“That he’ll be away at the beginning of the hardest, craziest project I’ve ever tried. But maybe this is exactly the way it should work.”
“Let me know if I can help.”
He grinned as he backed up a couple of steps. “I might take you up on that offer. See you ‘round.”
Status Report #15
Saturday’s Wish: Staging a cook out
Dear Boss,
Sara’s get-together was a pleasant, relaxed success. I’m glad she chose to host it and that her parents participated too.
No one mentioned Sean. I find this rather curious. Did they believe it would be more than the Tuckers could bear? I can’t see how acting as if he had never lived could be better. Perhaps I shall mention this to Lacey or Kimberley next time we have the chance to speak.
We shall likely finish Sean’s room tomorrow. He has left a gift of sorts for his sister. “Unwrapping” it will be a bittersweet moment for her.
I feel the need to ask for reassurance. Do I make a difference? Sara’s expressions can be so bland. Her eyes well with tears, yet crying is rare. While she is quick to articulate what she wants me to know, I believe she masks her deepest pains.
There must be more that I could be doing, yet I cannot tell what it would be.
Regards,
Grant
19
Tether to Goodness
I couldn’t put it off any longer. The final wish was cleaning out Sean’s desk, and we would complete it today.
Grant stood before the desk, hands on hips. “For this task, two categories will be sufficient. Keep and Throwaway.”
“I’ve already taken a glance through the drawers. I doubt we have much of a Keep pile.”
“There will be items you won’t wish to lose.”
“Fine. You empty the desk. I’ll manage the piles.” I knelt on the carpet, in the spot that used to hold the bed, and sorted whatever Grant handed to me. I tossed the random stuff. Broken pencils. Single staples. Rubber bands. Wrappers from protein bars.
Predictably, Grant was right about the Keep pile. I found myself oddly reluctant to part with anything Sean’s hands had touched. It took discipline to throw away the third and fifth and sixtieth examples of calculus homework. All had 100 at the top. I promised myself to keep only a few of the sheets, the ones with something snarky that he’d written.
It grew easier as the morning wore on.
“I’m on the last drawer, Sara.” The inflection in Grant’s voice was strange.
“What have you found?”
Silently, he held out a fat white box. I took it and frowned. It had my name scrawled over it in my brother’s scratchy handwriting.
My breaths came out in noisy puffs. I didn’t want to know what was inside, but I couldn’tnotknow either.
I opened the lid.
The box was filled with letters, scraps of torn paper, sticky notes, and Hallmark cards. They all seemed to be from me.
Why had Sean done this?
I flipped through a few scraps before tossing the box onto the carpet with shaking hands. Maybe the message was simply that he’d loved the notes I’d sent. That was sweet and painful and hard to take in. “You can recycle this, Grant.” I took a step toward the door and nearly bumped into a solid wall of muscle. Startled, I looked up into his gaze.
