Page 11 of After Life
Oscar’s foot hit my bad leg with more force than I thought absolutely necessary, but he didn’t even glance at me when I made an embarrassing sort of squeaking sound. “Julian is still new at this and lacks tact.” Oscar smiled. “What he means is, is there something particular you’re worried about, Delia? Someone you miss, a message you’re hoping to hear?”
She shook her head as Ray-Don made a disgruntled, disagreeable sound. “No, no, no,” she protested. “I’m just wondering if they ever, I don’t know, tell you something weird.”
Oscar leaned in conspiratorially and stage whispered, “I once had a monk from the sixteenth century give me the monastery’s secret mead recipe.”
Ray-Don’s watch beeped, making Delia jump. “Well. That was kind of him, huh? Who says the dead can’t be accommodating. Not me, that’s who. Delia, thanks for lunch. I’ll stop by later to help get the storm shutters done on your place.”
“It’s just a hurricane watch,” she muttered, hesitating by our table as Ray-Don strode out, the door chime signaling his departure as a small cluster of older ladies in matching Tibbins Quay visors scooted in. “Sorry, gentlemen. Let me know if y’all need anything else.”
Delia hurried back behind the counter and started seeing to her new customers. I picked up my sandwich and took a bite as I glared at Oscar, reaching down to rub my shin. “Ow?”
“Julian,” he murmured, “please...”
Checking to make sure no one was overtly listening in, he leaned toward me and hissed, “I can’t not be a medium, Julian. Even on holiday.”
“I never said—”
“You acted like a prat about me seeing ghosts just now. I thought you...” He closed his eyes, setting his sandwich aside before opening his eyes to level a baleful, hurt glare in my direction. “I thought you were past that, honestly. And I don’t know how to feel right now.”
“You love me but you don’t like me.”
“At the moment, yes.”
The group at the counter shuffled over to a nearby booth. Oscar looked up at me, then at the door, and sighed. “There’s a ghost on the sidewalk. He keeps coming through the door then going back outside. He’s agitated. He kept me company at the house, while you were busy talking with Sandra about that stained-glass.”
“Oscar—”
“Don’t worry,” he said, sliding out from the booth. “I won’t waste your time talking to him since that’s not what we do on holiday.”
“All I said was no investigating, and you agreed,” I growled, slipping out to stand next to him and setting some bills on the table for Delia’s tip. “I never said no ghosts period.”
Oscar worked his jaw like the words in his mouth were hard, then nodded. “So you did. But I wonder if you understand the difference between what I do on camera and what I do every other moment of the day.”
“Don’t act like I don’t,” I muttered, taking his elbow in one hand and my cane in the other, leading him to the café door. “You know I’ve changed since we first met.”
“Yes. Now ghosts are academically fascinating.”
“What?”
Oscar opened the door and held it for me, his attention fixed on the sidewalk as I edged past. “I think maybe I do need that nap after all,” he announced. “Shall we walk back or would you rather call Sandra for a ride?”
A thousand things threatened to spill out, most of them things I’d regret. So I clenched my jaw and nodded once, curtly. “Let’s walk back.”
The trip back was quiet; Oscar slipped ahead of me and not looking back until we reached the house.
WHEN WE REACHED HONEY Walk, Sandra’s minivan was gone and the house quiet and dark. Oscar headed up the stairs with a barely mumbled comment about resting, leaving me in the foyer, at a loss. “Hey,” I called after him. “Oscar—”
“Not right now,” he sighed. “Just... not right now, alright?”
He didn’t wait for a response.
“Shit. Goddamnit. Shit.” I wanted to kick something but, with the way my luck had been running, I’d break my good foot and end up in the hospital for some reason.
A haunted hospital, no doubt.
With nothing else to do, I took myself to the study and stretched out on the settee, leaving my shoes by the door and my socks tucked inside. I sighed—my feet were a bit swollen, my body still adjusting to its new normal and creating all sorts of exciting new reactions to things I took for granted just a few months ago, like long walks or being able to sit in a car for more than an hour at a time and not be in pain.
Pity party, table for one.
