"And this one is for Baby Bailey," Richard announced, holding out a rectangular package wrapped in frosted-blue paper printed with snowmen. It was grabbed with a gleeful, "No!"

"Sorry," Meredith said. "This is probably a good chance for us all to practice 'Little' Bai—"

"Nooo, Mama! Na' Bay-yee." She had a second's certainty that he was going to declare himself Baby Cheeses before he continued, "Baby Day-bid. Ah-mo fwend Baby Day-bid."

Richard's eyebrows went up two inches. "Baby Day-Bed?"

Meredith didn't trust herself to correct him without laughing in his face. Luckily, she had Zola. "Elmo's lovey is Baby David" she explained, not looking up from the Photo Safari Duplo set Richard had given her.

"His fwend!"

"Yeah, Elmo's your friend, isn't he?" Meredith cut in. "And you have lots of friends at daycare. Elmo has friends on Sesame Street. Baby David isn't his only friend. He has lots of friends, and so do you. He has a Zoe, like you have a Zola…." She lined as many of the figures as she could find up near his playsets and coupled them with names of his classmates. "Abby Cadabby is Elmo's friend…who's another friend of Bailey's?" She pretended to look around. "Hmm. Sofia is Zola's friend. Is she Bailey's friend?"

The floor under the tree was almost clear, and the food had been set out. They had big knives for the roast, if anyone said technically…aren't you raising them as cousins? She was going to get stabby.

"Yeah, Sof-wend," he agreed.

"Is Bailey Elmo's friend?"

"Ah-mo," he said, and got back to playing Frosty slasher.

Meredith punched the air at her side. Another meltdown avoided, with the same unwitting assist. "Hey, Sof? Never leave me."

"I'm gonna get a house one day, Auntie Mer."

"Not before that. Deal?"

Sofia nodded, only half-attentive. Everything she'd unwrapped had been added to the pile next to her while she returned to reading the box for the table-top easel that had been from Zola and Bailey.

Gifts. Meredith was good at them.

"I like this," Derek sat and lifted the dress-up crown from her head. "Very Christmas-cracker." He stretched his legs out on either side of her. See? We're good. She wasn't sure exactly who the thought was aimed at. There'd been some sideways glances. Callie had clearly had questions when she'd noticed them under a sprig of mistletoe that had appeared as inexplicably as Carolyn's flowers. "Hey!" She took the crown away and returning it to her head. "I earned that."

"How, exactly?"

"Hey, Wilson?" Meredith called to the resident who was sitting on the couch next to Alex. "How'd I win the crown?"

"You throughly schooled me, Dr. Grey."

"And?"

"I am a braggadocios upstart who should not make assumptions about my elders."

Miranda snorted into her glass of eggnog.

"I missed something," Derek said.

You miss a lot—Nope, not going there.

"Dr. Grey?" The owner of the catering company was standing at what passed for a threshold. "Sorry to interrupt."

"You have nothing to apologize for Lauren. Der, can you hand me my shoes?" She pointed under the coffee-table. She loved his bemusement enough that she almost didn't want to clear it up. "Taking them off to whoop Wilson's ass on the girls' new dance pad was safer. I could've left them on."

"But you're not bragging."

"Oh, I am. My general lack of coordination, and that was known when the first DDR machine was installed in the arcade in Hanover, but I flat-out refused to fail at virtual clubbing."

"Hustling on DDR was how fed myself for a whole summer while I was living in my car!" Jo protested.

"Were you sober?"

"Duh. I needed to win."

"I wasn't. Doing it unimpaired almost takes more concentration."

"You're very good at using being underestimated to your advantage," Derek pointed out.

"Not like I got overestimated often." She grabbed his hand to get to her feet. He squeezed her fingers before letting her go. "Here," she added, depositing the crown on Derek's head. "Keep it safe for me."

She strode over to the kitchen to meet with the caterers. Behind her, Miranda murmured, "Girl, you've been around two years, you don't know better than to take a bet against her? She doesn't play if she's not confident she'll win, and if she's confident, she's right." She didn't hear Jo's answer. She wasn't meant to. That didn't stop her from momentarily bracing herself on Bailey's highchair, pretending to adjust the placemat while she took a deep breath. That was essentially true. For a long time, her refusal to reject a dare or lose a bet came from sheer determination, but eventually she learned to set her own terms. None of it had been anything to be proud of from her perspective. DDR definitely hadn't been keeping her alive. But if she hadn't managed those small wins, she would never have gotten this far. That made them worth something.

Paying the pizza guy had been her job with her friends since she was a preteen, because she'd already been doing it for years. She'd never have imagined that that could evolve into dealing with caterers, but in six years she'd become adept. Derek liked to cook for smaller groups, but for a holiday, she thought they deserved a reward for making it out to Bainbridge in the first place.

Carolyn had insisted on setting the table late that morning, Amelia had grabbed a handful of silverware from her, and Owen had gone straight there after depositing a bottle of bourbon on the counter. She'd picked it up to make the first batch of eggnog. Bartending was another skill she'd learned while young and intoxicated. Mixing the drinks herself made it harder for her friends to give themselves alcohol poisoning. Being the one whose mom was a doctor meant being the one who got to render first aid.

Whenever they hosted Christmas it was interesting to see who showed up with booze, and who brought presents to anyone over twenty-one. They all confirmed which children would be attending, and Miranda had commandeered the gift-bag Meredith's coat had been in to hold boxes and bags for Tuck.

Callie usually contributed to the bar, but this year she'd had books for both of them. A biography of Elliott Smith for Meredith. For Derek, Touching a Nerve: The Self as a Brain. You didn't give a surgeon a book you didn't believe would be worth their time, which meant you'd made the choice thoughtfully. (Derek had seemed somewhat thrown—though not unpleased—when Meredith and Amelia had swapped Wonder Women: Sex, Power, and the Quest for Perfection for a newly-published volume of Sylvia Plath's drawings.) The falling out over the sensors had happened early in the year, and it was staying.

Owen's choice hadn't been a surprise. Cristina had approved the book Meredith had given him about battlefield medicine in the Civil War, but she didn't think it was her best work. When she'd d looked across the room to where he was showing it to Amelia. He was smiling, and his eyes hadn't been on the title page.

She'd cornered him before he could follow Ben and Derek outside to see the unboxed version of the camping equipment they'd given the Bailey/Warren household. Meredith had almost left her name off that tag. He'd bought theirs, and her positive-ish opinion came from one weekend last summer. She'd gotten Miranda the mug that doubled as a single-serving teapot specifically to balance it out.

"I'm in a weird position here. Sort of literally," she'd said, standing so that Owen would hide her from anyone who might be looking over from the shed. She'd hung her new coat up like a responsible person after going around the house to greet Miranda and Ben. (One of them needed to be cornered next. She had questions about how early they'd left the Warrens. So she was a hypocrite. Whatever. People staring at her and Derek had never helped, whereas she…tried, okay?) "Because Cristina is my sister, but Amelia is too, and that's becoming real, not just legal. I'm not going to tell you not to bonk my sister."

"Bonk?" he repeated, his lips twisting like he couldn't get the word off of them fast enough.

"Bonk. It's…it's from a book Lexie gave me for my birthday the year sge…the year I turned thirty-three. Telling her not to screw Mark was a mistake, and Amelia's a grown-ass woman. Not that Lex wasn't…. Amelia's older than me, but she's Derek'slittle sister. Weird position, like I said."

"We're not….We're friends."

"Like Teddy was your friend?"

Owen's focus had been split between her and whatever was happening behind her—Amelia, was her guess—but he jerked his gaze fully to her face, doing a double-take and clenching his teeth as he did.

"I've been in that position, you know. George was into me, and for a little while I was oblivious, but then I ignored it. That wasn't fair to him. He let me, and that wasn't fair to me. From day one, he had a goal, and not telling me was a lie. He made me feel like I'd led him on, when he hadn't treated me all that differently. Sure, I got a few more coffees than Izzie, but, not to sound too pathetic, I needed them. I was a mess. He was sweet, and safe. He became kind of a cypher." She sucked in her cheek. George had been Callie's McDreamy, her heart-in-the-elevator guy. She'd swooped in after Meredith hurt him, but she'd been lonely and living in the hospital. Had any of them had real, 'love me for me' relationships that year? Alex and Izzie might have come closest. Yikes. "He…He was more like you than I've wanted to see since the whole enlistment thing. If you're into her, make sure she knows that. Could be awkward, but you need to give her the chance to see you like that. If that's not—"

"It is," he cut in, and then ran a hand over his bristly hair. "I like being friends with her. She's so wrapped up in Herman's tumor…but you're right. She needs to have all the information, and I can give her time with that."

"'Take care now' time?"

"That was…different."

"It's too late to take this literally, but not every relationship has to be an archetypal, meet-the-mom type of thing. You can't go in expecting someone to change, or that you will, but if you put it out there they get the chance to surprise you. You know that," she added. "You saw strength in George and April that the rest of us didn't."

"I don't know if what it takes to deal with constant trauma is strength."

"Don't I know it," she'd said, and Owen Hunt cracked a smile. She'd waved him off to join the guys, thinking maybe he and Amelia would be good for each other.

After releasing the caterers with the assurance that they were still planning to do their own dishes, she put Zola's and Bailey's plates on the table. She planned to let them get up as soon as she was sure they wouldn't starve. That was a low bar, but there'd be more than enough macaroni to reheat later. In the main room, Derek had risen to stand next to Ben, and she watched them out of the corner of the eye while she asked Callie if she wanted to go in to fix Sofia's, too.

"Good plan. Fair warning, she might clean out that macaroni. The Colonel tried for a full, sit-down breakfast at the hotel."

"Before Kidmas?" Meredith asked. That term was going to be all over the hospital in a year, she had no doubt.

"No, thank baby Jesus. But she's spent too much time with you, while she wasn't staring at their huge tree, she was asking her grandmother to help her itemize her haul. If she hadn't negotiated a bite per toy, her plate wouldn't have been touched."

"Hotel trees are pretty great," Meredith said. "Mom once had a conference in…Chicago, maybe? It was during winter break, and I had to be dragged out from…."

"What?" Callie tracked her gaze. Derek had tilted his head back to laugh, and Ben was grinning. "Oh, wow. I haven't seen him like that since…."

"Mark." Both of them jumped at the nearness of Carolyn's voice. "I don't know everything about the past two years, but he always did have a small circle of close friends."

"Huh," Callie said. "He seems so...popular kid, but when you think about it, that tracks."

"It really does," Meredith agreed. How had she missed that?"

"Sorry I startled you dears. I came over to offer to sit by the littlest one."

"Oh, that's—"

"—all right? Let me rephrase: You're hosting; I'm here to get to know my grandchildren. Unless you think he won't eat for me, I'm going to sit next to B.B. "

"Callie, will Bailey eat for her?"

"Macaroni, meat, and potatoes? All she needs to do is make sure he's not inhaling the spoon."

Carolyn laughed. "I have some experience, there."

"Looks like they're down to the last present," Callie said. "Is there grape juice?"

"And orange," Meredith murmured. Callie scoffed. "Oh, right. No orange juice with orange food."

"One of these days one of yours will have a picky, picky, princess phase," she said, darkly. Meredith shrugged. So far, they'd been lucky, but Callie was probably right. Children's other senses all overwhelmed them at some point, why not taste?

"Mommy, look it what Auntie Maggie made!" Zola came running. Meredith accepted the board, expecting a puzzle like the one Sofia was showing Carolyn. Instead, she discovered that it was covered with metal latches and strips of neutral-colored fabric connected by zippers, buttons, buckles, ties, and snaps. Around the edges were maneuverable gears that could be turned with a wide knob. Wooden letters at the top spelled out SHEPHERD.

"It's a busy board," Maggie explained.

"Yeah, I know. We're sort of Montessori light around here." Also, they'd begun to pop up in the literature for Alzheimer's therapists, but that was a downer. "Made?"

"Uh-huh. Most of the ones I could find were focused on one set of skills or the other. I didn't know if you had one until…." She glanced at Derek. "…a few weeks ago, or I'd have made two."

"They can share, can't you love-bug?"

"Yup, we got a few share toys as…from Santa," Zola said, unclicking a latch. "Plus, I'm already good at lotsa these. I can be a teacher for him."

"What do you—Oop!" Meredith found herself sitting alone with the board while Zola threw herself at Maggie.

"Thank you! I coulddo my buckles almost this morning, and now next time I wear these shoes I can!"

"If you practice," Callie said, coming over from the table.

"All set?" Meredith asked, standing up with the upward tilt of her chin. "Okay! That's the last present, or if it's not, the rest can wait. Food's that way." As the migration started, she touched Maggie's wrist. "Hold on. Derek look at this!" His arm went around her waist before he took the board she held out. "Maggie made that. Alex thinks he's a big deal for hanging up a tire." She managed to time that perfectly, smiling at Alex's sneer. He'd know what she was doing; he could deal. "Is that a hospital doorknob?"

"I didn't take it off a door or anything. I got it from maintenance," Maggie said.

Lexie would've, Meredith thought, flipping one of the switches. Derek kissed the side of her head. He'd followed her. "This is great. I'm glad you got to see them unwrap it," she said, as Derek lifted Bailey off of Zola's tower, where he'd retreated with Elmo and Super Grover. The green shirt under the toddler's denim overalls matched his dad's sweater. It was so stupidly cute.

"Me too. Um… I was going to offer this Saturday, in the spirit of Ujima, but I'm here, so…I want to watch the kids for you guys to go out this week."

"Why not tomorrow?" Carolyn asked, taking Bailey from Derek.

"That's your last night, Ma."

"And I can spend it with my grandchildren."

"It's the first night of Kwanzaa," Meredith put in.

"Unity," Richard said. "I could still come by, and Maggie and I can light the Kinara."

"Well…" Meredith thought through the plans they'd made. Richard was bringing friends later in the week. She had a printout of community feasts, not sure what Derek would want to do, but they'd only had to RSVP for Sunday, Why was she even questioning? This should be an opportunity she was jumping at.

"I have an in at a swanky new Japanese place downtown," Callie offered. Sometimes, Meredith missed walls. "I doubt they'll be too busy, and it's right by the hospital."

Derek was still standing by the tower. He'd put the busy board down on it, and was flipping a switch back and forth. He wasn't usually the fidgeter. Their eyes met. He raised his eyebrows. Hopefully.

"All right. If you're all that excited about hanging out with them during the biggest come down of the year, I'm game. Derek?"

A grin was spreading on his face, but he blinked like he hadn't expected to be addressed. "When you put it that way…."

"Great!" Maggie said. "Does it matter where we sit?"

For a second, Meredith had no idea what she was talking about. Her mind was twenty-four hours head, alone in public with Derek, without the kids, with nothing else to provide a distraction. On Boxing Day. When Christmas was over.

"Nope," she said, flashing her sister a smile. "It doesn't matter at all." She held her hand out to Derek, and they walked together to the table. Unified, in that moment.

It'd be great if they didn't give Zola a reason to reject the principles of Kwanzaa along with Santa Claus.

Meredith didn't know why she answered her phone. The egg nog affected her decision, for sure, but she shouldn't have been able to hear it first place. Derek's government phone was upstairs. Owen had once again pulled his guitar out of thin air—okay, so he'd left it by the door—and Carolyn had bullied Derek into getting the Fender Mark had given him down from the wall of the study. They were being accompanied by children armed with rhythm sticks and a tambourine. The ringtone shouldn't have caught her attention, but it had. She'd seen the name on the screen, hit ACCEPT, said "One second," before picking her way over Sesame Street and retreating to the study. "Sorry. Hello?"

"Meredith?"

"Molly?" Her stomach dipped. Definitely the nog. "What... Did something...?"

"Oh, no. I'm not calling to…! Dad's fine. I mean he's…. You know he's going to Africa? Of course you don't. Why would you? I came home last minute to help put stuff in storage before he sold it all with the house to avoid dealing with it, and I asked if it had anything to do with your little girl. It'd have made sense…sort of…if he'd been working with the same entity. He had no idea, and I realized I couldn't remember…. I know the baby's almost two."

"Nineteen months."

"Right. His birthday's in May?"

"Early."

"Early May? Or he was?"

"Both. I was due in June, but…." She swallowed. What was the point in being evasive? "I honestly expected him to come on the anniversary. Derek and I both lost important people that day. They would've loved him, but…."

"Not a fair birthday. He's a junior?"

"Ish. Derek is Derek Christopher. He's Derek Bailey. We use his middle name. And many variations."

"I have a Junior, I get it. Even Laura is Borie. Alauraboraealis. Rae. Alice. Boris."

"Yeah. It happens that way. Is…what's her name...Dani going to Africa?"

"No! She's been out of the picture for a while. May've been running for her life. Our family had faced a lot of mortality in a very short amount of time."

Meredith raised her eyebrows. That was darker than she'd expected. Also, awkward. She'd mostly grown out of considering herself cursed, but it still felt like if she hadn't showed up on his doorstepll—

"Look, Meredith, you can absolutely hang up on me, I just…I don't think it's right to ghost people the way he does. I found out about Dani's existence from Lexie. With this, I'm sure he considered sending me a postcard from Harare. That's where he's going. Zimbabwe. To teach."

"Zola was born in Malawi. They're..." Separated by Mozambique, seven hundred miles apart... Meredith didn't finish the sentence. She'd learned that because of Zola; some, reading about Malawi, but equally helping her with her Countries of Africa puzzle.

"Not the same, of course. Some student of his studied there last year and had pretty photos. He says he's lonely here, with everyone gone…. Everyone isn't. You're not. Lexie used to talk about her a lot. Z...Zola?"

Meredith turned the phone over to breathe in through her nostrils. It was obvious that Molly had never said her daughter's name before. Had Thatcher? Doubtful.

"I was jealous on Laura's behalf, which was silly, because we're not based in Seattle. Just, Lexie and I never figured out how to do the sisters thing as adults."

Had she and Lexie managed that? They were sisters and adults, but were they adult sisters? Meredith slid down against the door and tipped back her half full cup. There were going to be three other responsible adults in the house tonight.

"I felt like she didn't try enough with Laura, but she can tell me which toys came from Aunt Lexie, and remembers jokes from their chats. I should'v done better at appreciating what I had."

"Me too. I...I've thought about her a lot this week."

"Yeah. Same."

"Um...Zola turned four a few weeks ago. Laura will be seven?"

"Oh! Yeah. Same amount of time Mom's been gone. Yours too, huh?"

"Mm."

"They say you're a different person after seven years. It freaks me out to think I'm someone she wouldn't know."

What happened to you? Now, the ways Ellis wouldn't recognize her were a relief.

What would be out of place to Lexie?

"I know I was never very welcoming to you, but Dad will be traveling, and Eric's mom has been dealing with some stuff—Point is, the kids and I will be in the area off and on for the next few months. Maybe we could get them together for a play date?"

Meredith's head swam, and she didn't think it had anything to do with her heavy pour. Maybe she wasn't any different, because she want to say something close to what she'd said to Lexie. "I'm sure you're very nice, not interested." Better than the harpy shriek she'd unleashed on Maggie, but barely. Who'd made her children a busy board. Who was coming to love them, if she didn't already. She and Meredith weren't much more than colleagues, but she'd gotten further with Amelia. They had inside jokes! (She'd given Bailey a Sesame Street-branded toy microwave, and since the play kitchen already had one, it was definitely a message to Meredith.) She had Alex, who was as good as a brother.

I want that for you. Hadn't that wise family man distanced himself from his? But she had nine people in the living room who were incredibly unlikely family. Her best friend's ex-husband. Her mother's former lover. His late best friend's coparent whose ex they'd been plane-wrecked with? They were all her people; shouldn't she be willing to give this half-sister another chance? If she did, would she be trying to prove something? She didn't owe it to Lexie or Susan.

She shook her arm, and her bracelet fell down over her wrist bone. The lion had Zola's citrine on one side, and a blank spot on the other. She wanted to fill one of those empty squares with something that represented Lexie, unrelated to how she'd died. Maybe Molly could help with that.

She'd gotten over her resentment of Lexie, and that their shared father couldn't tell their tiny selves apart was his problem. For all she knew, that was all she and Molly shared. A Y-chromosome. A dead sister. A couple of kids, one born early. Husbands whose names rhymed. Molly had moved for hers. Did that always feel like the right choice? "How do your kids feel about McStuffins?"

"Love her. We mostly have recorded stuff, though. Sesame Street—" Meredith nodded, but didn't interrupt. Their kids tastes were not a deciding factor. Hers made friends who liked Teletubbies, for Pete's sake. "—Dora. Laura's big on Ariel, thanks to Prince Eric. We've had some talks about...talking. Speaking up."

"Zo's a zoo animal nut, on the cusp of animals in general. Big fan of The Lion King. People assume it's an Africa thing."

"Gross. I'd blame Sofia the First. Talking to animals."

"She contributed, as did Doc's mom being a vet." Maybe talking to Molly heightened the weirdness of that sentence, but she doubted it'd ever be normal. Mom McStuffins, the cartoon McVet. McDreamy. McQueen. She needed a Mc thing. Derek was her Mc thing, but as a concept, McDreamy was his. She wasn't McWife, that was for sure. McPissy. McNaggy. McBitchy. McContradictory. McNeedy. McDesperate. McParanoid.

"Is it a Z thing?" Molly asked."Zola's zoo?"

"Ha! No., that is what we call her collection, but it's not the origin. I'll let her tell you the story."

"So..."

"Text me your number, and we can make plans. I'm... I'm happy to hear from you Molly, and I'd like to meet the kids for real. And if you ever need anything while you're in Seattle and Thatcher's gone, or whatever, you can call."

"But?"

"Nothing. That's always been true. I'm not—I wasn't socialized very well. But if this is about some family reunion—"

"No, not at all. Like I said, he's leaving, and… You notice things one you have kids. Remember things. Eric's helping Junior set up his train set, even though we'll be packing it up in a couple days. Dad would look at our stuff, but…. Mom did everything for Christmas, presents, food, decorations, all of it. Dad would sit in the armchair while we did the tree, and say, 'oh, I don't deck halls, they deck me.'

"The year he was…after Mom died, he told me a tree fell on him. He kept saying he didn't mean to hurt me. He wasn't good with delicate. He said it was all he could see in the photos, 'your little bald patch.' It's a whole family joke that I didn't have hair until I was two. I think he was thinking of you."

"Can't tell you, off the top of my head." She hadn't finished the quip before flashing back to operating on that ornament yesterday. Molly's laugh was deeper than she would've expected. "Your mom seemed like the type who was happy to be in charge."

"He undermined her. Once… Lexie was really into model horses. Part playing, part collecting. This one night, Mom was running errands, and Lex was going to a sleepover at one of her friends' houses. They're Jewish, Hanukkah was over, and Lexie lost her mind about how unfair it was that they had all their presents. We must've been done with Santa, because she knew her new horses were in the house, and she'd convert to Judaism if she could just take them."

It wasn't hard to imagine Lexie, hands on her hips, chin up, presenting her argument. She could be quiet, but once she got loud, she stayed that way.

"I don't know if Dad was trying to grade, or her argument swayed him, or what, but next thing we knew, he was lugging this box up from the basement. He told her that this was it; she wasn't going to get more in two weeks. She went off to her sleepover, and I got to hear Mom ream him out."

Meredith let the last drops of melted ice fall onto her tongue. Molly must've been older than she'd been when she'd lain awake listening to her parents. That's supposed to be for her birthday! Was she remembering that wrong? Had he told himself he'd always been right?

"I was on his side, and I thought that put me on Lexie's, but now…I couldn't ruin Christmas morning for my kid that way. Does it really matter when they get the gifts? No, but she was maybe ten. Being a little genius didn't mean she could think through what not having her biggest gift under the tree Christmas morning would feel like."

"It ruins the magic," Meredith murmured.

"Exactly. And that's…he was better than a lot of dads I've encountered. Never as volatile as the day of Mom's funeral, but…I lived at home longer than Lexie.. I'm not going to be trying to sell you on him. I can't always do it for myself." Snarky. Again with the unexpected. There was a sudden ruckus; the familiar cry of a toddler wronged. "Sorry to end on that note," Molly said. "But I have to go figure out what 'train bad go' is all about. Merry Christmas, Meredith."

"Merry Christmas."

Funny, this year would be her first time having that exchange with two of her three sisters, and she'd never do any better than that.

She texted Derek. When he came in, she was zooming into the scanned version of the photo from her ornament. He sat down next to her blocking the other door. "Aw, I love that one."

She flicked to a shot where a baby had a bow stuck on her frizzy blonde hair like a barrette. "Focus on the location of the bow."

"Okay." She flicked again. "Aw," he repeated, in an entirely different tone. "Poor baby."

"Do I have a bald spot I've never noticed?"

"Nope."

"What does it say that Thatcher really couldn't tell me apart from the daughter Lexie called spoiled, and bratty?"

"Well... She also called her a daddy's girl. Doesn't seem like you were ever that."

"Did you know Lexie was a Breyer girl? With the horses?"

"Doesn't shock me. Eidetic memory, collection handbook. Bet she could track exactly where her parents put the budget line, and adhered to it perfectly, until she figured out how to make going over their idea."

"Yeah. Sounds familiar."

"I assume nothing's hugely wrong? Not unlike you to bury a lede."

"No big boom. Several small bams," she said, and then gave him the quickest run down she could on the call. He didn't say anything immediately, and she went back to studying the portrait. How awkward would it be to ask Richard about a tree falling on Thatcher, and why did they always end up pitted against each other on Christmas? Sort of. She'd been the one to dismiss Thatcher's sincere observation as bitterness. Maybe that'd been part of why she'd answered the phone. Whenever Richard's baritone joined Owen's strumming, she'd caught herself thinking as long as I can still drink eggnog. That didn't stop her from wondering what it'd have been like to have all her Christmases end with singalongs, or start with racing Lexie down the stairs. She'd never forgotten Molly, but it'd been easy to assume that she wouldn't have been as competitive.

"Did you say yes because of our talk last night?" Derek eventually asked.

"I thought about it, but it's hard to say I've been terrible to Molly."

"Did she apologize for sneaking in to get Lexie's stuff or making you uncomfortable at the funeral?"

Meredith lowered her phone. "Are you trying to protect me from my passive aggressive baby sister?"

"I pushed you toward her father." He sighed. "Maggie and Lexie both took the first opportunity to know you. Molly has had a long time."

"I wasn't very sisterly to her while she was in a scary situation. And even Boston isn't Bahrain... I don't know why I'm defending her when I got so pissy at you over Maggie."

"It's Christmas. No decisions need to be made. Our carolers are wrapping up, and Zola wants to sing the 'Quiet Night song.' I was thinking: they've seen that I play—"

"What would I use, rhythm sticks? The cymbals Amelia's pissed about?"

"There's that piano app for the iPad."

"No way, José."

"I can get the José if that's what it takes." He picked up her empty glass. "Or just refill this a couple times."

"I cannot be the only one here who was forced into piano lessons. Someone probably liked them."

"You're the host." He stood, and then held a hand out to pull her up with him.

"You've never heard me on keys. For all you know, I suck. I do suck."

"Do you?"

"I…." She hesitated. Had she ever considered that while casting aside the veil of her mother's judgement? It'd been another thing she couldn't do well enough to please her, and every minute had sat between her and time at MGH without the risk of being sent home. "There were a couple ribbons. I wasn't great. It's been eighteen years since I touched a piano."

"You earned a couple ribbons," he corrected. "What about a keyboard?"

"Fifteen years, and I wasn't playing accompanist at dinner parties. First of all, Mom didn't throw them, and if she had, she'd have put someone else's likely-looking prodigy on display, not her embarrassment."

While Owen had been unpacking his guitar, Amelia had cried out "Freebird!" and his expression had reaffirmed Meredith's thought that they might be good for each other. When Derek came in with his, she'd followed it up with "Wonderwall!" Meredith was sure he'd been married by the time (What's the Story) Morning Glory? Came out, but his scowl at his baby sister had proved that he not only got the reference, it'd resonated. She'd known for years that "party guitar guy" had once been part of his personality, but it was hard to picture, even when he took out his guitar at a party. When he'd started strumming, she'd almost able to see the younger man who'd still felt like a band nerd with four sisters speaking over him, but had known the ease with which his fingers slid along the neck of his guitar would garner attention.

"You read music," he pointed out. "Trust me, it's muscle memory." He kissed her, warm and deep, and in the study, where it was just them. His eyes did it. She could feel herself becoming as gooey as the egg that went into classic nog; although, her current recipe was Lexie-safe. They challenged her, but playfully, without the embittered impatience she'd seen that autumn. They were encouraging. He knew she could do what he was asking.

That was how she ended up sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee-table with an iPad and a music stand made of magnatiles. The transition to digital charting had happened over two years ago, and she still couldn't touch-type on a tablet. Not having the weight of the keys under her fingers to go with the notes was all the more jarring, but Derek had been right about muscle memory. Once she could confidently return to middle C, she might be okay. She ran through scales, with Bailey and "Ah-mo" on her lap, until he tried to join in, and Amelia took him. "Gotta set your mom up for success, here."

Derek had the girls handing out quickly printed lyric sheets so no one would be tripping over themselves trying to remember them. No one who could read, anyway. One of these years she'd think to do that ahead of time, but she hadn't gotten to the point where she prepared for singalongs. Another year or two and Zola could do it for her.

"It's bright, sight, light," Sofia said, once Derek motioned for her to sit in Bailey's new chair.

"I know it," Zola replied. "I learned all the songs last year."

"I did, too!"

"You were too little to rememberize them. Fours only needed a refresher."

Okay, Meredith might need to have another talk with her about how little those six months between them meant. Actually, that should probably be a Derek conversation. She'd gotten used to assuming he wouldn't be available, or if he was, he'd act so put-upon that asking wasn't worth the hassle. He'd catch himself and change tune if it had to do with the kids, but there were only so many timesa woman could take getting, "what, Meredith?" snapped at her. It was difficult to attribute that air of infectious misery to the man tuning a guitar on the couch opposite her. If the NIH job had revived that spark in him, she could figure out how to live with it.

"We're ready!" Zola announced, and the adults having side conversations immediately refocused their attention.

"Sing just as loud as that, love-bug, make sure no one can hear me messing up."

"You can do it, Momma."

I love how easily you can dismiss me. She kind of did. Zola knew when she was serious, because she had an alternative to compare it to.

She curled her fingers above the iPad and met Derek's eyes. "On my count," he said, his tone lower than it was in the OR, but just as steady. "One…two…three."

There was no ghost guiding Meredith's hands through this. The pads of her fingers slipped in steps that weren't possible with black keys above white, and she had to think to translate notation into movement. There were old recital pieces she might've been able to play without music, but she didn't think she'd ever played this.

Once the bars began to repeat, she dared to glance over the top of the page. Derek was looking at the fretboard while his fingers found a new chord. His guitar skills hadn't been boxed away for fifteen years. The OT had suggested it as a dexterity exercise, and every night for a few weeks Zola had danced around like he was the Boss himself. Then he'd returned to work, and it'd gone back on the wall. He could move much more smoothly, now, and she could see his frustration in retrospect. Once he'd pressed down the correct strings, he caught her looking, right before she had to check the notes.

In lieu of a conductor, a skilled percussionist strode to adjust for the minute differences in individual instruments, voices included. It only started at simply keeping time. In this position Meredith's focus was on keeping up, but she heard each singer individually. She searched out the new voices. Maggie had definitely had "choir" as one of her many socializing extra-curricular. Amelia and Carolyn harmonized with each other perfectly, and she doubted they realized it. Behind her, the little girls were proving that they knew the sounds more than the words, like opera singers who'd learned a song phonetically.

She and Derek caught each other again at "shepherds quake," and she smiled back at the quirk of his lips. It was the spirit of what they'd had in the OR, energy passing between their gazes. They weren't playing the same instrument, but it didn't change how well they stayed in sync.

Close to the end of the last verse, his eyes cut upward, just enough to keep her from startling when Callie touched her shoulder. She made a rewinding gesture, and while the majority of the voices faded out, Callie picked up Sofia. Meredith, Derek, and Owen started again.

"Noche de paz/Noche de amor," Callie sang, and Meredith slowed to accommodate her prompting Sofia. "Todo duerme en derredor."Callie's voice was always gorgeous, but Meredith didn't think she was imagining that it sounded stronger today; never wavering through verses sung almost entirely solo.

Sofia joined her confidently on the final refrain, and underneath everyone cheering for her, Meredith heard Zola exclaim, "That was so pretty, Sofi!"

She didn't expect Derek to start again, and she scrambled to catch up, the screen of the iPad suddenly so bright that she had to squint to find her fingering without a physical guide. She looked up and down at the print out, and she could feel Derek watching, willing her to look at him. The pull was as magnetic as the pieces holding her music in place, but she didn't give into it. She could figure it out, or she couldn't.

"Douce nuit, sante nuit/Dans les cieux, l'astre luit/La mystère announcé s'accompli."

She found the notes, and took another second to process the rest of what was happening. Amelia's voice was far more tentative than it had been, and when she chanced a glance over, she saw that Miranda had her namesake and Amelia was holding her phone, her thumb held up like she'd been searching as frantically as Meredith. Carolyn's soprano was leading, and Maggie's was a thread until Carolyn nodded at her.

Meredith finally allowed herself to look at Derek. He grinned at her. She jerked her eyes to his mom and sister, and he shook his head. She smirked. He'd gone to the same French preschool Amelia had, but whatever signal Carolyn had given them hadn't been intense enough to get Guitar Guy to put himself quite that far out there. That fear, not of failure, but being seen as a failure might be what separated them the most. He avoided it by going in confident, or not going in. That was what had held him back the past month.

If she hadn't been able to do this, she would've pretended it didn't matter, because letting people know what she felt gave them the chance to judge. The more people who knew she was having fun—that she could feel the peace between Amelia and Carolyn strengthening, and that she was proud of Maggie for joining them—the more people could hurt her.

Not everyone in this room knew the stories behind every charm on her bracelet, but they knew enough. If Derek could stab and twist one of those blades any one of them could. She was so tired of hurting, but she was also tired of being angry and closed off. Especially if this was what the alternative felt like. Even with only three voices singing, the room crackled, every attentive breath adding to the warmth. Bailey had his head on Miranda's shoulder, and Elmo's hand in his mouth, his eyes fixed on Amelia. Derek's lips moved slightly at the third refrain, the music stored somewhere apart from what he thought he knew. A place that, it was theorized, was not affected by Alzheimer's or dementia. One day, would the hours she spent miserably on a piano bench be there when this memory wasn't? She hoped not, but it would mean keeping something of herself; something her mother hadn't had. Something almost no one knew she had.

Silence fell as the last string vibrated, everyone glancing around the room, expectantly. "Anyone else?" Meredith finally asked. "I definitely wasn't learning the lyrics to 'Astro del Ciel' when I studied abroad."

"You know that's what it's called," Jo pointed out.

"I'm not a monster, Wilson."

The resident blinked, and then went pink. Yeah, those rumors were true. She'd absolutely coined Medusa. Laughter rang out through the room, and Meredith took a sip of her refreshed eggnog. How was that for conducting?

She'd barely swallowed when Zola screamed, "you're wrong!" She dove backward in time to keep her daughter's pinching fingers from closing over Sofia's arm.

The younger girl shrieked, regardless. "Tell her, Mama!" she ordered, wrapping her arms around Callie, who'd sat down by the chairs, but obviously hadn't been listening to their whispers. "Not a party!"

"I didn't say THAT!"

"Hey, hey," Meredith gathered Zola onto her lap. "What's going on?"

"She messing up," Sofia said, her thumb on her lower lip.

"You don't know everything 'bout Christmas! You don't even know that San—"

"Zola," Meredith interrupted. "You want to confirm your facts?"

"I know it!" Zola countered, but didn't follow through with the last minute Big Truth. "It's the baby Jesus's birthday, you said."

"That's what's being celebrated, yeah."

"And they had candles—"

"Not party candles," Sofia interrupted.

Callie tapped her mouth. "Let Zo-Zo talk, mija."

"She got it—"

"And…and Shepherd's cake! So, so you said he wanted to share!"

"Okay," Meredith said. Great, we did traumatize her.

"I blew out the candle, and I got a wish!"

"Nu-uh! It not yours! I'm be four next."

"I know it!"

"Time out!" Callie made a T with her hands between the girls. "Zola, you made a wish when you blew out the candle at church?"

"Yes, and I can't tell it."

"It not—!"

"It's not the same as your birthday cake, that's true," Callie said, smoothing Sofia's hair. "What is a wish? It's reminding yourself you want something. Telling it to the universe. To God, to Jesus, to Santa. It's a prayer. A hope, a big one, sometimes. We wish for a lot on Christmas. For gifts, but also for good things, and happiness. For ourselves, and our friends and family. You follow me, ladies?" The girls nodded, and Meredith almost copied them. "On your birthdays, we all sing about wishing you you a happy birthday, and you think about what will make you happiest.

"On Christmas Eve, in that moment when the candles are going out, everything is still, and everyone is thinking about nice things? I think it's a good time to think about your wish for the world."

"We talked about birthday magic last night, didn't we, Zo?" Meredith added. "But there are lots of times to make wishes. On stars, and eyelashes, and four-leaf clovers. I don't know if any of them work better than the others, but I don't think any of them are wrong. I don't think there's a bad time to want good things."

Sofia drew her eyebrows together, and for a second she was all Mark. "I wanna ask Grams."

"Works for me," Callie said. "Good for you, Grey?"

"Go for it." The girls clasped hands before running off to find Carolyn. "You had me, for the record."

"Oh, I was paraphrasing Miranda. She and Carolyn might be the only ones around here who really have a clue."

"Yeah," Meredith agreed. "That sounds about right."