Like To Be You ✓

twenty six pt. three

It's Thursday, the day of Thanksgiving, and I'm quite literally stuffed with the feast we just shared. We're all in the living room, talking and exchanging stories, something I do not particularly enjoy because there are only three genres: the ones where the build-up leads to nothing, the ones which are boring as hell, and the ones which end up with at least two people being embarrassed.

Because I do not want to partake in that activity, I join Grandpa by the fireplace, where he is reading a book, puffing on his cigar. A small pile of books is set on the coffee table beside him, and I blindly swipe one off.

It's a thick book, with Jeffrey Archer's name written in bold. When I look up again, there's a look on Grandpa's face, one that tells me something is very, very wrong.

He can't breathe.

I want to shout and alert everyone, but then everything is moving in slow-motion. I'm raising my hand, struggling through the dense air, when everybody is already rushing over to him. I think my mom yells at me to get the car started, and I'm so, so clumsy, fumbling with the keys until Uncle Leonard snatches them from my hands and runs out.

They carry a sleeping Grandpa into the car and leave.

x

None of my tiny demon cousins are cooperating with me. It's only us six cousins in the house, and I'm left looking after them.

Don't get me wrong; I love spending time with Harry and Kiara, but the little ones? They could annoy a person to death.

"Where did they take Grandpa?"

"Is there any more turkey left?"

"Josh, give me my Bratz back!"

"Is he in the hospital? Did he die?"

"I want some turkey. And mashed potatoes. And mac and cheese too!"

"What did you do to Sasha?!"

"Mommy said that Grandpa smokes, which is bad. Is that why he died?"

"Oh no the turkey's cold."

"Sasha, you have such pretty hair! I want hair like yours."

"Josh!" Kiara grabs hold of him. He freezes with the plate of turkey in his hand. "Just put it in the microwave." She moves to Hazel and wipes the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Grandpa isn't dead! He was just feeling a bit ill. And you, Miss Shirley, please shut up about Sasha. She's made of plastic, she can't speak."

"Kiara, I love you." I say.

Harry gives a noise of affirmation. "I second that. Also, can we lock them in a room upstairs? Nobody will know about it."

"I wish." I pull out the leftover feast from the fridge and begin warming it all up. It's close to dinnertime, but none of the parents are still here. Mom called up and said that Aunt Kate and Uncle Leonard would be staying the night at the hospital, and the rest will be returning later.

Grandpa had a cardiac arrest, the doctors said, and they reached on time. He's stable now, but sleeping.

When Grandma and Mom, along with Uncle Jack and Aunt Sarah, come home, Grandma is dabbing at her eyes. She kisses my head and mumbles a 'goodnight', and I walk her to her room, watching her fuss around before tucking herself under the blanket.

"Goodnight, Gramma," I say, burying my face in the soft cloth of her nightie before kissing her cheek.

When I reach my room, Gregory is chilling on the bed, licking on his paw. Beside him, a book of mine lays shredded.