Page 16 of Grace & Henry's Holiday Movie Marathon
I dodge a banana and shoot a turtle shell at Luigi, which Cal easily avoids.
“Here, let me slow down,” he says. “I want little Mario to see me cross the finish line.”
Cal wins and holds Kelsey’s arms up in celebration, and Kelsey giggles.
“I love you, you know,” he tells me.
“Shut up.”
“No,” he says. “I can’t shut up. Because of how much I love you.”
After Brynn died, Cal researched strategies for helping loved ones through grief. The internet’s collective wisdom boiled down to 1.)Be there for them, and 2.)Let them know you love them. That second one started out endearing but has become a joke.
“Wanna go again?” I ask.
He does, so I reset, and we’re off.
Kelsey points to the TV and laughs.
“I know, baby, it’s a blimp with a turtle on it,” Cal says. “Silly, right?”
We race in silence. Cal jumps out to an early lead.
He glances at me. “I checked on your house yesterday,” he says. “All’s good. The Christmas decorations actually make sense now.”
“Thanks,” I say, keeping my eyes on our game.
“Maybe next week we go over there? You and me. Do some organizing. Clean things up.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s a light socket acting up on your second-floor landing. Needs to be switched out. I’ll get to it.”
“Cool.”
My brother is a general contractor—a good one, too—so when I left Brynn’s and my row house on Charles Street the day of her funeral, I asked him to keep an eye on the place for me. My only request was that he not move anything or put anything away. Unfolded blankets on the couch. Brynn’s sneakers at the door. Our artificial treefully decorated in the living room because we hadn’t taken down our decorations yet. I couldn’t be there, but I hated the idea of things changing. I found an apartment over in Fells Point near the water. My neighbors now are mostly divorced dads with expensive stereo equipment.
Cal’s Luigi crosses the finish line, and we settle back into the cushions of our parents’ couch. Kelsey dozed off during that last race, so Cal secures her head with his chin.
“Thanks for the assist at dinner,” I say. “You know, Aunt Judy’s divorced lady.”
“Sure,” he says. “Although, sounds like she’s got quite the body on her.”
“Be that as it may.”
“Right,” he says, “because obviously you’re not ready to even think about…”
“No,” I say.
“Because if you were…”
“Cal,” I say.
He sets his controller down, adjusts Kelsey’s head. “Just listen. I finished this job a few weeks ago. A children’s bookstore. The owner is this lady, Meredith. She’s so cool. And pretty, and just…just the biggest nerd. She’s like you if you were a girl. Every time I talk to her, I’m like, she’s perfect for Henry.”
I don’t say anything.
“I’m worried about you,” he says.
