“Welcome.” There was a particular dark intensity to her voice. I smiled helplessly, holding out the bag of wine. Looking inside, her own smile widened. The expression she gave me was gentle and a little amused, as if she found the gesture more adorable than anything else.

The Christmas table was laid with a bohemian collection of mismatched silverware and wine glasses, already filled. The scent of the food was almost intoxicating on its own: on a sprawl of bright plates ...