Page 65 of Mourner for Hire
“How is itjusta job? Or how is itmyjob?” I ask because I know how nuanced my profession is.
“Like, how is it your job? Isn’t it weird to deal with dead people all the time?”
“I don’t deal with dead people,” I answer honestly. When he shoots me a questioning look, I explain further. “I deal with living people. I meet them when they are very much alive, months—sometimes even years—before they pass. They tell me their wishes. They fill out a form. We both sign it. There are many aspects of end-of-life care. Doctors, hospice, coroners, medical examiners, funeral directors, will executors…” I shrug. “Mine is just different and lesser-known but no less important.”
“Hmmm…” He shoves his hands in his pockets and dips his Birkenstock in the sand by the front walkway.
“I’m fulfilling her wishes. If it were me, I wouldn’t be here doing… all of this,” I confess, waving a hand in the air. “Trust me. I’ve never had a family member react so viscerally to me, and I truly wish Dominic knew my intention. I’m handling this whole situation with care, whether he believes me or not.”
Connor’s lips quirk into a slight smile. “I think he knows this is for the best even if he has a weird way of showing it.”
I tense. “He has a right to hate me. I plan on letting him.”
He laughs at this, and I reach for the door, ready to be done with this conversation. Connor is sweet, truly. He reeks ofnice guyin the best way… you know, minus the socks. But I have no interest in making friends here even if the people are interested in me. Though, he could just be the polite veterinarian in the small town looking for a lady to fancy, and maybe a part of me wouldn’t mind taking advantage of the company. This job is lonelier than any I’ve done before.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you.” He flashes a million-dollar grin,and I smile back.
“Thanks, Connor. Have a good day.” I turn to go inside.
“Hey, if you want to grab dinner sometime, I’d love to take you out. Give you a break from living in a dead lady’s house.” He chuckles to himself.
I nod. “Yeah, sure. Maybe another time, though. My head really hurts.” I gesture to the glued scab on the top of my head, milking my minor injury for all its worth.
“Right. Call me if you start vomiting or lose track of time or experience any other concussion symptoms,” he says, slipping me his vet hospital card. His personal number is clearly scrawled on the back.
“I will.” But I won’t. I barely hit my head. Yes, I bled a lot and got rather faint, but this entire thing turned into a situation. One that has ensured I won’t show my face in town for at least a few days.
I enter the cottage and flop on the couch—annoyed, tired, and anxious to take all of those emotions out on this renovation.
I pull open my phone and check for the nearest hardware store. Once I find it, there’s a knock at the door. I trudge over and swing it open.
“Hey! You left the market early!” Annabelle exclaims.
“Thank you for knocking,” I mutter.
“Listen. I’m not half-bad about boundaries, but I will continue to check in to make sure everything is… fine.” She glances around the cottage. “Is everything fine?”
I look behind me to see if another ghost appeared.
“Yes,” I answer timidly. “Why?”
“I just heard you left with Connor, and I didn’t know if he was here or not or why you would even entertain him.”
“I’m not entertaining him. He was just being polite and walking me home.”
She crosses her arms. “I never liked him much, just so you know.”
“Okay,” I answer plainly because I don’t give a damn. Whenshe stares at me, expecting an argument like I’m a petulant teenager, I add, “I’m not interested in Connor.”
“You sure? Because he seems very interested in you. I heard Dominic and Eli discussing it after you left.”
I blow out a breath. “You really shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations with your son and his best friend. You might hear something you don’t want to hear. You know, maybe even something incriminating, like how he plans to kill me while I’m living in your house.”
She laughs. “Yeah, right.”
“You sure? He’s a very hateful man. Threatens me constantly. Makes me bleed.”
Annabelle just rolls her eyes.
