A few plain moves for the moment an aunt or uncle has you cornered, the questions keep coming, and the whole room seems to be waiting on your answer.

For the two of everything, the schedule you didn’t ask to hold, and the tiredness of being fine at both tables when you’d rather just be somewhere.

For the new last names and inside jokes you were not there for, and for belonging at your own pace instead of blending on someone else’s schedule.

For the aunt with a thought about your body, the uncle with a thought about your grades, and handling the comment with your dignity intact and a limit that is yours.

For the empty chair no one looks at, the tradition that hurts now, and getting through a day that used to be theirs too.

For the days when going home is the hard part, and for knowing this was never yours to fix alone, and there are people whose actual job is to help you carry it.

For the first time you bring a partner to a gathering, and for the nerves on both sides, when two of your worlds are about to meet at one table.

For growing into your own way of seeing things at a table that still assumes the old one, and for staying yourself, kindly, without it turning into a fight.

For the college question, the plan question, the what-next, and for answering with a little grace when the honest answer is that you haven’t figured it out yet.

A few plain moves for the holiday when both houses are counting on you, saying yes to one feels like letting the other down, and you never asked to be in the middle.

A few plain moves for the moment the loaded topic lands on the table, the room tightens, and you can feel a fight starting to build around you.