“Will you brush my hair and do that pretty side braid that makes me look like an evil fairy queen?” I managed to sound very cool girl, verywho cares about a boy?
She nodded and set me down in the chair in front of my window that looked out over the courtyard and the greenhouse. While she did my hair, I closed my eyes and told her everything I could fit into fifteen minutes. We briefly talked about the anniversary of my parents’ death coming up. She explained that everyone was already coming into town for the engagement party, but that Kallum and Nolan were concerned when they didn’t hear back from Isaac on Brooklyn’s death anniversary day and something about the cat ladies tracking them down on social media and then one of them even requesting a video from Kallum on Cameo to get his attention.
And I was just relieved. So relieved that they would be there for Isaac, because I just couldn’t anymore. Not when he wouldn’t let me. And as for me? I had Bee, my precious Bee.
“You’re growing a human in your body,” I said for the third time to Charlie’s wife, Jenna, as the waiter cleared our dessertplates. We’d each had a slice of yule log sprinkled with crushed candy canes.
“It’s not a human, Auntie Sunny,” Gretta corrected me as she traced the outline of the pink peony on my forearm with a purple marker she kept in her little purse along with a Hot Wheel and two mints she’d stolen from the hostess desk. “It’sLogan.”
“You’ve got the right mindset,” I told her. “Brothers most definitely aren’t human.”
That got a chuckle out of Charlie, who was unusually relaxed as he leaned back in his chair with an arm slung behind Jenna. Gretta sat at the head of the table like the matriarch she was meant to be and Ruth sat next to me, already on her third gin and tonic.
Outside, the snow was coming down in heavy white fluffs. I hadn’t spent this day with family in a long time, and it actually felt nice to be out of LA too. When I was home, I always found myself driving past the intersection where our parents’ accident happened, and I always regretted it. Remembering their death instead of them. Looking at Gretta and the way she attacked her food with utensils, like it was something to be murdered, made me so sad that our parents would never know her.
Jenna smiled and, in her soft, barely there British accent, long faded from nearly an entire lifetime in America, said, “I’m so glad Charlie convinced you to come.”
“It definitely was not me,” he told her. “It was all Ruth.”
“Is it warm in here?” Ruth asked, holding a hand to her gin-flushed cheek. “I heard the front desk say there’s a Christmas pageant tonight at a place called the North Pole. Doesn’t that sound nice, Gretta?”
“I don’t think that’s the kind of Christmas pageant you have in mind,” I told her. “But if you do go, bring singles.”Strip club, I mouthed to Jenna and Charlie.
Jenna laughed silently and Charlie shook his head.
“I always carry extra singles,” Ruth said with a yawn. “You never know when you’ll stumble across a vending machine or one of those children doing a chocolate bar fundraiser.”
“Gretta, baby,” Jenna said. “I think it’s nap time.”
Gretta frowned and shook her head, her light brown knot of curls bouncing. “I don’t believe in naps.”
“This morning it was hairbrushes,” Ruth told me. “Now it’s naps.”
“Not believing in something doesn’t stop it from being real,” Jenna told Gretta.
My niece’s lips pursed, like she was trying to somehow math her way out of her mother’s logic.
Ruth stood up. “Nap time for me too. Come on, Gretta. If we don’t take our naps, we can’t have our postnap hot chocolates.”
With that, Gretta slid out of her booster seat and tugged on Jenna’s arm. “I believe in nap time again!”
Charlie kissed Jenna’s temple and Ruth gave me a hug. “Love you big, my sweet Sunny. We’ll see you again on Christmas, won’t we?” she whispered.
“That depends,” I said. “Is nap time a ploy to trap me with Charlie?”
“Ask me when I haven’t had three gin and tonics for lunch.”
Gretta threw her arms around my waist, and before I could even say goodbye, she was running toward the lobby.
The waitress, the same one from the night I was here with Isaac and the librarians, swung by our table to see if we needed anything else. As she left, Charlie took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled for a minute before handing it to me.
On the screen were the two magnolia trees from the backyard. Gretta stood between the two for scale, and the branches towered over her, the ivory flowers fully in bloom. Her arms were stretched out, trying to touch both at the same time.She wasn’t looking at the camera and instead was laughing at something in the distance.
“They’re so big,” I said. “At least compared to Gretta.”
“You should visit sometime soon. The magnolias,” he clarified. “And us too if you want.”
“Yeah, maybe when I’m back in LA.” We both sat there in silence for a few moments.
