Page 23 of Wish You Were Here


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My eyelids slid half-open. “I don’t recall making that decision.”

“That would be because I did.” He held out his hand.

“Oh, well, in that case…” Grant didn’t want to be alone. That was kind of sweet. I let him help me from the stool. “Do you think I should change? I’m a mess.”

“We’ll be outside on a hot, humid day. No need to change. You will worsen.”

I sighed. Loudly. “Okay, let’s go.”

We walked two miles to the park and then another mile on the jogging track. Bought lunch from a food truck. Chatted with a couple I’d known in high school.

Mid-afternoon, we were home again.

Grant stood awkwardly in the mud room, blocking my way into the kitchen. “Will you bathe?”

“Is that a hint?”

“Merely a question.”

“Yes. I’ll shower, then naptime.”

“Might I ask a favor?” At my nod, he rocked nervously on his feet. “Would you be willing to watch a movie with me?”

Oh, wow. How dense could I be?

Grant didn’t wantmeto be alone.

Tears pricked my eyes. I closed the distance between us and melted into him, cradled by his steady hands, his compassion raining softly on my soul.

“After my shower, I’ll watch a movie with you,” I whispered, “but only if I get to pick.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I consent to your terms.”

We watched a cheesy romantic comedy, which—from the look of scrunched concentration on his face—left him baffled.

As the film credits rolled, he asked, “Shall we play cards? Or go for a swim?”

“You don’t have to babysit me.”

“Perhaps I am the one who needs tending.”

“Uh-huh.” This was so transparent, and I loved it. Whatever magic he was working on me, he could just keep it coming, because I felt lighter than I had in a long time. “Let me change into my bathing suit, and we’ll meet on the veranda. It’s only a couple of blocks to the neighborhood pool.”

The evening passed quickly after that. By bedtime, I’d hardly had a moment to fret over today’s wish.

Mom and Dad returned late from the beach house. I was already in my room. Rather than talking to them, I flicked off my bedside lamp, but that proved an unnecessary precaution. They didn’t come upstairs to check on me, although my dad texted.

We had a nice weekend. How about you?

Mine was good too

Ok. See you tomorrow

Bye

Since my body was physically exhausted, I assumed I could fall asleep without drugging myself. Bad assumption. Around midnight, panic had me shaking. By throwing out my brother’s clothes, had I thrown out any memories of him? I raced down the stairs and out to the garage.

The bed frame was still in the empty stall, a tumble of boards. The same three overstuffed trash bags squatted nearby. But the items we’d sorted today? Gone.