennis was at the horse's head, holding the reins, looking up at his daughters. All four of them looked windblown and sun-kissed, happy and laughing. Junior, sitting on the floor, scooted a little closer to look. "You weren't more'n four here," Ennis said to her. "I took you out to the ridin' stables and my, didn't Francie kick up a fuss when I wouldn't put her up there with you. Finally got you both up there. Was this photographer from the paper there takin' shots for a story 'bout the owner a them stables. He saw us and asked if he could take this picture. It ran in the paper and we always meant to get a copy, but never did." He looked at Jack. "How'd you know about this?"

Jack shrugged. "You told me about it."

"When?"

"I dunno. Think it was the summer we was up at Big Fork."

"Jack, that was ten fuckin' years ago! You remembered this?"

"I had to remember everythin' about those times, Ennis. Didn't have but a few weeks a year with you t'live on." He held Ennis's eyes for a few long, meaningful moments, then turned back to Alma. "I got it for Ennis, but then it struck me you might like t'have it too, so I had a copy made."

Alma shook her head. "This is…thank you," she said, meeting his eyes. "We never had a camera when the girls was young, I hardly got any pictures of them, or of us."

Jack smiled. "Well, now you got that one."

"Can I have a copy of that?" Junior asked.

Jack cleared his throat. "Uh…check under the tree next week, honey. You too, Ennis," he said.

Ennis still looked like he couldn't believe it. "And you tracked this down, just offa what I told you about it."

"Never forgot how you sounded when you talked about it," Jack said. "Like it was one a them moments when everythin's perfect, the kind that come 'n go in a breath. You're lucky, you got one on film here. You oughta have it t'look at."

Ennis passed the photo to Alma, then turned back to Jack. He looked like he wanted to kiss him, but all he did was take his hand. "Thank you, darlin'," she heard him whisper.

"You're welcome," Jack said, squeezing Ennis's fingers.

The moment settled over them for a few beats of silence, and then the gift-opening resumed. Alma exclaimed over the CCV sweatshirt from Junior, Jack laughed over the box of socks he got from Ennis. "So's you c'n quit stealin' mine," Ennis explained, smirking.

The last gift opened was Alma's to Ennis. It was a utility knife with several blades and an ebony handle. A neutral gift, but one that Ennis could use. He made polite thanks, and everyone set to cleaning up the papers and ribbons, no one remarking on the fact that Jack was the only person who had not received a gift from Alma. Jack didn't look like he'd noticed, although he surely had, but Alma seemed uncomfortable. She was avoiding his eyes while being a little over-solicitous to him. Liz imagined that after the gift Jack had given her, Alma would be feeling a little guilty about having passed him over.

Peter made his goodbyes, apologizing for his early departure, but he had patients to see in the morning. Liz followed him onto the front porch. "Thanks for coming over," she said. "I know Alma appreciated it. I think she wanted to make a gesture."

He nodded. "She seems a lot more peaceful with everything than she was a few days ago."

"Yes, I think so, too. I doubt she'll ever really accept it, but at least everyone can get along and be civil to each other. I know Junior will be glad for that."

"That was quite a gift Jack gave her."

"I know. He showed it to me a few weeks ago, when he first got the picture for Ennis."

"That's really thoughtful."

"He's like that. He remembers things."

"I bet she feels bad about not getting him anything now," Peter said, smirking a little.

"I don't think he was surprised to get the shaft."

"No." Peter sighed and met her eyes. "Are we on for Saturday night?"

"Sure."

"I, uh…don't suppose you might come over later?"

Liz grinned. "Oh, I don't know. But if you leave that back door unlocked, you never know who might come around."

Jack stood at the sink, washing dishes while Alma dried. The silence was only a little uncomfortable, in sharp contrast to the excruciating discomfort they would have endured had this task fallen to them a mere three days prior.

He glanced out the kitchen window; Ennis and Junior were sitting at the firepit, having been released from cleanup duties after they'd cleared and neatened the dining room. Alma let out a little sigh. "She's so like him sometimes," she said.

Jack nodded. "She's like you, too."

A long pause. Alma cleared her throat. "I've gotta thank you again for that picture."

"Don't think too much of it. I really got it for Ennis; givin' it to you too was almost an afterthought."

"Quit that, now."

"Quit what?"

"You're jus' tryin' to make me feel better for not gettin' you nothing."

"Alma, I didn't expect nothin' from you."

Another long pause. Alma dried each plate, each glass, as Jack set them dripping on the drainer, turning to stack them on the kitchen island. She tossed her damp towel aside and picked up a fresh one. "Ennis gets migraines sometimes," she said, out of the blue, keeping her eyes on the task at hand. "Aspirin don't touch 'em. Best to jus' let 'em run their course."

"Okay."

"Don't never let him eat strawberries. He loves 'em, but they give him hives."

"Uh-huh."

"He won't never admit it, but he's powerful afraid of the dentist. If you c'n get him t'make an appointment you best go with, 'cause he'll skip out given half a chance."

"Okay."

Jack kept his thoughts to himself as she continued. I know all this. Don't you think that I know all this? I've lived with him for seven years. I know about the migraines and the dentist-phobia and his tendency to lose his wallet. I know how he takes his coffee and what kind of music he likes and I know how to hold him when he has nightmares. I know things you don't know. Do you know about his secret boyhood dreams of being a firefighter? Do you know he's still afraid of his daddy? Can you tell me what peace looks like on his face?

But he just listened as she told him what she thought he needed to know, nodding and accepting the only gift she could give him.

Ennis carried Alma's bags up from the bungalow and loaded them into the trunk of the Mercedes, then came back into the house, where everyone was gathered in the living room. Alma was putting on her coat. "You got everything, Mamma?" Junior asked.

"I think so," Alma said.

"Well…we best be going, then."

Alma nodded. She took a deep breath and turned to face the three of them, a look of determined goodwill on her face. "I want t'thank all of you for havin' me. It was…real nice."

"It was very nice to meet you, finally," Liz said. Ennis was grateful for her easy way with people, a gift he sometimes envied. She stepped forward and hugged Alma, who returned the embrace.

"Maybe you c'n come visit us in Wyoming sometime," she said. "Come along with Junior one a these times…if I c'n ever get her back out there again," she said, shooting Junior a glance.

"I'd love that," Liz said, and damned if she didn't sound sincere.

Alma turned to him. "Good t'see you, Ennis," she said, evenly. "It's a real nice place you got here."

He nodded. "Glad you could come," he managed.

Alma stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, quick and perfunctory. "You're doin' real well for Junior. I want you t'know I appreciate it."

"You give Francine my love. Even if she don't wanna take it," he said.

She nodded. "I will." She shut her eyes briefly, took a breath, and turned towards Jack. "Goodbye, Jack," she said.

Jack smiled. "I'm glad we, uh…got the chance t'get better acquainted," he said, carefully.

Alma looked like she might have an issue to raise with that statement, then thought better of it. "So am I," she finally said, opting for diplomacy. Jack stuck out his hand. She stared at it for a moment, then shook it briskly. "You take care," she said.

"You too. Safe trip."

Junior stepped forward. "C'mon, Mamma. You don't want t'miss your flight."

Alma glanced around at them, smiled a little uncertainly, then turned and stepped towards the door. She hesitated, then faced them again. "Y'all be well," she said, then she and Junior went out the front door and headed down to the car.

As if it had been rehearsed, Ennis, Jack and Liz all let out a breath at once. Liz laughed. "Gee, you think we were tense at all?"

Jack clapped a hand to Ennis's shoulder. "Well, look here we all are, still alive," he said.

"Ain't that a fuckin' miracle," Ennis said.

"Come on, the leftovers are calling me," Liz said. "Who's for a ham sandwich and some pie? We'll eat it right out of the pie pan. Three forks. Or fingers. I don't care."

"Aw, hell yes," Jack said, as the little group trooped into the kitchen. Liz was already at the fridge, pulling out wrapped containers and foil-covered pie pans. Ennis sat down on one of the stools at the island; Jack sat next to him. "And now that it's our house again, I can do this," he said, then he grabbed Ennis's head in his hands and kissed him. Ennis was too surprised to react at first, but he couldn't deny that he shared Jack's relief to have the freedom they usually enjoyed in their own house back again. He kissed back, one hand wandering to Jack's thigh.

"Well, shit," he heard Liz say. "If you two are just gonna chew on each other, I guess that's just more pie for me."

Jack pulled back, grinning. "Naw, we'll save the chewin' for later. Gimme a fork."

"Where's that leftover lemon meringue?" Ennis said, grabbing a fork of his own. Liz slid the right pie plate over to him. The idea of sandwiches seemed to have been abandoned; it was easier to just pick bits off the leftover ham as it was.

"We s'posed ta keep these ham bones?" Jack said, searching for the crispy black bits that were his favorite.

"Why?" Liz asked, forking pumpkin pie into her mouth.

"I dunno! Don'tcha make soup or somethin' out of 'em?"

"How should I know? Oh wait, I forgot. I'm a woman, therefore I know about ham bones and soup."

"Well, you know everythin' else in the fuckin' world. S'cuse my presumption, Miss Liberated Gal."

"That's Ms. Liberated Gal to you, mister."

"Oh, you're in trouble now, rodeo. Don'tcha know that Miss is an antiquated, misogynistic term of address that degrades the dignity of independent ladies such as our Lizzie here?"

"That's an awful lotta big words, genius. You been readin' Cosmo again?"

"You wouldn't talk smart if you knew how many sex tips I'd gotten outta Cosmo."

Jack hooted laughter, nearly choking on a mouthful of ham. "Well hell, then I'll fuckin' pay t'renew your subscription."

Ennis joined in their laughter, feeling the rightness of their normal home situation clicking back into place, free of anyone who might look upon them with judgemental eyes. His man, his friend, and his daughter soon to return, likely to be mad that they'd eaten all the leftover pie.