Page 26 of Grace & Henry's Holiday Movie Marathon
Now we’re all squinting at the dog. Harry Styles has been uncharacteristically subdued for the last few minutes. Then I see why. A wispy, pinkish tail hangs from his mouth, waving slightly, like a worm marooned on cement.
“Oh my god,” I say.
“Harry Styles,” says Grace. “Drop it.” The dog stands his ground, so she says it again, lower and slower. “Drooooooop it.”
When Harry Styles finally opens his mouth, a terrified, slobber-covered mouse hits the floor with a wet thud. As it scrambles to its feet and dashes for the spot beneath the fridge, despite trying really, really hard not to, I scream again.
“Just to be clear, I’mnot afraid of mice, like, per se. I’ve just never been confronted with them like that, like they were coming after me.”
“Oh, I totally get it,” Grace says. “Mice are famously violent in this part of town.”
We’re outside standing by my car. The weird Thanksgiving heatwave broke, so it actually feels like fall tonight. Grace has a big jacket over her shoulders, clearly Tim’s.
“How many do you think you have?” I ask. “I feel like three mice means more than three mice.”
“I know how it looks, us living with vermin. It’s complicated, though.”
“Let me talk to my brother,” I say. “He’s a competent person. Maybe he could help you get rid of them.”
“I know how to get rid of mice, Henry. That’s not the complicated part.” She looks out at her neighborhood. The people across the street have three lit-up reindeer in their yard. “We can’t kill them. That’s the problem.”
“Why?”
“The kids like them. And…well, they know what death is. They know what it means.”
“Oh,” I say. “Right. Shit.”
From the front door, Harry Styles and the kids watch us. I wave, but only Ian waves back. “This was fun, by the way,” I say. “Thanks for having me.”
Grace laughs. “What was your favorite part, me passing out or the rodent attack?”
I laugh, too. “The popcorn fish, probably. Plus, I went through a few of your drawers while you were asleep. Found some pretty good stuff.”
The neighbors’ reindeer turn off just then because it’s getting late. Leaves skitter by along the sidewalk.
“You cried at the end of the movie, didn’t you?” she asks.
“Maybe a little,” I say.
“Mom?” It’s Bella. She’s on the front stoop now holding my empty M&M’s wrapper. “Did you guys have M&M’s without me?”
“Oh shit,” Grace whispers. She tells Bella to go back inside because it’s cold, and Bella does, but not before glaring at both of us.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Just bring a bigger bag next time.”
I should go but I don’t want to just yet. Those two words, “next time,” were maybe the nicest anyone’s said to me in a long time, like I’m welcome here. Plus, aside from the crying and then all the screaming, this really has been fun. “You ever do that?” I ask. “You know, cry when you think of him?”
She hugs her dead husband’s jacket across her chest. “Who me? Never. Definitely not one time at Whole Foods when they played a goddamn Neil Diamond song.”
It’s not funny, but it is.
Then she asks if I’ve ever thought of leaving, and I’m mortified.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I was just about to take off. Thanks again for—”
“No, dummy,” she says. “Not leavingnow. I mean…leaving.”
