One Week In December by Holly Chamberlin

house.
    Immediately, and in spite of being absorbed with her own emotionally fraught situation, Becca noted an air of tension between her sister and brother-in-law. And she figured if she could sense it, then pretty much everyone else could, too. Well, maybe not David. David was always all about David. You could fall down in front of him and he’d walk right over your body, his attention caught by something more important to him, like a cinnamon roll or someone dropping garbage in the recycling bin.
    James Moody was of middling height and build. While he’d put on a few pounds over the years, and while his hair had gone prematurely silver, he was, most people thought, still a handsome man. Part of his attractiveness, Becca thought now, watching him greet his in-laws, was his seemingly complete lack of pretension or guile.
    Becca shifted her attention to her older sister, Olivia Rowan-Moody. At the moment, she was giving her mother a hug while simultaneously ordering James to do something with her bag. Olivia didn’t have the long and lean frame shared by Steve, Becca, Rain, and to a lesser extent, David. Like her mother and youngest sister, Olivia was of medium height and middling weight. Her hair was a light shade of brown; Becca couldn’t help but note that it was now streaked quite liberally with gray. Where Olivia had gotten her dark blue eyes was anyone’s guess. They weren’t the “Rowan eyes,” but neither were they the cow brown Julie and Lily shared. Becca tried to remember if her grandfather had had blue eyes, but she couldn’t summon a clear enough picture in her mind. That, she realized, was something she wouldn’t like to admit to her family. They already thought her self-centered enough.
    James came over to Becca now and they shared a brief hug. “You’re looking well, Becca,” he said.
    Becca smiled at him. “You, too, James,” she lied. In fact, she’d never seen him look so unhappy.
    Somehow, Olivia managed to avoid an official greeting with her younger sister. Becca wasn’t sure how she pulled it off but she had, and Becca didn’t feel in the least slighted.
    Julie ushered Olivia and James off to the Queen Anne’s Lace Room while Nora, with Lily’s and Naomi’s help, finished preparing dinner. Aware that she, too, should be helping in the kitchen, but not feeling overly guilty about her dereliction of duty, Becca chose instead to join Rain in the living room, where she was entertaining her brothers by gustily singing the theme song from SpongeBob SquarePants. Becca had caught the show once, by accident. She’d liked it but would never admit that to her family.
    Dinner was at seven that evening. The Rowans gathered at the big table, complete now since the arrival of Olivia and James. Becca had little appetite, but to excuse herself from dinner would be disastrous for her plan. She wanted to catch her family off guard. She wanted them to feel as bad as she felt. So she sat at the table and pretended that all was well.
    Julie came to the table, carrying a massive platter on which sat a large roast surrounded by sliced potatoes, carrots, and parsnips.
    â€œAh, the perfect roast beef!” David rubbed his hands in a gesture of appreciation and anticipation.
    Nora brought in a large bowl of mashed potatoes; Becca spied several large squares of butter melting on top. Red meat, slabs of butter. She was sure she’d have cholesterol poisoning, if there were such a thing, by the time she got back to Boston. She’d call her trainer first thing in the morning and schedule a few additional sessions with him. And she’d go on a strict diet of low-fat foods for a few weeks. The last thing she wanted was to have to rely on medication to manage a situation a little self-control and willpower could handle.
    â€œMay I have the gravy?” Olivia asked.
    Julie passed a large, silver-plated gravy boat to her daughter. Olivia