Page 20 of Grace & Henry's Holiday Movie Marathon
“Smart,” I say.
This is where an awkward pause might go, but there isn’t one. Although we’re on the phone, it feels like we’re still by her parents’ firepit watching Harry Styles chase her kids.
“I’m sexually dead inside, too,” I say. “I thought maybe it was just me.”
“Nope. I’ve researched it. A small percentage of grievers go all spring break and nail everything that moves. Most of us, though? Full sexual lobotomy.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
The cast ofThe Family Stoneis watching me have this conversation, so I feel like I should be eating cereal with a young Rachel McAdams. I turn the TV off and ask Grace if she likes holiday movies.
“I guess,” she says. “Are there people who don’t?”
I move to the window. An Amazon truck is triple-parked. A guy gliding past on a rented scooter gives it the finger. “We used to watch them together,” I say. “Brynn and me.”
“Oh,” she says. “Gotcha.”
“I know,” I say, “everyone does, right? But it was kind of our thing. A few weeks after we started dating, we figured out that we both loved holiday movies. So, every year about now, we’d start watching them. One every night till Christmas.”
“Everynight?”
“You’d be surprised how many there are. And they keep making them.”
She breathes out, one of those sighs that sounds like she gets it. “Us, too. Maybe noteverynight. But yeah. Tim lovedDie Hard. I guess that’s not really a Christmas movie, because of—”
“Oh no, it is,” I say. “There’s a big argument on the internet about it every year. It totally is, though. Christmas bells are ringing when Bruce Wills shoots Hans Gruber at the end, right?”
“Just like in the Bible.”
I laugh, then thereissilence, but not awkward. “We liked to start withThe Family Stone,” I say. “Then we always finished withLove Actually.”
“That’s sweet,” says Grace. “Can I ask, though, why you and Brynn bookended your holidays with two complete pieces of shit?”
It’s like I’ve been slapped. “Excuse me? Are you kidding?”
“I’m not,” she says. “They’re objectively bad movies, Henry.”
I sit, then immediately stand. “It would’ve been helpful the other day if you’d mentioned that you’re insane.”
Her voice turns away. “Harry Styles, put that down. That’s not yours.”
“Your cases againstThe Family StoneandLove Actually,” I say. “I need to hear them immediately.”
“Okay, I’ll start with the lesser of two evils.Love Actuallyhas its moments, granted, but it’s aged about as well as gas station sushi.”
“What?”
“Henry, the fat jokes about that poor British girl? Come on. And why does nobody talk about how Keira Knightley was freaking seventeen when they shot that movie? She was legally a child!”
“Oh,” I say. “Really? Okay, but—”
“On toThe Family Stone,” she says. “A real feel-good family romp, right? Yeah, except for the sister swapping!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dermot What’s-His-Face and the Wilson guy.”
“LukeWilson.”
