Raising the Dead

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Raising the Dead Page 19

by D. B. Sieders

“Is it enough to go and get some help?”

  Boyd scowled, “Oh, so that’s why she’s bringing up the therapist again, huh?”

  Time for some tough love, big boy.

  “Yeah,” Vivian said, scowling. “She figures since she’s throwing stuff and you’re running away, what y’all are doing ain’t working out so hot. Am I right?”

  “How’s some damned shrink who’s just going to take her side anyway supposed to help? All Kay does is bitch and moan and when I try to give her some pointers she just gets pissed off at me. I can’t fix her.”

  “No, you can’t,” Vivian agreed.

  “No, I can’t—wait, what did you say?”

  “I said no, you can’t fix her. What’s more, you shouldn’t try.” Vivian waited for it to sink in. He clearly hadn’t expected it. Of course, he wouldn’t like the rest, but maybe it would help in the long run.

  “You’re agreeing with me?” Boyd said with incredulity.

  “Look, Boyd,” Vivian said, putting a hand on his. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. You don’t have to offer advice, you don’t have to ‘give pointers,’ or do any other such nonsense that tells her you think you know better than her. All you have to do is listen.”

  “Listen? You mean just sit there and not say anything while she goes off like she does every other week. How in the Sam Hill is that going to change things?”

  Men. They really didn’t get it. Then again, Kay probably hadn’t told him what she needed either. Hard to do in the middle of a fight, as Vivian knew all too well from personal experience.

  “Well, for starters, she probably won’t yell at you anymore. I get that you think you’re helping by making suggestions, but you’re not. All you’re telling her is that she’s not good enough and she’s not capable. Worse yet, you’re telling her that the man of the house knows best— ”

  “I said no such thing,” Boyd snapped.

  “That’s what she’s hearing,” Vivian snapped back. “And what’s this about telling Kay you thought she’d be stronger?”

  “See,” Boyd said, standing and getting ready to storm off. “I knew you’d take her side.”

  “Boyd Clemmens, you turn around and sit your ass back down right this minute,” Vivian said as she jumped off her seat. Her tone must have gotten his attention, since he turned. He didn’t sit. Stubborn jackass.

  “I mean it. After I came to the rescue of your family, that’s the least you can do. You owe me that much.”

  That did it. He still looked as mad as a mule chewing on bumblebees, but he sat. Vivian drew in a deep breath and sat back down, too.

  “Now, listen up. You and Kay need to get your shit together or else you aren’t going to be any good to anyone, not to each other and not to those three kids caught in the crossfire. What you’re doing isn’t working. You want your wife back and happy more often than not, then go and get some help.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Boyd said, grudgingly. It was probably the best she’d get out of him.

  “Don’t think too long, or else you’re going to be thinking somewhere with half your stuff,” Vivian said.

  With that, she stood, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek. She took in his burdens on the sly while she was at it, then grabbed her purse and headed for the parking lot, hoping he would think about it.

  As she walked away, she looked back over her shoulder, crinkled her nose, and said, “And take a shower. You stink to high heaven!”

  ***

  “So, you gonna tell us who this mystery man is?” Sue asked.

  “Nope,” Vivian said between sips of her blueberry margarita. “You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Not if you keep downing the booze we won’t,” Kay chuckled. Vivian, Sue, and Kay had all headed out for their own low-key bachelorette dinner at Taco Mamacita. The late afternoon was cooler, so they’d taken advantage and walked. Even though it was her big night, Sue’s delicate condition made alcohol a no-no, so she graciously agreed to be the designated driver. She seemed to enjoy her virgin ’rita almost as much as she was enjoying the chips.

  “Watch the salt,” Kay offered. “It will just make the foot swelling worse. And you don’t want high blood pressure right now.”

  “Fine,” Sue said, deflating. “Can I at least have some cheesecake?”

  “Of course, hon. My treat,” Vivian said.

  “Seriously, though, where’d you find a guy on such short notice? You didn’t…I mean, he’s not a, a man whore is he?” Sue whispered the last, making Kay and Vivian giggle.

  “No, I’m not that hard up,” Vivian replied.

  “Did you find him online?” Kay asked.

  “No, and he’s just a friend,” she said. God, she needed to change the subject before they asked too many questions. It was risky enough bringing the reaper in public, let alone under the scrutiny of her friends. Then inspiration struck. Leaning back, she said, “But I do have a chat buddy in Mississippi. He’s a fireman.”

  “Vivian!” Sue cried, jumping up and giving her a big hug. “You’re back.”

  “Overkill, and not so fast.” Vivian gasped, which made Sue loosen the death grip on her neck. “I haven’t met the guy or even seen a picture. We’ve just got a few things in common.”

  “Oh?” Kay replied. She raised her eyebrows and Vivian gave her a small nod. Kay added, “Well, I think it would be very nice to get to know someone who understands you.”

  Wouldn’t it just.

  “Promise you’ll be careful, okay? You never know about folks on the net these days. He might be a psycho killer or some sick pervert. Just make sure you meet someplace public,” Sue warned.

  “He lives in Mississippi, for Pete’s sake. It’s not like I can just run out and go meet him for coffee.”

  “But definitely keep chatting and see where it goes. If nothing else, you’ll get a good friend out of the deal,” Kay said. “Now let’s see about ordering some real food and getting you ladies home for the night. I don’t want to watch two zombies tottering down the aisle tomorrow.”

  ***

  Vivian couldn’t sleep right away after Kay dropped her off, so she retreated outdoors. Her backyard had always been her sanctuary. It was even better this evening since she had the place to herself. Perhaps Jeanne had had the good grace to tell the other spirits to clear out. Or maybe she’d been afraid of another epic meltdown.

  Still, she was grateful. Vivian had almost forgotten how glorious solitude felt, and she reminded herself to thank Jeanne the next time they spoke. She should thank Jeanne for telling her about Mr. Briggs, too. Maybe apologize for their argument while she was at it?

  Nah. Vivian had to admit that while standing up to a full-fledged and powerful guardian of the spirit realm might be foolhardy, it had felt pretty damned good.

  She breathed in the scents of honeysuckle and freshly mown grass, and she took in the eerie beauty of the moonlit night and of dark clouds rolling across the night sky as she watched them moving through tall tree branches. It soothed her and gave her a chance to think over the events of the day and night. She’d enjoyed the meal and the company of her two best girlfriends, which both pleased and surprised her. She’d been worried about this night since it was Sue’s last hurrah as a single gal. It seemed like it ought to be a turning point of sorts, like their relationship would change somehow after tomorrow.

  The last thing she wanted was more change. Still, amid the laughter and love of the evening, she didn’t get the sense that a chapter was ending in her life, and for that she was grateful. The fear remained, but the longer she examined it, the more she became convinced that it had nothing to do with her friends on this side of life or maybe even the other side.

  That was a scary prospect.

  She slipped off her house shoes and walked down to the yard, reveling in the feel of the grass beneath her bare feet while admiring the shine of her polished toes. They caught the nascent light from the streetlamps. She didn�
��t see any fireflies, but decided she’d probably best get back inside before the mosquitoes ate her alive. She stopped on her stroll back to the stairs of her deck when her foot brushed something wet and living. Not being the squeamish sort, Vivian bent and allowed her finger to seek out the creature. She picked it up with gentle fingers and walked it up the stairs so she could get a better look at it.

  The light revealed it to be an insect, a pale green creature with red eyes and the uncertain movements of a newborn. It was rather large for an infant. She reckoned it to be about an inch in length. She regarded it as its sluggish legs examined the flesh of her palm beneath them. She got the sense that the nymph’s red eyes were taking her in as well. Smiling, she carried it back downstairs and allowed it to crawl from her hand onto the bark of one of her trees. It seemed more eager once in contact with this terrain, perhaps in response to some primal instinct akin to that which brought it from the depths of the earth below after many long years of waiting. It was the instinct that compelled it to rise and complete the metamorphosis so long in coming.

  A warm wind blew, setting her on edge. Change was coming. Would it be for good or ill? And would she be ready?

  CHAPTER 18

  Vivian got dressed and ready to go thirty minutes early, which left her plenty of time to wonder if asking Lazarus Darkmore to be her wedding date had been such a good idea.

  It also left her ample time to wonder what he would wear, if he would show up to get her in a car, if he had or even needed a car. How would he get a car anyway? And where and how he would get a car anyway and keep it? What kind of car he would drive? Could he even drive?

  This was such a bad idea.

  It was selfish, really, now that she had time to reflect. Her pride demanded that she one-up Jace since he’d be bringing Sheila. That, and fear of being seen as pathetic and lonely, kept her from going solo. Of course, she probably was pathetic if her only options for a date consisted of a pool of dead men, and the one whom she’d chosen was pretty much the embodiment of the grim reaper, albeit suave, handsome, and sometimes charming.

  She fidgeted, sat down, and tried to skim through an old issue of Time. The cover was framed in red and emblazoned with a good bit of red font in front of a tableau of black and white figures in free fall. It posed the question, “What if there’s no Hell?”

  Oh that’s just perfect…

  She put it down when she could no longer pretend to concentrate, and then ran back to her bathroom to check her hair, makeup, and to make sure her body shaper was keeping all of her flaws strategically hidden. Why was she doing this? She looked good enough, and anyway, it was Sue’s big day, not hers. It wasn’t even a real date.

  Vivian was making a mental note to remind Darkmore of that fact when the doorbell rang. She walked through the house and prepared to answer the door, wishing once more that she’d reminded him not to wear white.

  The sight that greeted her at the door left her utterly speechless, a fact not lost on her caller. Whether it amused him or pleased him was more difficult for Vivian to determine. At least his smile seemed genuine. He’d dressed in a black suit rather than a tuxedo. She hadn’t expected understated from such a being. It fit well, obviously tailored, and his tie was a brilliant shade of crimson. Of course. The only things brighter than the tie were his icy blue eyes. He’d left the Stetson at home, giving Vivian the chance to take in his white-blond hair, carefully combed away from his face. He’d toned it down a bit, blending gold and a few strands of honey blond in. She was glad that he didn’t look too otherworldly. Still, a man like Darkmore would garner attention anywhere.

  She was glad for that, too, and couldn’t stop the smile and giggle in reaction.

  “Good evening, Ms. Vivian,” he said, offering a bow. He kept a gentlemanly distance, though he still gave her the once-over with his gaze. All of her. “You look stunning.”

  “You look pretty good yourself,” she replied, “Oh, that reminds me, what are we going to call you tonight? Darkmore isn’t…well, it isn’t normal here, and we mortals tend to come with a first name.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She stood aside and gestured for him to come inside. “I don’t know. Do you have a first name, other than Lazarus? That’s a bit…old-fashioned, too.”

  “I’ve had several.”

  “Several?” Vivian asked, turning to face him.

  “Yes, several. I’ve lived many mortal lives.”

  Oh, now this was interesting!

  “Well, which name was your favorite?” she asked, curiosity eclipsing her lingering anxiety.

  He thought for a long moment and then said, “I was once known as Hesperus. It means evening star.”

  It fit. The man—no, the form he’d chosen—was breathtaking. Clearing her throat, she said, “Well, you don’t look Greek and that really isn’t a name you hear around these parts anyway. What else you got?”

  “Hmm, I went by Aisly when I lived as a maiden in Britannia.”

  “What? You were a woman?” She almost shouted in surprise.

  “Of course, Vivian. One cannot hope to understand the complexities of the human experience unless one has lived as both man and woman.”

  “I think I need to sit down for the rest of this conversation,” she said, indicating that he should sit across from her in one of her old, oversize armchairs. He’d given her a lot of food for thought in the past few moments. How fascinating it must have been to live so many lives. What he must have seen, done, and experienced through the years, centuries, eons?

  “Hey, how old are you anyway?”

  “In human years? I cannot say. I have been around for a very long time.”

  “Did you start out as human? Were you born a man? How did you become a reaper?” Vivian supposed she shouldn’t barrage him with so many questions, but she couldn’t help herself. She was sure she’d have interesting company tonight, if nothing else. Of course, she’d worked out by now that his personal research on the human experience was probably a means to improve his skills as a grisly reaper.

  He certainly knew his quarry well.

  “As to your last question, I think I’ll save the answer for another time, but yes, my origins were quite conventional. I was born the son of a slave in Mesopotamia a very long time ago and that is how I lived my first life.”

  If remembering his past affected him, Vivian couldn’t tell. She didn’t think it polite to ask directly, “Well, I guess that explains the name you use now. But you’re so…blond.” Foolish, but it was all she could think to say.

  “One so ancient as I can shed the attachment to early physical incarnations. I find this form appealing. Don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, you’re quite a looker,” she replied, trying not to blush. He smiled, so she guessed she hadn’t succeeded. “Anyway, back to your name. How about Robert? Robert Darkmore?”

  “Are you partial to that name, Vivian?” he asked, leaning back and giving her his best come-hither look.

  “Cut it out,” she said. “No, I’m not especially attached to the name, but it fits.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well,” she stammered. “I was thinking of Robert Redford.”

  He leaned forward and thought for a moment. She was afraid she’d offended him, or maybe he just didn’t know who Robert Redford was. Then again, he’d said he liked westerns. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ringing any bells?

  “Robert it is,” he said with a nod. “Do you have any other concerns about this evening?”

  “Yes. What if someone asks you how we met?”

  “I’ll just tell them it was through work,” he replied with a wicked grin.

  “Very funny,” she shot back. “But that’s actually not a bad cover. So you’ll just tell them that you work in finance, then. No, wait, I’ve got it! You can say you’re a repo man. That’s not far from the truth.”

  “Repo man?”

  “You know, repossession? That means you’re the guy who
gets stuff back when folks can’t make their payments, like cars or boats.”

  “Ah, I see. That fits indeed. Am I your lover, or merely an acquaintance?”

  Heat crept up her cheeks. “Let’s just keep that a mystery,” she replied with a smile.

  He rose and took her hand, bidding her to do the same. Vivian tensed. She was sure he was going to kiss her, just as she was sure that she would respond. One of his talents was seduction, and he often used that along with his beauty and charm to bend the will of the living and newly dead to darkness. While she was drawn to him, Vivian was still doggedly determined to hold onto her free will. Instead, he placed another hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door.

  “Oh, I should mention, I’ll be needing your services the day after tomorrow,” he said.

  “What for?” she asked. She was on edge now, assuming that he was ready to collect the debt she owed him.

  “Nothing you cannot handle, I assure you,” he said with a smile. “I’ll give you the details later. In the meantime, you should concern yourself with nothing other than enjoying this fine evening.”

  “Oh, hang on,” Vivian said, scrambling back up the stairs, “I almost forgot Sue’s gift.” She grabbed the white envelope and dashed back to him as he held open the door.

  “Such a small package,” Darkmore commented as they walked toward his car. “You know, the last wedding I attended involved an exchange of livestock.”

  “Oh,” Vivian said. She got distracted by the red Prius that was parked in her driveway. That induced another battle of the giggles. She had been expecting something more exotic. “Um,” she continued, “well, I thought Sue and Jack might find a gift card more useful than a cow.”

  “Goats.”

  “Or goats,” she conceded. “Do you dance?”

  “Like Fred Astaire. Shall we?” He even held the door open for her and helped her in. Vivian heaved a deep breath and tried as hard as she could to relax and look forward to the night ahead.

  ***

  They meandered toward Scarritt Bennett Center on foot, having opted for free parking some distance away. Vivian wasn’t sure if he was being cheap or if he just wanted a chance to talk some more. At least his innate coolness was keeping her from sweating like a pig in the long bridesmaid gown.

 

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