Page 32 of Out Of A Fix

“Tatum, throw it away before I ground you!”

She didn’t believe me, and Griff enjoyed seeing me give her an order and then run. Hard to sound authoritarian or serious in the middle of scampering away.

It took hours to right the kitchen, even without the cheese fiasco. We all took turns except Griff, who needed to take it easy. He stayed with us, though, rather than being alone upstairs, lying on the couch while we went through everything. There were so many jars and cans and plastic containers that when we were done, I had Darwin get a laundry basket so we didn’t have to make as many trips out to the recycling bin. Thankfully, they came on Monday, as we had no more room.

Next, we put the things no one wanted onto the empty shelves above the phone ledge. There had to be a donation center in town, and what they didn’t need could go to the neighborhood yard sale. By the time I was making spaghetti, having told everyone that they would need to start helping me the following day, I was liking how the living room was shaping up. There were awards on the shelves now, both sports and academic, artwork, some lovely crystal towers that had probably belonged to their mother, lanterns, a weird green elephant, a raku pitcher, what looked like a prehistoric-horse sculpture, and some Day of the Dead ceramic animals. I liked the rabbit best of all.

Griff came through the kitchen with an enormous wreath in his arms, with Darwin following him with another of a similar size. They were both done in festive fall colors, each beautiful, but I preferred the wine reds of the one they hung on the inside of the front door compared to the more orangey one that went outside.

All kinds of things came out of storage. They had watched their mother decorate for years, so they all knew where everything went. When Griff brought Tatum an enormous Rubbermaid box and asked her to do the kitchen, she cried and hurled herself into his arms. He hugged her back and whispered into her hair that they would never miss another holiday. She nodded a lot, and because I’d bought a box of tissues for the kitchen, I had her blow her nose until the tank was empty. I got a hug after that.

They simply needed permission, and bam, instant warmth, instant decorations, instant stark, sterile home gone, cozy happiness unlocked. I was in awe. All that restraint because they’d been worried about each other and their father.

“You have to talk to each other all the time,” I stressed once we were all sitting at the dinner table.

No one said a word.

“People,” I grumbled.

“Sorry,” Darwin said breathlessly. “I will. Talk, I mean. I won’t not say what I want anymore. I promise.”

“Good,” I said, taking a sip of my water and then glancing at Griff and Tatum, and then back to Darwin, noticing he was staring at me again. “What’s going on?”

Griff cleared his throat. “We haven’t been at the table at the same time since before Mom left.”

“Oh. Okay.” I looked at each one. “Is it all right?”

“Yes,” Tatum said, voice soft and thready. “I like the music too.”

I was old-school, so my iPod got hooked up. I had no idea how to stream anything, but it worked well with the pricey audio equipment in the living room.

“I don’t hate this,” Darwin assured me, “but I haven’t made my mind up completely.”

“I’m sure John Coltrane appreciates that,” I told him.

I passed the pasta bowl around, the sauce, and then made everyone take a serving of salad. I was surprised they did it without complaint. Apparently, Caesar was all right. There was crusty garlic bread too that they all liked. I was pleased they were all eating so well.

“Nash?” Griff said.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Are you not drinking wine because you think I’m an alcoholic?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly, because that was the only way it could be between us.

He nodded. “I’m not, though. I promise I can stop. I’ve never drunk any of Dad’s bourbon or Mom’s wine because both of those are disgusting.”

“Well, tomorrow while you’re cleaning your room, I will be getting rid of all the wine. And so you know, while you were crashed on the couch, I went through your room.”

“Okay.”

“And after checking the toilet⁠—”

“That’s dis⁠—”

“The back, dummy, not the bowl.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised.