I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Or I will be, as soon as we hear back about Mom’s latest MRI.”
My feeling of absolute certainty about the coming MRI results, I don’t say aloud. My brother is already too spooked by all the changes in our lives.
He stands, and this time, I don’t have a problem hugging him.
“FaceTime me, will you? When you get the results?”
I nod and promise to do that.
And then, like the wind that brought him to me a few short weeks ago, my brother is gone again, headed back to LA.
I watch the rental car’s taillights wind down the long driveway and through the woods, until I can no longer see them.
I set the mug of goat’s milk on the side table on Grak’s side of the bed. Though in reality, he’s so huge that he takes up all of the bed.
I crawl on top of him and pull up the blanket. It radiates with heat as I cover myself with it. Starting to wake, Grak grunts and pulls me tighter against him, his arms hugging me outside of the blanket.
“My brother just left for the airport.”
“Hm.”
“He says you’d better treat me right or he’ll beat you up.”
Grak stiffens for a moment and says, “I would never lift a hand against family. But he would lose that fight.”
I let out a little snort.
His vast body goes soft again, and he exhales sleepily. “This is one of your jokes. He did not say that.”
“He did not.”
“You pull my arm.”
“Leg.”
“Leg,” he says through a yawn.
“I have your goat’s milk.”
Grak hums and smashes his soft lips against my forehead. “Thank you.”
He sits up, and I try to crawl away to give him space, but Grak does not want that. Instead, he keeps me planted right on his lap as he drinks his milk, with me wrapped in the blanket.
“And your sister?”
“She leaves later today.”
“And have you had a productive conversation with May yet?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not at all, then. You should resolve things. Don’t let her leave without letting her know you love her.”
May and I have never been the hold-hands-and-sing-kum-ba-yah type of sisters. So I have to think about how I want to do that.
Later that day, when my sister and her family are getting ready to leave, Grak carries all their luggage to their SUV, not letting anyone else lift a finger.
“You need some help with that?” I say.
