Page 51 of Cut Off
We eat. Eli eats two whole pieces of cornbread, which Claire notices without comment, but I see the way her eyes light up. Tom tells a story about Jonah at twelve years old getting his stick stuck in the rafters of the garage, and Eli almost laughs, the second almost-laugh of the day.
Jonah catches my eye across the table with a look that says it counted. I give him the smallest nod, and he sits up about an inch taller.
Then Tom says, “What about the hot tub, Eli? We could all squeeze in.”
Eli goes white.
It’s not a flinch. It’s a full-body system shutdown. His fork freezes halfway to his mouth. The blood drains out of his cheeks in a way I’ve only ever seen on people about to faint.
“Or the pool.” Claire reaches for the pitcher. “Although it’s still a little too cold for the pool.”
“That’s okay, he’s not really a pool guy yet,” I cut in, smooth as I can make it. “Right, Eli? We’ve been doing land sports.”
Eli nods so hard his hair flops.
Jonah catches it. I see the question lift in his face, and he looks at me with his eyebrows up, and I give the smallest shake of my head—I don’t know the reason, but I’m sure it’s a good one. Eli always has reasons when he’s skittish.
“Game room?” I chirp. “After cake? Tom, did you know Jonah has every video game system invented by humans? It’s offensive.”
“It’s not offensive.”
Tom pushes his chair back. “I’ll destroy them all. Show me the controller. I have hands like a surgeon.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t let you operate on me.” Claire’s eyes go huge. “He can’t text without hitting the wrong letters.”
“My thumbs are large.”
“Your thumbs are sausages.”
Eli shoots me a quick glance, but his color is coming back. I bump his shoulder with my elbow.
“Go take them down,” I whisper.
He nods.
Watching Tom Holt play Mario Kart is a religious experience.
He drives like a man who’s never seen a road in his life. He goes the wrong way on Rainbow Road. He launches himself off the side of the track with such consistency that Eli starts giggling by the third lap. Claire is somehow worse. She holds the controller upside down for the first ninety seconds and refuses to be corrected because, and I quote, “this is how it feels right.” Her character drives directly into a wall and stays there for the duration of the race.
Eli laps them both. Twice.
“He’s a prodigy,” Claire says, dignified, while her car continues to ram the same wall.
Eli ducks his head, smiling at the screen. Smiling. With teeth. I have not seen this child smile with teeth.
I lean against the doorframe and let my chest do its thing. Right now, there’s nothing better than watching Claire Holt grinning at her grandson while her cartoon car continues to drive into a wall.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. It’s my sister, Maddie.
Maddie:call me
Maddie:zo
Maddie:ZOE
Maddie:i think hunter is going to dump me tonight
Maddie:at dinner
