23. Epilogue
Keir
A year later...
“I’m taking Grace with me to the funeral home. I’m just doing paperwork today. Do you need anything before I go?”
Dash sat up and whispered. “No. We’ll be sticking close to home today. He was up and down all night. I’m going to call the doctor to get an appointment for him. It’s probably just a bug, but I’ll feel better knowing it’s nothing more.”
Davy was sick. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving and things were hectic because we were hosting Thanksgiving at our home outside Reardon this year. The last thing we needed was to get the whole damn family sick. Dash had taken the night shift because he was a sweetheart, and I planned to get Grace out of the way so he and Davy could rest.
“Okay, love. Call me if you need anything. I’ll try to make it a short day. Lake will be in today for inventory, and Amelie will be coming in, too, so if you need me to come home, I can leave Grace at the funeral home with them.”
Dash nodded, blew me a kiss so I could stay away from the germ zone, and I blew him one back before I stepped out of Davy’s room and closed the door.
I walked to Grace’s room, thrilled to see she was packing her backpack to take with her to Dearly Funeral Home. I didn’t take the kids to the funeral home often, but I didn’t want it to be a mysterious, scary place. I wanted both children to have a healthy respect for life and death.
“You ready, Grace?” She glanced at me for a moment before staring at her bookshelf and nodding.
“Yes, Daddy. Can we talk for a minute?” She seemed very unsure of herself and she didn’t turn my way.
I walked into her room and sat on the edge of the bed next to her backpack. “What’s up? Do you need to tell me it was you who threw Davy’s toothbrush in the toilet?”
The previous night had been a fucking disaster. Davy started throwing up while I was at the grocery store buying the food for Thanksgiving, and Dash had called me to bring home a new child-sized toothbrush because Davy’s was in the toilet. Things went downhill from there.
“No, Daddy. Pépé tossed it because it was germy.”
I did a doubletake. Pépé was French for grandfather. Where in the world did she learn that? My dad used to call his grandfather Pépé.
“Who’s Pépé?”
Much to my surprise, Grace pointed to the bookcase. “Pépé says he needs to talk to you. He wants me to trans... transpate. Oh, translate. Sorry Pépé.”
Grace moved her backpack and sat beside me, taking my hand as though she was many, many years older. I couldn’t get any words to come out because I was stunned silent.
“Pépé says he’s proud of you. He’s decided to cross over and wait for Nana, but he wants you to know he’s proud of how you’ve handled everything.” The sincerity in her face was inexplicable.
“Your grandfather is here. Right now. He’s talking to you?” Surely not.
“He talks to me all the time, Daddy. He said he’s glad you donated the old lot for the cemetery. He says the memorial garden gets visitors almost every day, and he doesn’t blame you for not going by. Dash drops by on his way to Legacy, and he always says hi to the ladies and Kent.”
I almost passed out. Only Dash and I knew the headless boy interred at the memorial was named Kent.
I turned toward the bookcase. “Dad? Tell me she’s not the Gatekeeper or the Key.”
Grace giggled. “Pépé’s laughing. He says you shouldn’t worry. The new Gatekeeper hasn’t been born yet. The Key is yet to be determined.”
Okay, my daughter didn’t know ‘yet to be determined.’
“Will Gracie be able to see—will she be like I was?” Having the dead pop up unannounced was a bit of a mind fuck.
“He says not until she’s older. It’s in the genes.”
It was my turn to laugh. It certainly was. Dash was going to lose his mind.
“Don’t tell him.” Grace shrugged, and I chuckled again, pulling her to sit on my lap.
“Yeah, because I can get so many things past the man. This is your last trip to see us?”
“Yes. He won’t come back, but he’ll keep tabs on us, and if we need to know anything, Auntie Jo will pass the message when she comes to visit.” Jo was still in our lives, but they didn’t come see us often. We missed them, and now that Dash remembered they had been his guardian angel in the beginning, I believed it was hard for them to let go.
I nodded, tears coming to my eyes. “I’ll miss you, Dad. I wouldn’t have the life I do if it wasn’t for your guidance and love.”
Grace looked up and sniffed, reaching up to dry my eyes. “Don’t cry, Daddy.”
I kissed her forehead. “These are happy tears, sweetheart. No worries.”
“Pépé says he loves us and you should smoke that cigar when you meet your first grandchild. That’s why he was holding onto it.”
That made me laugh. “Will do, Dad. Love you. Say hi to everyone for me.”
“He’s waving and now he’s gone.”
Grace hopped down and zipped her backpack. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
I guessed I was too. Someday, I had stories to tell Grace about her Pépé, but not until she was older. I wanted my children to have a wonderful childhood and not grow up too fast.
My childhood memories were everything to me, and the ones I made with Dash and the kids were things I would cherish my whole life.
When the family business is death, one comes to cherish life even more.