"Angela, what are you doing? Do you even know what time it is?" Johnny asked, coming up behind his sister. Angela shrugged. She was hunched over her desk, furiously scribbling notes on a piece of stationary.

"You're splattering ink," Johnny said flatly.

"I know."

"What are you doing? It's late."

"I know," Angela repeated, looking up from her desk. "I'm not going to be able to sleep if I don't exhaust myself. I just have too much on my mind."

"Fine. Whatever. But for the hundredth time, what are you doing?!"

"Well, this," Angela pointed to a cardboard box sitting near her feet, "is a gift for Danny and Ryan in Boston."

Johnny knelt and peered into the box. "A wreath-hey, that's a really nice wreath!"

"I had it shipped in from Atlanta," Angela said absently.

"And you have some...Swiss cheese?"

"Well, I couldn't send them anything like sausage or something. I mean, Danny owns a butcher shop, they see enough of the stuff around there. So I figured some nice cheese..."

Johnny laughed. "You always give people food for gifts."

"No, I don-" Angela paused briefly, trying to recall the gifts she had given in the past. "All right, so I do give food a lot. Not always, but most of the time. Well, hey, it's a useful gift!"

"Yes, yes, it is," Johnny complied. "Now, what is this?"

"Well, this is a letter for Danny and Ryan and this," Angela shuffled her papers, "it a shopping list and this is a possible menu and then this is a sketch of how I want the house set up on Christmas eve."

"You made a..." Johnny sighed, "sketch. You actually bothered to sketch...ok, fine." Johnny shook his head.