THE FAMILY WAS starting to come together—the great southern contingent had arrived, anyway. And of course, Jacob, Tom, and Marty were here.

“Oh, no, take it away! Take it away from my face!” Toby screamed. With a great dramatic gesture he pushed his dinner plate away. Then he yelled, “No Crazy Tuna Hash for me!”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but you don’t have to hurt somebody’s feelings.” Toby gave me a hug.

“If we knew you were cooking up the Crazy Tuna thing, Gaby, we would have driven a lot slower,” said Gus. They were the first words he’d spoken since he arrived. I gave him a playful smack on the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“Bunch of comedians,” I said, but I was so happy to have them near me. Then I added, “This gourmet delight you baptized Crazy Tuna Hash happens to be the specialty of the house. And since I was all out of canned tuna, I substituted canned salmon.”

“Oh, now, that’s a big improvement,” said Tom, who was pouring red jug wine.

“Listen. Stacey Lee is busy with the food for the wedding, so you’re stuck with my cooking tonight. I thought everybody liked this dish.”

A silence filled the room. Then everyone burst out laughing.

“Well, the salad is good. And there’s nice French bread from Stacey Lee’s store,” I said. “Now, can I help anybody with more hash?”

“Gaby-Gaby, what exactly goes into Crazy Tuna Hash?” asked Toby, perfectly innocently, I thought.

“Well, of course, there’s tuna…or occasionally salmon, if you’re very lucky…and there’s rice, and it involves some cream of mushroom soup, and some Velveeta, and a quarter cup of sherry, and almonds—which I was out of, so I used peanuts—two packages of frozen corn niblets, a can of water chestnuts…”

“We’ve heard enough. Let’s stop for a moment,” said Jacob. “I think this meal deserves an extra-special grace. Gentlemen?”

Tom stood and said, “Thank you for this meal we are about to receive. It will bring us joy and love and, clearly, it will bring us laughter.”

Marty: “We ask for health, for all of us, but especially for Mike, who couldn’t be here tonight, but who’s coming tomorrow.”

And then Jacob: “Finally, we pray for our mother and grandmother and great friend, Gaby. May she find the love and peace she so richly deserves…hopefully with me.”

As we all laughed and said “Amen,” I watched Claire looking at Tom looking at me. Then Claire smiled at me. I didn’t know if she was smiling because she thought the prayer was a good one or because she thought she had identified Tom as the groom.

I did know that the kitchen suddenly filled with a blast of cold air. We all looked over at the door.

And what to my amazed eyes should appear? Emily and Bart, of all people.

I rushed over to them. I couldn’t believe they’d gotten here two days early. I’d have been grateful if they’d been on time for “Here Comes the Bride.”

Dr. Bart—a foot taller than me—looked over my head toward the kitchen table. “Em, this is going to be the best Christmas ever,” he said.

“Why’s that? The wedding?” Emily asked as she entered the room to hugs.

“No,” said Bart. “Because it looks like they’re all out of Crazy Tuna Hash.”