“Of course, she will, honey. It’s Thanksgiving.” The lie tasted bitter. Jessica had spent last Christmas making snide comments about my weight, my job, my situation with being divorced. Mom had laughed along, saying Jessica was “just being funny” and I was “too sensitive.” Dad had buried himself in football games, pretending not to hear. But this year would be different. I’d brought homemade pumpkin pies, spent money I didn’t really have on nice wine, and even bought new outfits for the kids so Jessica couldn’t make comments about them looking shabby. We were going to have a nice family holiday.