Page 12 of After Life
I could faintly hear Oscar’s voice from above, filtering through the vents no doubt, and hoped he was talking to Ezra. Maybe it’ll put him in a better mood if he is. Maybe we can sort this out later if he’s not so touchy...
I must have dozed a bit because Sandra’s sudden presence at my side startled me. One moment I was alone, the next she was towering over my supine form. “Make sure you don’t get your dirty socks and shoes on the soft furnishings,” she warned. “You have a comfortable bed upstairs, by the way. No need to use the study for a bedroom.”
I sat up, blinking away a trace of grogginess as I focused on her unsmiling face. “Oscar’s using the bedroom to make some personal calls,” I extemporized. “Thought I’d give him some privacy.”
She made a thoughtful sound in her throat and then, after a moment’s hesitation, sat in the armchair across from the settee. “I, um, wanted to ask you about your work. And since you’re on your own for a moment, I thought now would be a good time.”
“Oh, sure. Well. Right now I’m not doing much in the way of academics, if that’s what you’re after. I’ve been doing the show for several months now.”
She waved that off. “It’s not often I get a chance to talk about the real nitty gritty of things here. The handful of tourists we get, they ooh and aah over the rooms and ask about silly things like how people used the bathroom without indoor plumbing. It’s rare for someone who has an actual background in a complementary area to my own comes through here.”
“You sound like you miss academia.”
She stiffened. “I’m sure you know how it is. Once an academic, always an academic.”
“True.” I sighed. “I wish I could go back.”
“Why did you leave?” she asked.
I scoffed. “There was a scandal. Dated the wrong guy. What about you?”
“It’s a long story. Started after my partner died. It was sudden but not a surprise.”
“Oscar tells me all deaths are, whether they’re expected or not. In my limited experience, I have to agree.”
She nodded, starting at her fingers where they were knotted in her lap. “Your boyfriend... does he really speak with the dead?”
“Yeah. He does.”
She nodded. “Back when I worked at the university, some of the other folks in my department, they thought they could but nothing much came of it. I just wondered...”
Oscar’s footsteps sounded overhead as he moved toward the stairs, and Sandra’s expression shuttered once more. “Well. I suppose I should start dinner. I’d gone into town for supplies. Must’ve just missed y’all heading back.”
I started to point out there was no way she could’ve missed us, since there was just the one road in and out of the little town, but kept my mouth shut as Oscar stepped into the study and drew up short, seeing Sandra sitting with me. “Hey,” I said. “We were just talking about our former academic lives.”
Sandra rose to her feet, smoothing her hands over her rumpled linen shirt and giving me a brisk nod. “It’s nice to share with someone who knows,” she said. “I’d like to talk more with you about our shared interests later?”
“Sure. I’d love that.”
Oscar’s lips tightened, but he gave her a polite nod as she headed for the kitchen. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” he murmured, slipping in to sit on the settee next to me.
“It’s fine. We were just chit-chatting.”
He nodded, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. “I, ah, called Ezra,” he said after a moment. “He and Harrison are apparently having a lovely time in New Orleans.”
“Not sober, huh?”
A tiny smile broke through. “Just a bit tipsy. We talked about that email from Charlotte, offering to send me some family pictures I’d never seen.”
“Ah. And what did Ezra say about that?” This formality between us was making me itch. I wanted to shake him a little. I wanted to scream, something to break the tension and rattle everything loose. But instead, I folded my hands on my bent knee so I didn’t reach for him and waited.
“He said go for it. Which is basically the same thing you said,” he murmured. “I...” he huffed. “Damn it. Can we talk? Really talk?”
“I think we need to.”
He nodded again. “I... earlier, What I said about not liking you? Um. That wasn’t good of me. I didn’t mean that.”
I gave in to my urge to touch him, reaching across the short but incredible distance between us to lay my hand atop his. “It’s okay if you did,” I whispered. “I’d understand it, even. Sometimes I’m an ass. And I think... I think I can see how I fucked up.”
