Alexis crept into the room- her brother apparently having given up trying to keep her out- frowning at the way David was slumped in his bed. She knew that he was awake.
"Don't, Alexis", he snapped, as he reached for the laptop.
She glared at him, sitting down on her bed. She silently tapped away at the keys, David glaring at her the whole time through red rimmed eyes. Wordlessly, she sat the laptop on his cedar chest, before curling up beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest.
"All right, ladies and gents! Comical poems suitable for the occasion, extemporized and thought up before your very eyes. All right, here we go".
"You remember", he mumbled.
Mary Poppins had been his favourite film, for years. They owned and he had worn out several copies of the VHS tape (one of the perks of their family owning the second largest video store chain in North America was their unlimited access to films), and whenever it was his choice to pick the movie, it had been Mary Poppins.
(She used to pretend she hated it, but Julie Andrews was everything that both of them had wanted in a nana.)
Tears ran down his face and she wriggled slightly closer, the ways she'd done when they were little and there was a thunderstorm.
"Room here for everyone gather around. The constable's 'responstable'. Now, how does that sound? Hello, Miss Lark I got one for you. Miss Lark likes to walk in the park with Andrew".
"I feel like today's my fault", she mumbled, and his look softened.
"It is your fault", he agreed, and she frowned. "But its also Patrick's".
"Its gonna be okay, David". She put her head on his shoulder, snuggling into his sweater, and he rested his head on hers.