Page 60 of Grace & Henry's Holiday Movie Marathon
Edward Scissorhands
Most nights, Harry Styles sleeps around a little before he ends up in my bedroom. Ha, I know, right?
Bella winds down first, so he’ll nap with her and her stuffed animals. He’ll move to Ian’s room next and doze while my son goes through his nightly routine. Then, eventually, he slinks into my room, like,Okay, now you.
But tonight, I’m not in my bedroom, and Ian and Bella are at my parents’ house. My mom and dad take them for Friday sleepovers every few months to “give me a break,” which is nice of them, I guess. I never know what to do with myself when they’re gone, though, which is why Harry Styles and I are on the couch flipping through TV channels.
“T-G-I-F,” I tell him, “right?”
Sports is on. I stop at some ’90s sitcoms and a Hallmark thing. Then I stumble ontoEdward Scissorhandsand sit up. I haven’t seen it in years, but I think it’s just starting. Johnny Depp is in a castle, and he looks so young.
IsEdward Scissorhandsa holiday movie? I vaguely remember a Christmas scene—snow, maybe? The raven Henry gave me issitting next to the TV in a spare change dish because I forgot to take it to Edgar Allan’s. From here it looks like it’s watching the movie, too.
Well, whatever. If Bruce Willis can shoot a bunch of people in a holiday movie, surely Johnny Depp can have scissors for hands.
I’m walking back to my apartment from 7-Eleven, because now, apparently, I’m hooked on M&M’s. Two Salvation Army Santas work separate corners, their bells competing. All the bars and restaurants are packed, and everyone looks so happy. I nod at animatronic Santa as I pass.
When I open the door to my building I get blasted with Bruce Springsteen singing “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” Gilberto is working the desk.
“Hola, Henry!”
“Hola, Gilberto.”
I get the elevator to myself, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath and try to imagine Brynn riding up with me. When I open my eyes again, it’s still just me.
Ding.
I flip the TV on when I get inside, toggle to Hulu, thenLive,thenMovies,then stumble uponEdward Scissorhands. It’s the scene at the beginning where Dianne Wiest goes to Edward’s castle to try to sell him Avon.
I wonder if Grace has seen this. I assume she has, because everyone our age has. There’s no sister-swapping as far as I can remember.
As I reach for my iPhone, it buzzes with a text. Grace must be voice texting again because there’s a novella’s worth of words on my screen.Are you still up?are the ones that catch my eye first, and I laugh and text her back.
I was just thinking about you. Isn’t it a little early for a booty text?
I look at the screen, waiting for Grace to write back before I realize that it wasn’t Grace who texted me. The message came from someone I don’t have in my contacts.
I’m sorry?
This text arrives as I’m reading the first one.
Hi, Henry. Are you still up? This is Meredith. We met the other day at my shop. Your brother gave me your number. I know this is short notice and probably so random, but any chance you want to come out for a drink with my co-workers and me tonight?
“Oh shit,” I say.
Then my phone rings, startling me so much that I drop it. This time itisGrace.
My heart keeps racing, which is annoying, like I’ve de-aged. You think about making out with a guy once or twice and suddenly you’re a thirty-nine-year-old fourteen-year-old calling a boy for the first time. Also, what am I, a psychopath? Nobody calls anybody unannounced anymore.
After four rings, I decide that’s plenty. I’ll just hang up and go back to chilling with my dog and maybe have a chat with my dead husband like a normal per—
“Um, hello?”
I freeze and yellgoddammitin my head. “Henry?”
“Grace?”
“Did I reach you on your rotary phone? Yeah, it’s Grace. Don’t you have caller ID?”
