Yes. Yes, it is.
I didn’t even know my parents had been playing pickleball together every night for the last two months until Karli told me she volunteered me to play with them. And apparently, Lennox is still dealing with some postpartum anxiety, but I never would have guessed.
Karli has a way of discovering things about people they never would share with a stranger, and I find myself in awe of her. She’s better at being part of my family than I am.
“This is incredible,” Karli says, holding up a forkful of green bean casserole. Judging by the full dish, no one else has given it a chance. “And the rolls, the turkey, everything. Amazing.”
“Why, thank you, Karli.” Mom beams.
“Hey, I mashed the potatoes all by myself,” Dad pipes in.
“Needs more salt.” Grandma harumphs.
“Dad!” Lennox screeches. “What are you doing to my baby?”
All eyes fall on my dad who is holding a spoonful of mashed potatoes to Emmett’s mouth. There’s already a glob of potatoes on the baby's nose and he’s eagerly smacking his lips for more.
Dad pulls the spoon away with a guilty expression. “I’m just letting him smell it.”
“We haven’t given him potatoes yet. What if he’s allergic?” Lennox says.
Dad raises an amused brow. “To potatoes?”
“To the additives, like milk and butter.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t give him pie until Christmas,” Dad says.
“Dad!” Lennox protests, but Dad winks, and the rebuttal dies on her tongue. Grant gives her arm a reassuring squeeze and she leans into him, clearly exhausted.
“I know what I’m doing,” Dad says. “You all turned out just fine.”
“You realize we are three for four right now, dear?” Mom teases.
“That’s still a C average,” Dad chuckles.
I find Karli’s leg under the table and squeeze. When she glances at me, her smile is as wide as mine.
“Las Vegas is only five hours away,” Grandma says suddenly. “What’d you do for two days?”
Leave it to Grandma to bring up an awkward topic at the table.
“A lot of kissing,” Karli responds immediately.
My grandma looks thoroughly enthralled, but my mom doesn’t.
“She’s kidding,” I say.
“Oh right.” Karli winks at me. “Trent also learned how to break into houses and how to change a tire. He insisted he knew but I could tell he needed me to walk him through it.”
I purse my lips, fighting embarrassment and amusement. “Which she managed to do in her sleep.” I wink at her, keeping the details of her midnight escapades just between the two of us, for now.
Karli retaliates by embarrassing me with every mishap she can recall from our journey, which is quite frankly a lot. She must have been hoarding them, waiting for me to give her an opportunity to release them. After she finishes humiliating me, she regales my family with tales of her roommates and hilarious conversations overheard in the restaurant where she works, though I notice she leaves her mother and her childhood out of the mix completely. The entire family is in stitches for the rest of the meal.
By the time Mom brings the pie out, my cheeks hurt from smiling, but my heart feels like it could burst. Every holiday with my family is great, but this one tops the charts. How did we laugh without Karli? How did we survive without Karli?
How did I?
Karli studies the pie, watching everyone else pick a piece first before approaching the spread herself. But once she’s got the knife in her hand, she can’t seem to choose and nearly cuts a piece of every single pie before deciding on the apple pie. My favorite.
