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We settle at one of the small standing tables under the heat lamp. The steam from the cider curls into the cold air.

“How’s the house work going?” Taylen asks.

“Slow. But we think we might be in by the end of January.”

“That soon?”

“Foster has been doing a lot of the work himself. My schedule has been a block of red these last two months, so he took over most of the renovation stuff.”

Bastian sets his mug down.

“That new home-improvement hobby is still not something I expected of him.”

“Believe me, neither did I. He watched three YouTube videos and started tiling the guest bathroom. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, and I quote, ‘saving us fifteen thousand dollars.’”

Taylen chokes on his cider.

“Fifteen thousand dollars?”

“That is what the guy from Burlington quoted us.”

Bastian shakes his head. “Finn, have you actually clocked that you’re dating a millionaire? Twice over.”

“I try not to think about it.”

“Hell, does he remember that fifteen thousand dollars is a rounding error for him, and he’s tilling a bathroom?”

“He likes doing it. He says it makes his brain quiet.”

“His brain is quiet already, Finn. He’s the calmest person I know.”

“Not on the inside. He needs to be doing something with his hands.”

Taylen sips his cider and looks at me over the rim. Love really suits my best friend. Before, there was always something sharp at Taylen’s edges, like he wasn’t quite forgiving of life for taking his brother away. The feeling may not have changed, but he’s now happier. Settled. And in large part, that’s due to my brother.

“Speaking of gifts,” I say slowly, turning to Bastian. “How did the wrapping go this year, big brother?”

The color rises up Bastian’s neck immediately.

“We weren’t speaking of gifts.”

“We are now,” I say, throwing a quick wink at Taylen.

“Finn.”

“I’m just asking. Did Mom help you again, or did you manage on your own this time?”

“Wait.” Taylen’s eyes narrow. “Is this about my present?”

“There is no present.”

“There is absolutely a present,” I say. “I saw it on the kitchen table three days ago when I dropped off Mom’s cranberry sauce. And I have to say, Bastian, it’s the most beautifully wrapped thing I have ever seen come out of your hands.”

Bastian is now fully pink.

“Shut up.”

“Truly. The ribbon work alone is chef’s kiss. I asked Mom if she’d done it and she said, and I quote, ‘Griffin, your brother spent hours on that. Do not tease him.’”