“What time are they all coming again,” I ask Alice from the dining room table as she flies through the house. She’s been a little off lately, nervous and on edge. I keep telling her to relax, that this is just like any other family party we host every week. “It’s like…” I look at my watch. “Babe, it’s 8am.”

Alice has her arms full of wrapped gifts she stacks by family unit. I see a six-pack of our favorite hazy beer from Grist House on the coffee table and ...