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this is my Uncle Lot,” and Nancy thought to herself, “This here?”
    Lot just stared at her at first, looking her up and down.
    â€œLooks like you put on a little weight since I seen you in the wedding pictures,” he said. Nancy looked up at her husband’s uncle, who stood at least a foot taller.
    â€œI hope to lose it soon,” she said, angry at herself for blushing. And then she saw something in his expression that made her wonder if what she mistook for rough kidding about her pregnancy wasn’t just a combination of rudeness and unawareness. But then everyone started scrambling to get dinner on the table, and she didn’t have time to think about it.
    The Chastains always ate before they opened the presents. Their first Christmas together, Nancy thought it strange that Sam felt obliged to buy something for all three of his aunts, his Uncle Lot, Grace and Holly’s husbands, Aileen’s son from New Jersey, Holly’s daughters, Carlie and Zoe, who were in town from Washington and Charlotte, plus their children, plus Sam’s father’s first cousin, Pete Bondurant, who always had Christmas with the Chastains. But, the first Christmas they spent at the old Chastain place, she was glad she and Sam had bought everyone something, because everyone had bought them something. The tree was piled high with the token gifts of 18 people, most of them with gifts for the other 17. None of the presents they bought Sam’s family cost more than $10, and Nancy tried not to notice that the ones they got back cost a good deal less than that: Whitman’s Samplers and scarves and gift certificates at McDonald’s.
    As with the Christmas before, it took half the afternoon to open the gifts, with Aileen, Grace and Holly taking turns playing Santa Claus and everyone pretending that every gift was perfect, a treasure dreamed of for years. Nancy’s face hurt.
    Sometime in mid-afternoon, Lot started complaining that he wished everybody wouldn’t make such a fuss about Christmas, that this wasn’t what the baby Jesus had in mind, that it was a sin to spend this much. He was feeling bad, Nancy thought, because he didn’t get anyone any gifts and they’d all brought him something for when he came home later. But when Holly gently suggested what Nancy had been thinking, Lot’s face reddened, and he got up and stomped out the door before anyone could stop him.
    â€œHe’s just having one of his spells,” Aileen said in the silence he left in his wake, and Grace sighed.
    But then, half an hour later, while Grace’s husband Walter was showing Zoe how to crack walnuts with her hands, and Sam’s aunts, who everyone referred to collectively as “the girls,” were gathering used wrapping paper, saving the bows, Lot came back, his hair more askew than it had been before. His nails were dirty, and his sleeves, as if he’d been digging.
    He walked over to Cole McMeans, Grace’s husband, put something in his hand, and said, “Merry Christmas, Cole.” Cole, a balding, slight man who seemed uncomfortable among the Chastains, mumbled a thank-you.
    â€œI might be poor, but I might not be as poor as you all think,” he said, amid protests.
    He handed something to Zoe, something shiny. She thanked him, but he’d already gone on to Carter.
    When he got near her, Nancy saw that he was giving away silver dollars. He had a small bag full of them, and when he got to her, he gave her two.
    â€œI reckon you think I didn’t know you was expectin’,” he said, with that same half-mocking smile. “That’s one for each of you. And bring him to see me when he’s born.”
    â€œThank you,” Nancy said. “I will.”
    â€œShe’s got good manners,” Lot said, turning to Sam, “for a Richmond girl.”
    He finished his rounds, giving what was left to Carlie’s and Zoe’s children, who were