If Meredith found out that this night came up with Zola's therapist one day, or Bailey's for that matter, she would unabashedly say to stick it in the Mommy-issue category. Not because she was raising churchless heathens, but because she hadn't prepared them. She'd forgotten her plan to bring it up during the hairstyling session, and she definitely hadn't had time after showering. In her defense, they might've been saved from significant Mommy-and-Daddy-issues by that extra time.

The doorbell rang while she was straightening her hair, with Derek flitting in and out of the mirror's periphery. He wasn't going to be there any longer than he'd planned on yesterday. RENÉE COLLIER M.D. would call again, and what if she had some breakthrough to report? It wasn't hard to imagine him dashing off, because so often she'd been running with him.

Still, the possibility didn't make her feel sick the way it had this morning. She wasn't going to present the hypothetical; she didn't want him making promises he couldn't keep. He might be obligated to go. She was far more confident that he'd come back if he did.

"Are we expecting anyone tonight?"

"No, and even if you and I were in for a huge surprise, Santa doesn't ring doorbells."

"Funny little elf," he teased, tapping her on the nose from behind. "I'll go see what's—"

"I got it!" Amelia shouted.

"Uncle Owen!" Zola shrieked.

Meredith followed Derek into the hall. This, she would not miss

Owen was standing at the threshold. The position of Amelia's hand on his chest suggested she'd been trying to shove him away from it, but Zola had discovered them and flung herself at his waist. When Carolyn came into the foyer with a hearty, "Hello, Major Hunt, are you joining us?" Amelia's head and shoulders dropped.

Busted.

"Uh, no ma'am. Actually, I'm heading to my mom's for dinner, and Amelia said she'd provide interference."

Carolyn's eyebrows shot up. "Really, now?"

Mom, do you really think I won't be smote…smited…fried to a crisp, if I walk into a church?"

"Plus, she can't be trusted around Communion wine."

"He's right. Way too much temptation, especially with the stress of Nicole's surgery!"

Zola's eyes were wide as they darted from her aunt to her daddy and back. Meredith glanced over to the living room where Bailey was obviously riding his rocking horse, and said, "Let's go put on your dress, Zo-Zo."

Owen wasn't the first soldier to not know the details of the war he'd been drafted into.

Once Zola was dressed, down to the buckles of her Mary-Janes, Meredith stood her in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the master bath and told her to close her eyes. "No peeking," she instructed, making a couple last minute adjustments. "You did such a good job helping me pick your dress, and plan your hair, and being patient while we did it. Open your eyes."

"So pretty!" she exclaimed, touching the gold, red, and green wire garlands Meredith had braided into her hair. "Thank you, Mommy!"

"You're welcome. Everyone's going to say how beautiful you look, but you're always beautiful, Zo. You're kind to your brother, and your classmates. And to me. I know some things are different when Daddy is working, but you are so helpful. You're so good about day-care overnights, even if they were unexpected. I love how you think, and how you make us laugh. You have sparklies in your hair tonight, but you always sparkle on the inside and that's much harder."

Zola hugged her, and ran off to show off her surprise hair.

Meredith wasn't sure she'd ever put together so many outfits for one holiday. The jumper from Zola's party would've been perfect for dining out double-duty, and it was appropriate, as was the attire she'd selected for tomorrow. Tonight's had been hung separately in her closet before she'd decided to make "having a few people over" into "hosting," and long before she'd imagined this night involving a second location.

She tucked the wine-red blouse into the black trousers, and fastened in gold hoop earrings that would be lost in her hair, unless you tended to stare at it. Her pumps fastened at the ankle; thank goodness for Seattle's lack of snow. For work she would've added a suit jacket, and real church people might advise it, but they weren't who she cared to impress.

Derek was at the front door holding Bailey, who looked dashing in his green corduroy overalls. He passed him to Carolyn as Meredith rounded the landing. Her coat was already draped over his arm.

How many times had she let him hold her coat for her? Enough that she didn't often think of having a red-haired woman approach them across the hospital lobby. Maybe she was supposed to wish she never did. But as he swept her hair out from under her collar, she revisited the seconds before that. She'd looked into his eyes and understood that while he didn't know how meaningful it was for her to have someone else remember her coat, those little gestures hadn't been him wooing her with modern chivalry; they'd continue past the point where she was ready to hear the words they represented.

"Hey." His hands went straight to the curve of her back, following the minute designs seeded on the fabric.

"Hey." She'd glanced over to where Carolyn was getting little arms in puffy sleeves. "Am I going to get smote?"

The leer was momentary, his body already shifting toward the coatrack while his hands squeezed her ass. "I can't imagine God wanting to eliminate anything half so exquisite as you." They both laughed, but his kiss was sincere. She had no idea how many of those there'd been.

"Shepherds don't need silver spoons. Their tongues are gilded in it." Carolyn said as they filed out the door. She'd always imagined his sharper words as darts, spat to hit continuous bullseyes. Carolyn's analogy made her think of sharpened edged daggers that'd be as likely to cut the wielder. Strange, that image seemed less painful.

"Ma!" In the porch light, Meredith caught a glimpse of blood rushing to the blades of Derek's cheeks. She smirked to herself while fastening Bailey into his seat. Her relationship with Derek owed a lot to the fact that neither of them embarrassed easily.

He was waiting for her by the passenger door. "Sorry about her."

"I know you are." He screwed his face up at her, and taken her elbow as she climbed into her seat. It gave her the advantage of height over him as she'd pressed her fingers to his cheek. "I love you."

Elegance of language was not an issue that Greys had, in her experience, but she made plain words work for her. Stars jumped from the sky into his eyes. .

"Does Daddy know it's not for real called 'Kissmas'?" Zola asked once he'd closed Meredith's door. "It's got a 't,' for the baby."

That would've been a good time to run through what Christ's Mass would be like, but she was distracted by passing the darkened trailer. It took her several minutes to narrow down the situation in a text Cristina to find out if she should assume Owen was guileless, or if he'd been forcing Amelia to face up to Carolyn before they left.

CRISTINA YANG: not ootq. he's v. big on respect, b/that cld mean 2 things.

if she'd said don't ring the bell, he prob wouldn't. b/otherwise it'd be rude not to.

not surprised he decided 2 go to evelyn's, b/if I was A i'd pick church.

MEREDITH GREY: You're allergic to family meals.

CRISTINA YANG: & i had a bat mitzvah.

MEREDITH GREY: Exactly. Sitting still, chanting in an ancient language. much easier way to spend a couple hours.

CRISTINA YANG: that y ur going?

MEREDITH GREY: No.

CRISTINA YANG: good. does she know abt megan?

MEREDITH GREY: idk. did you know who Adam & Eve were at four?

CRISTINA: forget church. go read the torah.

Meredith didn't think that held up to the timeline of Saul's entry into Cristina's life, but she got the point. "Hey, Zo? Remind me about the baby?"

She listened to a very barebones retelling of the Nativity that focused more on the donkey than she recalled, and somehow included reindeer. With some gentle corrections from Carolyn, that took the rest of the drive to the restaurant, the nicest kid-friendly place on this side of the sound.

Meredith was Commanding Officer in Operation Keep Bailey Clean, a multi-step process involving double bibs on top of the bib of his overalls. The diaper bag was stocked with a spare shirt, as well as toys to occupy both him and their big girl, who was carrying a lip gloss, a nearly depleted stack of Post-it's, and an Elsa pencil in a silver-sequined clutch Meredith hadn't used since college.

"You have so many teeth now, bub!" she said, zig-zagging a forkful of fettuccine Alfredo toward Bailey's mouth. He desperately wanted to feed himself, and "open for the choo-choo" became "avoid the dive-bomber" to keep clear of his grabby hands. "Why are all your favorite foods mushy?"

"Who could possibly say?" Derek responded, as the server put Meredith's pappardelle ragu down in front of her.

She scratched her nose with the middle finger facing away from Carolyn. Anything more childish would've been recognized by the children. Derek's smile curled around his fork, and Meredith wondered how he dared do that with his mother watching. Carolyn was looking right at him. Did that twist of his lip only carry weight to Meredith, who was suddenly warmer than the restaurant's heater could account for? Not second-guessing his intentions made her feel them more, or maybe just letting herself hold onto her feelings from one moment to the next.

"Hey, Mommy," Zola said, holding up a piece of her chicken tender. "It's Christmas." Her ghoulish tone would've been funny enough, but then she ate the bite with relish that belonged in a Tyson commercial. So much for vegetarian conversion.

Meredith cracked up. No one had to tell her it wasn't a joke most moms would encourage, but most people wouldn't find it hilarious. Derek and Carolyn wore similar baffled expressions, and it was not going to help to say, "it's like she called a pork chop Wilbur."

Zola was ahead of her "My What's Cooking Jamela? bookis like the turkey part of A Muppet Family Christmas."

That didn't click for Carolyn, but understanding transformed Derek's expression. Meredith put all her concentration into feeding Bailey with one hand and herself with the other, but his gaze wasn't just magnetic, it was a magnet.

Your daughter, he mouthed. She searched his eyes, and then the lines of his face; the muscles that she'd seen twitch for the first times around Addison. Nothing. No exasperated, passive-aggressive judgement.

"They should make a Muppets of that book. It'd be funny for them to chase a chicken, and there's Sesame in South Africa, you know."

Meredith grinned. Damn right, she mouthed back.

Even if she hadn't missed those opportunities to brief her daughter on the basics of a church service, the gist of what she'd said probably wouldn't have been more than, "We're going to sit and listen. They'll talk about Christmas, and sing carols."Derek pointed out the stained-glass windows and told her that he used to make up his own stories about them, which got a frown from Carolyn.Neither of them had a clue about Children's Church.

It would've been all right if, when Callie had called to confirm details for tomorrow, Meredith had taken her up on accompanying her and Sofia to the church near the hospital. But they'd been going at five, to a specifically kid-oriented service, and Meredith had thought that defeated the purpose of going for Carolyn's benefit, If there'd been a point where the priest had jovially invited all "our youngest parishioners" to gather at the altar, Zola would've stuck with Sofia through the whole process. Likely, at a children's service, they wouldn't have used this short discourse to collect everyone under ten and lead them out of the nave, Pied Piper-style.

But at a family-friendly mass at eight o'clock on Bainbridge Island, that's exactly what happened.

Zola had been fascinated by a trio of girls in the pew in front of them, for no reason Meredith could deduce other than that they were older than her, and initially she followed them as readily as she would've Sofia. She'd looked back a few steps into the aisle, and once she saw Meredith following with her brother, she'd happily followed her newest idols, kneeling next to them. Bailey had broken free of Meredith to join her, and Zola wrapped her arm around him, glancing at the big girls—all of six and seven—to see if they saw her protecting her baby brother.

Meredith hung back while the priest wove together secular and religious stories and side-eyed the other parents, doubting that any of them were thinking about how his predecessors had done the same with pagan festivals of light. She'd already stepped forward when the kids who knew the ropes had lined up to follow an acolyte toward the doors. Hers were two of the littlest in the jumble, and she'd seen Zola's hair decorations glint as she turned her head, the big girls once again strangers in a strange place. Before Meredith could get to her, a smiling novice had offered her hand to the cheerful little blond boy in forest green overalls.

"NO! YOU DON'T TAKE HIM! MOMMY!"

Meredith's immediate appearance wasn't enough to stop Zola from becoming completely overwhelmed. She draped herself over Meredith's shoulders in a barnacle-cling. Bailey's lower lip jutted out—if Zola was distressed, something bad was happening—but he had only been baffled by the rest of the situation, so he let MEREDITH lead her toward Derek with a finger looped in the back of his overalls.

Derek intercepted Bailey in the aisle. He was clearly ready to go out with them, or to take the kids on his own, but apart from thinking he should stay with his mom, Meredith wasn't sure he knew the whole story here. Zola didn't spend much time away from home or the hospital, and was almost never out-of-sight of someone familiar—he might think the priest's questions about who would be leaving cookies for Santa had a part to play. He was far more concerned about Zola's "believes" than Zola was.

This was only peripherally Santa-related.

She'd volunteered to take the toy donations from the hospital drive to the agency they were working with, knowing they provided after-school tutoring and served as a rec-center. Sure enough, there'd been kids helping to unload the boxes. She'd taken Zola and Bailey in to see them piled under the tree outside the front office.

"We're Santa," Zola had gasped. Back out at the car, she'd done her best impressions of the jolly old elf while Bailey joined a couple other little ones flinging handfuls of slushy snow into the air, open-handed. A different social worker from the one who'd greeted them had instructed his charges to say thank you, and directed them inside.

"Come on, sweetie," he'd said to Zola, who'd been standing closer to her mother than Bailey had been.

"Momma?"

"Right here, baby. We're leaving."

The man had blinked, and then laughed. "Oh, she's not one of ours, is she? Sorry, I'm new here. I don't know faces yet."

Everything had been tinged with red already because of the decorations, and Meredith's heart wasn't in her body, it was in the little girl clutching her waist.

Without acknowledging him, Meredith had picked Zola up, grabbed Bailey's mittened hand, and gone around to the other side of the car. Zola had snapped her own harness together and grabbed Rawr from the bag that went to and from the hospital with them.

Meredith had driven out of the parking lot without a word to the social worker, who'd still been visible in her rearview.

And that was how she ended up rocking Zola in the echoing entryway of the church while Bailey played with a couple of Wubbanub animals that had been connected to pacifiers until recently, and the unlit candle Meredith had been handed on her way in.

"…tryin' take us…." Zola sniffled as Meredith rubbed circles on the velveteen back of her dress. "Don't want B.B. being tooken…."

"Love-bug, they just have classrooms for children to go to during the long part. I would have kept you with me. But Daddy and I are always going to come and get you. If you get lost, we are always going to find you. How do I know that?"

"Um…'cause you're my momma?'

"Always and forever. No one is ever, ever going to take you from me or from Daddy. You know why?"

"Uh-uh."

"You found us. How did you do that?"

Zola lifted her head. She knew this story. "I'm Zola-G-Meant-to-Be?"

"That's right. You were a cute baby, but, hey, those are a dime a dozen." Zola's giggle had come with a sniffle, but her tears had dried. "But Daddy picked you up, and he knew you were meant to be ours. We went to a judge, and he made it official. We have the same papers that say you're ours that we do for Bailey. Nothing you ever do will change that. Just like nothing will ever change how we love you."

"Yeah," Zola said. "I liked being Santa."

"You did a good job of it."

"I gave the kids presents. We do presents. Why did we come here? We don't do the native-y, or think the God had a baby Jesus."

It was rare for Meredith to wish her mother was around to tell her how she'd done this. She only remembered the things she wouldn't say to her children, who loved people who believed and who weren't "small-minded." They had bigger minds than Mom had had.

" don't believe that a god created people, because we know how humans evolved. There could be more to it. Some force making that happen. It's possible to believe both. Science is a story of proven things, and a lot of what we know was a mystery for a long time. Not knowing scared people, and they came up with stories to give them answers.

"One of those stories is that a man who taught about being gentle, and kind, and peaceful was so important, because he was the son of God. They say he could heal sick people, and…some other things. Things that seemed impossible. Before there was medicine," she qualified. But you bring people to life, Momma! "His birthday is celebrated as one of many winter holidays in the world. You've learned about them in school.

"They're about light and warmth, which are a gift in the dark, cold; one that we didn't always understand. Even knowing how fairy lights and fires work, they feel a little like magic. The same feeling comes from bringing friends and family together, and giving gifts that show how much we appreciate them. That's what Christmas is about at our house. It's a little bit like a birthday, and a little bit like our Family Day, but it includes everyone."

It was privilege to be able to reverse the actions of the Roman church by picking and choosing traditions. To be able to not believe, and try to teach her kids to be good people without fearing eternal judgement. One day, this conversation would be a darker one, featuring usurped festivals and missionaries.

"Your Santa gifts helped those kids feel special and loved. Grams chose to be with us this year, and church is part of her Christmas. Right now, there are so many, many Shepherds at churches like this one, saying similar things and singing the same songs. That lets her feel connected to them while she's with us."

"Couldn't she do a FaceTime?"

"She could, but this doesn't interrupt anyone's time with their other family and friends. And I'm sure she's remembering loved ones she can't FaceTime, like your daddy's daddy, and Uncle Mark."

"Aunt Callie says he's with us, and loves us. But Sof says God decides if you're good enough to go to there to Heaven where he is. Like Santa."

Bad babies. Meredith was absolutely assigning the purgatory conversation to someone else. Zola had been so happy at the idea of her birth family celebrating Christmas, and Christianity, colonialism, and Africa specifically were complicated beyond a four-year-old's comprehension. She had a feeling it would come earlier than expected, not because of any of the jadedness she'd hoped to avoid, but because they'd almost swerved too far in the other direction. Zola needed to know why everyone wasn't included in everything.

"They're similar ideas. Death is one of those scary things that science doesn't tell us everything about. When someone dies, their brain and body shut down. They don't talk, or breathe, or hurt. Heaven is the way Christians hope their thoughts and memories, their... spirit keeps existing in some other way."

"You don't think so?"

"I don't think there's a god who judges your life, but as to where our loved ones stay with us…. One thing science teaches you is that there's a lot we still don't know. There are…." She paused, not altogether sure about saying the next part, but Zola was listening with her head tilted like Derek's, those dark eyes fixed on Meredith's face. "My mom and I didn't always get along. She didn't really know me as a surgeon, and she was not a church person. But there are times when I'm operating, and I'm kind of stuck, and then... then I know what to do. What she'd have done. I don't if I remember her the most strongly, then, or if she's there, somehow. Either way, I think you could say she's with me there."

"My aunt Lexie died. Was she a church person?"

"She was a Christmas person."

"Yeah, she was at my first, when I was a dima-dozen." Meredith laughed. "We can be connected to her?"

"All the time. We have a video from that year. Would you like to watch it?"

Zola nodded, and Meredith took out her phone. Opening the shared media folder, she found the file, one of the camcorder tapes she'd had digitized, along with the box of 8mm film, slides, and photo albums. Before she started it, she checked the last time it'd been opened. A week ago. Quickly, she sorted the files by date opened. The number of videos that jumped to the top of the screen made the action seem like a breech of privacy. The timestamps made it appear that Derek had swiped over to one of these after most of his calls with the kids for most of December, and frequently opened shorter ones around lunch. Huh.

"Mommy?"

"One sec, I'm pulling it up.."

"Okay, but, uh, can I have a question first?

"You can always ask questions," Meredith said, bracing herself. This was not her forté, and there was every possibility Zola was going to decide Grey+Sloan was haunted by the ghost of Ellis Grey. Very Dickensian.

"Didn't Auntie Melia want to make Grams feel special?"

"Aunt Uh'me?" Bailey looked up excitedly from the animals who seemed to be riding the candle.

"She's not here, B., that's what I asked why."

"Zola."

"I did! I'm not being mean, he's not listening."

"We're talking about stuff that's a little big for him. You're getting to be a big little."

"Like Auntie Melia is Daddy's big little sister?"

"Well, she's Grams's little girl, like you're mine. It would've been nice for her to be here, but she'll be with us tomorrow. It's just…. Sometimes it's hard to have everyone around you feel a certain way because they believe in something you don't. Aunt Amelia had to do that for longer than Daddy and—" And me? Meredith had never believed in church-y things. She had had faith her mother didn't share, or denied. Derek hadn't made her fundamentally different, he'd just let her admit her beliefs to herself. In herself.

"I don't tell anyone at school that Santa is a believe," Zola said. "Sometimes I help make up stories of how he works magic. They don't know it's special kid love."

"Do you wish that you didn't know?"

"I know superheroes are pretend. They shoot cool lasers from their eyes, but the villain bad guys aren't real, so we don't need them. We got surgeons using lasers and robots to fix people."

"And Santa's like a superhero?"

"Uh-huh, because he's not a wizard. Or a God. Wizards aren't real?"

"Not that I know of."

"I thought no. Santa flies, and has a big refilling bag, and that's like a superhero. Or a magic hat guy."

"Magicians are real. I know one."

"Uh-huh, Kelly B. had one at her birthday. Auntie Melia does superhero stuff to get rid of tumors in people's brains." Does Carolyn know she has both a superhero and a god for children? "And you do robots, and lasers, and crashes, and Aunt Callie makes bionic bodies! So, I like that. And I like stories for pretend. I have a good 'magination."

"I know it. Hey, you know something else? Because we're here with Grams, Aunt Amelia was able to do something nice for Uncle Owen tonight."

"That helps him feel loved!"

Meredith sucked in her cheek to keep from laughing again. "You ready to watch?"

"Veed-o?" Bailey wormed his way onto Meredith's lap. Zola tapped the screen to start the video. As she watched herself carry baby-Zola into the frame, Meredith whispered in the ear of this sweet, small person, "I fibbed a little. You were one of the cutest babies ever in the world. Not a dime a dozen."

"Yeah," her daughter said. "I thought it."

The one of them who wasn't ready for the video turned out to be Meredith. She doubted anyone knew how often she thought of Lexie. Maybe Derek, or she'd thought so before hearing that nurse say flippantly, "Dr. Shepherd did say she's terrible at sisters," and determined they hadn't meant Amy.

They'd both said things.

She'd talked about Lexie to the kids more, after that. Shown them more pictures. Seeing her move was different. She looked so young, dressed in Harvard sweats with her hair in a haphazard bun, batting balls of discarded wrapping paper around with Derek and Zola, in that order. They'd been genuinely concerned that having another pile of presents in her life wouldn't impress Zola in the slightest, but she'd happily let them make fools of themselves with the newest set of noisy, flashy toys. Meredith had turned down the phone, but Lexie's shriek at the unexpected sound from one of them rang through the vestibule. Both versions of Zola laughed.

"Silly wady." Bailey said. "Eep!"

"Shh." Zola put a finger to her lips. "The church people are talking about baby Jesus. That's Aunt Lexie."

"My am-wance." Bailey pointed to the toy that had startled Lexie.

"It was mine," Zola said. "You weren't real yet. Now we share, because it was a Christmas toy."

Meredith pressed a kiss to the back of Zola's head, being careful of her "sparklies," and raised her arm for Bailey to poke his head under.

"Where's Uncle Mark?"

"With Sofia and her moms. They came over later, while Aunt Lexie was... out."

Molly had brought her kids home for the had invited them too, she'd give him that, but she'd wanted Zola to have Christmas in her space. That'd been her excuse, anyway.

"But he loved Aunt Lexie?"

"Very much."

Zola nodded and giggled at her baby-self playing with a ribbon. Meredith was glad that was all she needed of that story tonight. Mark and Lexie had had that Christmas with Sloan. He'd come over the year of the shooting, along with an unwittingly pregnant, gloomy Callie, but Lexie had been making an appearance elsewhere. They'd been sneaking around in the attic while she was figuring out how to do Christmas with Derek. Lexie hadn't gone anywhere; Thatcher had been at the bottom of a bottle.

There must've been some contact, that first holiday after Susan died. Meredith had overheard a phone call in the hospital halls at Thanksgiving. Over her in-laws' table, Molly had discovered Lexie hadn't exaggerated Thatcher's situation, but still seemed to blame the messenger. She and Derek had taken her to joe's on Christmas night. She hoped Lexie had been with Mark in the interim. Maybe she'd hung out with George. It'd been his first Christmas without his dad. Meredith's first without her mom. Technically.

She had said something to Lexie, hadn't she? Something more than, I'm sure your mom went all out, sorry our dad's a bust. Hadn't she?

They'd done better over the years. The Christmas playing out on her phone screen had been similar to that, a first where Meredith felt out of her depth, but also content with that. It'd felt ideal. Their little family Christmas that morning, with Alex joining mid-morning. She'd imagined that being the baseline for the rest of their lives.

There was a reason she emphasized that the traditions mattered less than the motivations behind them.

They'd been watching for a few minutes when the sanctuary door creaked. Meredith jumped, but the interloper was Derek. She was about to wave him over to join them when he said, "They're about to do the candle-lighting. You want to go in, and I'll sit with them?"

"I want to go in with Momma! I'll be good."

"You've been good, Zo-Zo. You just got scared, but I think you'll like this part."

"It's your momma's favorite part," Derek added. She smiled at him. He could've stayed at Carolyn's side, and said he was sorry she missed it. She wouldn't have begrudged that. Instead, he'd come for her. "Then it's home for bedtime," he said, picking Bailey up. "One more sleep."

They slid into the closest spaces in the back. Meredith felt bad about ditching Carolyn, but Bailey had started rubbing his eyes. A second meltdown was entirely possible. She didn't envy the volunteers dealing with whole groups of over-excited, overstimulated kids, almost all old enough to understand how close they were to ending a month or more of anticipation.

"It really is a birthday," Zola whispered, bouncing as lit candles began appearing in the pews in front of them.

"We're not gonna blow this one out, just yet," Meredith said, accepting the flame from the neighbor on the wick of her candle. "Don't touch," she instructed, helping Zola climb up to stand on her seat so she could see. Derek shifted Bailey to the side furthest from their single light. Bailey's lips were an "o" of amazement. Both of them were riveted as the light went down, and the organ started.

Meredith wasn't a church person, and she couldn't remember if she'd ever considered silent nights to be more appealing than ominous. She did have about a zillion tea candles in the shed, which sometimes got used for Christmas decorations, or place settings on the anniversary of the day they'd met Zola.

Church after the shooting, and it had been nice, if a little complicated. They'd been trying to conceive, and it'd all made her a little bitter toward yon virgin and her tender and mild infant.

Her feelings on holiness hadn't changed in the interim. She'd have nothing good to say to a deity whose plan couldn't have avoided the plane crash. The wide blanket of twinkling stars that she pictured for that calm, bright night hovered over the clearing. It didn't have to; she'd seen countless starry skies as an adolescent bouncing in and out of Boston. They'd been beautiful, and awe-inspiring, but if she pictured a terrified mother staring up pleadingly, prayerfully, through a hole in the stable ceiling, it was the patch over the woods that fit. Sent by God or just ready to be born lol at the wrong time, a baby born in those circumstances would be a miracle for their mother. All the comforts and convenience of a world with science and surgery, and she could still feel a connection with all the millions of women who'd experienced the terror, the devastation, the elation. She hoped April could find some kind of peace tonight.

Bailey's blond hair was haloed in the candlelight; his wrapt expression shining. Zola's face, too, was alight with wonder. Meredith had speculated on the feelings of worshippers for Zola, but she couldn't believe they were any more meaningful. The light and warmth, the song being sung around the world and through time, the potential of life represented by a newborn, by her children; all of it was real. Like her daughter, she preferred reality, but she didn't think it was antithetical to magic. Love, family, togetherness. They were miraculous because they were incomprehensible, not the other way around.

Still holding Bailey firmly away from the candle, Derek put his arm around her waist. He'd been consumed by such dark unhappiness for the past few months, but when she kissed his cheek his eyes brightened. She imagined him alone in the extended stay she'd only seen glimpses of, watching those videos. He hadn't come home as an act of redemption, and if neither of them wanted to fight anymore the only other option was grace.

The hymn ended, and candles were blown out around them. Zola's hand tensed on Meredith's wrist, and she held it closer to let her blow it out. She squinted for a moment, and puffed her lips out, blowing hard enough to bend the flame before it became smoke.

They waited in place for Carolyn to approach with their abandoned coats. "Do you feel special, Grams?" Zola asked. "We did your tradition!" She does not understand sarcasm, Meredith reminded herself. She still sounded four going on fourteen.

"I do, sweets," Carolyn said, leading them out. On the church lawn, a crowd of mostly children, all reunited their parents, were clustered around a living nativity.

"Baby Cheez-its!" Bailey declared. Once again, a significant amount of the parishioners turned toward them.

"We all share his birthday," Zola reported. "Like my one-year-old party was also Uncle Richard's zillion surgeries." That was a story she'd only been told a month ago, at some point during the discussion of how they were going to sing Happy Birthday to Aunt Maggie at her party, too. "I still got to have cake on my face. Did baby Jesus get cake?"

"We sang about that, Zo," Derek said, lifting her into her carseat. Zola side-eyed him. Fifteen. "'Shepherd's cake.'"

The little girl's eyebrows furrowed, doubtfully, but she didn't have the knowledge to argue. "Silent Night" might've been the only song they didn't sing at day-care. "Mommy, is that true?"

"There are shepherds in the story," Meredith said. Derek grinned at her.

"The sheep guys kind. Not us. 'Asides, Daddy," she added as he started the car. "Momma made my baby cake. It was a Grey's cake."

"I made it for you, Z. It could be a Shepherd's cake."

"So Jesus would've had a Christ's cake."

"Oh, I bet you've heard Aunt Amelia talk about that," Carolyn said. "For Christ's cakes!"

"Need to pull over, there?" Meredith muttered to Derek, who'd almost sailed through a traffic light.

"I ate a cake of soap for saying that, once!."

"Exactly that?"

"I don't think they had cake in Bed-a-ham," Zola determined. "They had cookies, and the Santa story took it!"

Meredith could almost understand why parents piled on details about Santa's more unlikely abilities, but her daughter's budding ability to logic her through the joke was the best.

"But we make Christmas cookies for everyone at our party. Just like birthdays at my school. That's gifts and making people special, and all that Adult Jesus stuff."

"I still vote cake," Derek said, after giving her a moment of triumphant silence. "'Peace on Earth,' 'piece of cake.'"

"Cookie?" Bailey put in.

"Two cookies, since that's what we have for our Christmas," Meredith said. "And then it's sleep time."

"Two both?"

"Yes, Zo, two each."

"Just checking."

Meredith smiled. She loved that Zola could be such a proponent of sharing, and not have giving her little brother half the cookies quite down just yet. She loved carrying Bailey into the darkened house and having him gasp, "Pretty tree!" She loved that they were little enough to get excited about pajamas with teddy bears and candy canes printed on them.

Derek might be right about her being a Christmas person. She couldn't pretend to be mad about it.