Brandy, though still quietly listening, might have felt a tad disappointed. She asked what happened to Kali, but I was spouting off about JT, Michael, and Jenny. I hope she remembered that, when I told the story four years earlier, the backstory was pretty important. Today, I just wanted the moment Kali re-entered the story to make sense.
And she had a lot on her mind. All the same, Brandy sipped on her bottomless cup of hot chocolate, provided by my grandson James, and humoring an old man telling a story. James had brought hot chocolate for everyone hanging around to hear my tale. The snow still fell, which was odd, but, as when I told the story of the mahogany door, strange things would happen.
I worried about Brandy. I hoped the story pleased her; I couldn't tell.