By the time the sun dips low over the snow-covered street, your house is full of warmth and the sound of soft laughter. The scent of roasted vegetables, cinnamon, and something buttery fills the air. Emily is in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, carving the ham like she’s been doing it her whole life, and you’re on the floor in the living room with Olivia.

She’s standing now—wobbly, uncertain, but standing. Her little fingers clutch the edge of the coffee table for balance as she flashes you a proud, gap-toothed grin. “Mama!” she squeals, her voice high and delighted.

You grin back, heart swelling. “Yeah, baby, I see you! You’re standing all by yourself.”

She takes one shaky step, then another, before toppling gently into your arms. You scoop her up, laughing. “You’re getting too big too fast,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Emily pokes her head around the corner, smiling at the sight. “Did she just walk again?”

“She did,” you say proudly. “Three steps this time. You almost missed it.”

Emily comes over, wiping her hands on a towel, and crouches down beside you. “Hey, Liv,” she says softly. “You’re not supposed to be growing up this fast. Didn’t we talk about this?”

Olivia giggles, her new favorite word tumbling out between laughs. “Mama,” she repeats, patting Emily’s face like she’s telling her she’s forgiven.

Emily’s expression melts completely. “I’ll take that as an apology.”

You lean your head against Emily’s shoulder, the two of you watching your daughter babble nonsense to her stuffed reindeer. “She’s going to be talking in full sentences before we know it,” you say quietly.

“And running,” Emily adds with a groan. “Which means we’re officially done sitting down ever again.”

You laugh, nudging her playfully. “You love it. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Maybe a little,” she admits. “I like watching you with her.”

Before you can reply, there’s a knock at the door, followed by Penelope’s unmistakable voice calling, “Ho, ho, ho, open up! Santa’s here and she brought wine!”

You snort. “Guess the team’s here.”

Emily stands, offering you a hand up. “You ready for the chaos?”

You balance Olivia on your hip, grinning. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

When you open the door, the living room fills quickly — Penelope in glittering red, JJ juggling a stack of presents, Rossi already making himself at home by the fireplace. The noise should be overwhelming, but it isn’t. It’s warm, easy. Family.

JJ takes Olivia from your arms, cooing as the baby babbles something that sounds suspiciously like “JJ.” Emily shoots you an amused look from across the room. “She’s collecting names now,” she says.

You smile, settling beside her on the couch as everyone else falls into their usual rhythm — laughter, wine glasses clinking, the fire crackling in the background. Olivia is passed from one pair of arms to another, gleefully showing off her new walking skills to the cheers of her honorary aunts and uncles.