“We speak on occasion, although it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Her projects often take her to other parts of the world.”
“So...” I slid off the bed and jammed my phone into my pocket. Over the past few months, my brain had gotten good at not processing facts it couldn’t handle. Grant-the-genie was one such fact. Ergo, not analyzing it, but shamelessly willing to enjoy its benefits. I gestured between the two of us. “How does this work?”
“You make the wish, I fulfill it, and we start anew the next day.”
“Where do you stay?”
“Generally, I stay in my mistress’s home, in a residence of her choice. At Lacey’s, I slept in a music box. At Kimberley’s, an antique pocket watch.”
“You can shrink to something that small?”
“I adjust to the circumstances in which I find myself.”
Of course he did.
Okay, a life-size residence didn’t matter. What else did we need to consider? “Would you prefer to be inside or out?”
“No one has ever suggested that I stay outside. I find the idea intriguing.”
“There’s a lantern on the patio. Could you be comfortable there?”
“Yes, thank you.” He inclined his head. “Will you make a wish today?”
“My brother’s room needs to be packed up.”
“In preparation for the move?”
“You know about that?”
“We try to stay informed.”
Useful. “I don’t know where to get started.”
“How much would you like for me to manage?”
It was tempting to let him handle everything. I could stay in my bedroom with the door closed. Across the hall, my brother’s room would be sorted, boxed, labeled, and emptied—the project completed perfectly without me, because Grant seemed like that kind of guy. Wish accomplished and pain avoided.
Except it wouldn’t be. Instead, it would feel like I’d failed my brother all over again. “I want to be in charge of this project, with you as my assistant.”
“That is acceptable. Let us commence.” He preceded me across the hall, barging straight into my brother’s bedroom. I held onto the door frame and watched from a safe distance.
Without a second’s hesitation, Grant assessed the workload, glancing in the closet, pulling out desk drawers, and scanning the bookshelves. He spun to face me. “I recommend that we focus on a different area of the room each day and jointly sort items into categories. I would recommend Throwaway, Giveaway, and Keep. After we’ve completed each task, we’ll verify what the other has done and resolve any differences.”
“Sounds like a good system.” It was such a relief to have him here.
“Once we’ve filled a container, where shall I store it until we’re ready to distribute the contents?”
“We have a four-car garage.” I paused. Took a calming breath. “One of the stalls is empty. You can put things there.”
“Excellent. We can begin today’s wish, although it should be a bit more descriptive thanpack up.”
Decision time, and it was overwhelming. What should we handle first? Something easy. And visible. I’d want a reminder when I walked in each day that the project was underway. “I wish to dismantle the bed.”
“Would you care to come in and join me?”
Reluctantly, I released my grip on the door frame and took a couple of steps into the room. “We should strip it and give everything away.”
“I’ll give away what is salvageable. Some parts should be discarded.”
