Room for Two

Every night, Deb sits on the couch, puts on a movie and calls: "Come here, Lolo!" And Ice jumps onto her lap, the coziest place in the world.

But before Ice arrived, that lap belonged to Gattuso. And Gattuso, even as a little ghost, remembers that very well.

That night, Ice saw Gattuso in the corner of the bookshelf with that grumpy, jealous face. But Ice knew that face well: underneath the jealousy, Gattuso was sad.

Ice could just stay on the lap. Nobody could see Gattuso anyway. But Ice could. And when you see someone who is sad, you can't pretend you didn't.

He hopped off the couch, went over to the shelf and whispered: "Gattuso, there's room for two."

Gattuso made a face like he didn't want to. Then a face like he wanted to, just a little. Then he floated over very slowly and snuggled up next to Ice, on Deb's lap.

Deb felt a cool little breeze and pulled up the blanket. "What a nice little chill," she said, without knowing a thing.

Even Jubs came down from the chandelier and settled at the end of the couch, pretending she was just passing by. And that night, Deb's lap, which seemed so small, had room for everyone.