Page 53 of What We Don't Say: Part One

Callie clears her throat. “Something calm?”

“No documentaries about maritime disasters,” Idris says.

“That was one time,” Garrett replies.

“You called it soothing,” Callie says, her voice coming back in pieces.

“It had narration.”

“It had shipwrecks,” I say.

Theo looks between us, and the faint smile returns.

We move to the living room because the couch is bigger and the television doesn't require Garrett to explain why his laptop needs three adapters and a formal invitation from the gods. The shift should be simple. It is only one room over, only a movie, only a few blankets and mugs and the low domestic shuffle of people who are trying to make the night small again.

Theo stalls in the doorway.

I see the problem at once.

Too many places.

Too many choices slow him at the threshold. Theo stands there with his hands tucked into the sleeves of Callie’s sweater, eyes moving from one place to another until the choosing itself becomes too heavy.

Callie starts to stand.

Garrett lifts his hand first, palm open from the far end of the sectional. “Theo.”

Theo’s eyes snap to him.

Garrett’s voice stays low. “You can sit here until you decide if you want somewhere else.”

The room waits.

Theo looks at Callie.

She gives him a tiny nod. “I’ll be right there.”

That is what does it. Theo crosses the room and climbs into Garrett’s lap.

Garrett adjusts immediately, one arm going around Theo’s back, the other drawing the blanket over his knees. There is nothing hesitant about it and nothing strange. Theo tucks sideways against him, cheek near Garrett’s shoulder, his body still trembling from the earlier yellow but no longer lost inside it.

Callie sits beside them.

Not on Garrett. Not tucked into him like she would be with me or Idris. She sits close enough that Theo can reach her, her hip against the cushion near Garrett’s thigh, her hand resting palm-up on the blanket between them.

Theo finds her fingers within seconds.

Garrett looks down at their joined hands, then settles the edge of the blanket over both of them.

The sight knocks something loose in my chest. Theo settles against Garrett with Callie’s hand tucked beneath his cheek, while Idris places a glass of water near the blanket and I move closer on Callie’s other side.

Callie’s shoulder stays warm against mine. Theo keeps holding her hand. I slide closer and drape my arm along the back of the couch behind her. “You good, baby?”

Callie looks at Theo in Garrett’s lap, then at me. Her eyes are still too bright, but her smile reaches me. “Yeah.”

Theo taps her hand once.

Green.