The Tano manor, on principle, looked a bit lost right where it sat, nestled in the Western Slopes of the Rocky Mountains. It was angle upon angle of domestic opulence, as through trying to compete, design-wise, with the slopes themselves.

A tiny, bright blue little Mazda zipped in off the county road, hurling itself past the gate towards the manor. Decelerating at an alarming rate, its driver whirled around the fountain in the wide driveway, finally settling in the five-stall garage. Moments later, 17-year-old Jadeling Tano jogged out from the side door in her Ugg boots, dark jeans, black peacoat with its fur-trimmed hood, with lanyard keys catching in the mountain sunlight. She skittered up the front porch, and flung herself at the door.

Those inside the house and near the front foyer could always tell whenever Jadeling was home. She never simply opened a door and then stepped through it; it was always a flurry of fumbles, of trying to input the numbers for the lock as fast as possible rather than doing it slower.

Jade finally stepped inside, peeling her sunglasses off. The foyer blinked back at her in patchy dark spots; her eyes needed time to adjust. She pushed the door shut behind her. "Mom?"

The Christmas tree winked at her from the family room. It was larger than last year, probably due to their impending company, stretching high to the vaulted ceiling, even though its angel top had room to spare. Jade fixated on it as her vision returned, following the streamers emanating from the tree, down the hall, and then to the living room.

"Mooom?"

Something smelled delicious. Jade took a few steps off the stone floor towards the kitchen, but stopped short, turning on her heel to slip out of her boots, remembering the usual protocol. Once in stocking feet, she ran full speed on the hardwood of the open dining room, throwing her weight back, and then skidded beautifully all the way into the kitchen with the sort of ease only many years of practice could bring.

There was on one in the kitchen, however. The stainless steel appliances were quietly whirring, but no humans.

"Mooooooom!"

Again, came her cry. Jade shrugged out of her peacoat, hanging it on the rack back out in the hall, revealing a deep green sherpa-collar sweater. She continued down the peach-colored hall, until the house opened up further, with a sweeping staircase. She trotted up the stairs, and darted across the second floor landing.

"Mother!" Jade tried again, padding into the master bedroom.

And this was where Marcilene Hansen Tano, immaculate as ever, stood at the foot of the bed, peering into a full-size mirror. She was fixing a pair of beautiful gold earrings, giving her head a shake to feel the weight of them. "Yes, honey?"

"When're people coming over?"

"As soon as your father gets back."

"Where is he?"

"At work."

Jade flipped her long hair off her shoulder, stepping in beside her mother. The girl looked slightly out of place, considering Marcilene's elegant evening dress. "I feel like I should be more dressed up. Do I look okay?"

Marcilene turned away from the mirror, placing both hands on Jade's shoulders, and staring at her squarely. "You look lovely."

"Ugh, cousins," Jade stepped back, collapsing on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "What if they hate Colorado? What if they hate our house? I mean, it looks beautiful, and I can't wait for dinner, but what if they hate it?"

The Tano heir bolted upright, hair frizzy. "What if they hate me?"

"The good thing about your father's family," said Marcilene, amused, unfolding a diamond necklace from its satin cloth, "is that if they do hate you, they won't say it to your face."

Jade made a very loud, very long exasperated sort of sigh. "Is Jase coming?"

Marcilene's fingers fumbled with the clasp as she drew it around her neck. "I don't know, sweetie."

"Well. He's crazy if he thinks he's getting his room back. I'm not packing up my stuff again!"

___________________________________________________________________________________

Ethan Tano wore a simple black turtleneck and khakis, contrasting his lovely wife's done-up appearance rather sharply. He stood with his hands behind his back in the center of the foyer, a half hour later, while Marcilene fretted about, worrying over the decorations. Jade was downstairs, as well, sitting cross-legged on the sofa in the living room, just off from the entryway - earbuds in, iPhone on and playing something poppy, deaf to all that was happening around her.

Marcilene's eyes lingered on their daughter before she came to stand by her husband's side, rubbing her temples.

"That enchanted snow you were so excited about? Is that going to be a nightmare to clean up?"

"It's just an illusion rune, dear."

"I wish this whole thing was an illusion."

Ethan put an arm around his wife, grinning slightly. "It'll be over before you know it."

Marcilene pursed her lips, returning the impish smile. "A week's worth of foot massages that MIchael leaves before desert."

"Marcy .. "

"A month."

Ethan laughed. "They're family. It's awkward, sure, but they're family."

"When're they getting here?" Jade asked loudly, looking up, emerging from her phone.

"Any second now," replied the Head of the Tano branch, and just then, the doorbell rang.

"I do not understand why I must present myself to him for such an occasion."

"It is not a presentation of yourself, Michele, and you know that just as well as I do. It is an engagement. He is your cousin and a member of our family regardless of how your views differ. We will not reject their kind invitation. It is merely Christmas dinner."

"No doubt several courses preceded by 'family time' and mindless reminiscence."

The Galletti matriarch forced herself to maintain the calm, peaceful expression she wore like a mask in the face of her husband's childishness. They were both seated together, in one of the three conservatories that their large, lush househould played host to. Michele sat stiffly beside the window, glaring out at their garden as if it caused him personal offence simply by existing. She, Ida Galletti, was far more relaxed than Michele, though she spent most of her time feigning this cool, collected façade for all to see; at home, it was hard to tell whether or not she was truly at ease or whether her mask was a twenty-four-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week affair.

"Come now, Michele, you're acting as if this doesn't give you an opportunity to tout your esteem and position over the heads of the Tano family. They're busy branching out whilst you're busy strengthening bridges, no? So we may have to listen to them talk about Christmases gone and school achievements. Surely you can cope with a little inane chatter." Goading Michele was almost always a sure-fire way of ensuring he did exactly what was required. "You'll have Jasen and myself there to converse with. Your daughter has also been invited." Rising from her comfortable seat, Ida placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and looked down her own perfectly straight nose, past a pristine smile, at him. "You may deal with informing Jasen of our plans for Christmas. I will cajole our daughter into wearing something that isn't a trouser suit or from a High Street store."

"Robes," Michele insisted, shrugging Ida's hand from his shoulder. "We shall all wear our robes."

Ida's smile tightened. "You may wear your robes if you so wish, Michele, but I'm afraid that I've already purchased more than adequate clothing for myself. Perhaps your daughter and Jasen will join you in your robe-wearing."

That said, Ida left to confront her only child about her lack of fashion sense.

---

"What if they don't like me?"

The Gallettis and the estranged Tano were all warmly ensconced in the luxurious car that Michele had hired (along with the driver firmly not noticing how formal and chilly the family he was escorting were) to ferry from the hotel to the Tano Manor, and the voice had came from the youngest of those gathered.

"Don't be absurd, Cloasse," Ida replied, voice measured and smooth. "You do not plan on committing a grievous faux pas, do you?"

"No, Mother, but..."

"Then they should not dislike you."

Both of the Galletti women were made-up from head to toe. Ida was comfortable in her blue, knee-length, gauzy dress and delicate shawl, and her make-up flawlessly complimented her colouring and clothing. Cloasse, meanwhile, kept fussing with the multiple skirts and had managed to irritate her mother into handing over a tissue to wipe her lipstick off with before they had even left the hotel.

The remaining duration of their car ride heralded silence from all. The driver was entirely all too grateful to pull up in front of the Tano Manor and hop out of the car to open the door for his charges. He watched them file out, three of them standing tall and haughty whilst the last - the girl who had spoken up earlier, he noted with sympathy - looked around her with unhidden, wide-eyed apprehension and surprise whilst she tugged at the cardigan over her shoulders, pulling the sleeves down over her wrists as if covering the flesh there would ease her nerves.

"Stop it," her mother chided her with a tut. "You'll stretch the fabric."

The driver quietly closed the car door behind Cloasse and remained politely at the side of the car as the quartet went to the door. Unsurprisingly, the group was headed by the man in heavy blue robes and followed by the woman in the matching dress, and the younger pair followed still.

"Are we early?" Michele mused aloud with a smirk. "I thoroughly expected a red carpet and brass herald." He raised his hand and pressed the doorbell.

As the doorbell finished its four magnificent peals, Marceline gave a heavy, heavy sigh, letting her head flop forward in cartoonish misery. Her earrings jangled from the motion. Ethan prodded his wife forward, still smirking good-naturedly. "Go!"

"One month!" Marceline mouthed back, crossing the forum, heels clicking on the marble.

The tell-tale clak, clak, clak drew Jade from her world more than the doorbell had. She twisted around in her seat, plucking iPhone buds from her ear in time to watch her mother stand at the door, steel herself, and pull it open. Jade's imagination launched into overdrive, and she likened the scene to her mother opening the cage where a million unfriendly tigers were housed, rather than simply letting in members of their family.

No! Mommy! Don't do it! We love you!

But the deed was already done. Marceline pulled open the door, and the fresh Colorado winter light spilled into the foyer.

"Ida! So lovely to see you. Michele, Cloasse, come in - please!"

Jade scrambled off the couch, leaving her iPhone behind, eyebrows knitted together. She padded across the foyer as dark shapes began filing inside. There was only one name she wanted to hear.

"Jase .. "

Marceline managed to speak the name of her estranged son without faltering, or breaking. She clasped him to her in an awkward one-armed hug, and then let him pass on to where Jade stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest.

"You!" she pointed at her older brother, eyes narrowed, ignoring the others. "You have my phone charger."

A beat passed. From behind them all, buried deeper in the foyer, Ethan clapped his hands.

"Michele! So good to see you again!" the Tano head boomed, striding forward. "You look good."

Ida smiled graciously when Marcilene opened the door, and stepped eagerly in front of her husband to meet the woman with a fond, if slightly stiff, peck on the cheek before she went further into the Tano household. Michele was far less eager to meet his extended family once again, particularly with the youngest of the other three sticking her fingers out at innocent prodigies (Jase was his pride and joy, after all) willy-nilly.

"Ah, Ethan... Yes, terribly good to see you again, too. I'm sure the sentiment is shared by the rest of my family. You've met Ida before, of course, and you know Jasen." If that wasn't a veiled insult, Michele was a pleasant man.

"And this is our daughter, Cloasse," Ida continued, smiling demurely at those gathered. "I'm sure she's not far from your own daughter's age - hello, Jadeling, dear."

Cloasse looked rather like a fish out of water; if the skirts and the shawls weren't bad enough, the way she awkwardly stood apart from the rest of her family, staring at them as if they were about to reprimand her for standing on the wrong inch of perfectly clean flooring, certainly was. Her gaping stare of amazement moved from Jase's parents and sister to the Christmas tree - now this was something new, this socialising with family.

"You have a beautiful home," the Galletti daughter offered cautiously, gesturing with a tattooed finger towards the tree. "It's very... seasonal."

Michele shook his head as he stared down his nose at the decked hall. "Yes, certainly. Ida, did you not have something similar set up last year?"

"Nothing quite so intricate, Michele," Ida replied, sharing a pointed look with Marcilene. "Do tell, Marcy, where it was that you procured those delightful baubles?"

"I made them myself! None are from this year, though. Things have been terribly busy; I haven't had a chance to just sit down," Marceline returned the baton passed to her. Although a measured, controlled woman, Marcy couldn't maintain consistent eye contact with Ida. Too often her gaze darter to Jase, at Michele's side - taking in his robes, the stubble on his chin, how he stood, how he seemed.

Sensing the strain, Ethan stepped forward to his wife's side, letting her wedge her arm through his. Marceline closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she turned her stare on Cloasse - standing so awkwardly, so uncomfortably to the side, and said three warm words that the Galletti heir had likely never heard:

"You look beautiful, Cloasse!"

Beautiful? The Tano heir pushed her hair behind one ear, her nervous trait. She dug her phone from her pocket, unlocked it with a click, and began to idly scroll through an inbox she knew full well hadn't received any new messages, all the while Ida and Marceline continued their light-hearted, idle chatter. Oh my God. I'm so underdressed!

Jade had known vaguely of Cloasse's existence, but trying to remember when they might have been together yielded precious little. All Jade could recall was the pale face, like a ghost of a memory. Nothing else.

"How are you, son?" Ethan spoke, now. In her periphery vision, Jade could still see Jasen standing stock-still at Michele's side, as though waiting for him to give a command. "We've missed you."

Ida and Marceline fell to silence, no longer able to suspend their high-wire act. All eyes were on Jase, who stared back at them behind hair darker, curlier, longer, more unruly than it had been years ago.

"I'm good," replied Jasen Tano-Galletti. "What're we eating?"