Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
SUNNY
Bright red and yellow dahlias (for kindness), blue delphinium (for an open heart), sunflowers (because they’re my favorites), and hydrangeas; always hydrangeas, for Ginnie.
Thank all that’s holy that the first responders didn’t cart me away for psychiatric evaluation, because every one of them side-eyed me the entire time they were in my shop despite me dutifully answering all their questions: no, there wasn’t anyone else in the shop; no, I didn’t really see a specter come for Bev’s soul; and yes, it’s wild what a traumatic event will make you imagine.
Except I didn’t imagine any of it.
I pull out the binder from under my counter that I never wanted to need, the one in which Bev has already laid out what flowers she wants me to deliver to her funeral.
The streetlight through the door shade illuminates the ordinary, empty expanse of my wooden floor where everything went down, but it was unspeakably miraculous less than forty-five minutes ago. I watched my friend die, and I’m devastated that she’s gone. I wipe fresh tears from my cheeks.
But.
But I watched her soul get up and carry on. She confirmed one of the biggest mysteries of life while Cor raised so many questions. A shiver slips down my spine. All this spirituality shit is real, and Cor’s really not human.
I relight my incense to áine and say a prayer for Bev.
I don’t remember everything I yelled at him in the cold chill of the moment, but I’m calm enough now to admit that whatever or whoever Cor is, he’s not evil—if Bev’s smile and trust in taking his hand is any indication.
She always was an excellent judge of character.
I should go home, but I can’t make myself leave without checking to be sure I have all of Bev’s flowers in stock, or if they must be ordered. I wipe fresh tears from my cheeks and open the binder.
An unfamiliar pink envelope falls out.
And Cor appears on the other side of the counter out of nowhere. I scream and scramble backward, knocking over a bucket of lilies that spill all over the floor. “Get out!” I yell in reflex.
His eyes widen, and he disappears.
I take a deep breath and press my hand over my hammering heart. “I meant, knock like a normal person!” I shout.
Immediately there’s a knock outside my door, and a now-familiar silhouette stands back-lit in the door’s window shade.
My heart rate isn’t slowing down, but at least he did as I asked. I stomp to the door and pull the shade marginally aside. Outside the glass, Cor’s eyes are mournful. “What do you want?” I ask ungraciously.
“I want to comfort you. May I come inside?”
“You swear you’re not gonna kill me, or take my soul, or…whatever you did to Bev?” My voice trembles on my last words.
His brows furrow and his soulful eyes are tortured. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I would never. And I can’t bring you…you’re not dying.”
I blink at him. All is well, he’d said to me when we met, and to Bev before she died. At the funeral, he said he knew the deceased woman from a…a short trip. I study his earnest eyes.
Oh.
Ohhh.
I unlock the door and open it, standing to the side to let him pass inside then locking it once he’s in. The big man stands frowning near the door like a chastised puppy.
“Are you an angel?”
He frowns, but shakes his head, no. “I’m not allowed to tell—”
“So then you must be a guide, right? Like a ferryman.” I fold my arms and stare up at him. It’s the only thing that makes sense, and he’s just spooky enough for it to be true. “You bring souls to the other side, don’t you?”
His eyes widen, and he looks so freaking guilty. But then his whole demeanor relaxes, and he briefly closes his eyes on a deep exhale. “Yes. I am.”
“What’s your real name? It can’t possibly be Cornflower.”
His smile is slow and hopeful. “You won’t be able to hear or understand it.”
“Try me.”
“I am called ———.” His mouth opens at the place he should say his name, but it sounds for all the world like just an exhale.
“Your name is…” and I exhale really loudly.
He smiles and shakes his head. “It’s more than breathing out, but it’s not a sound. It’s a soul calling to another soul.”
So he himself is a soul. I eye him up and step closer. “Don’t disappear on me.”
“I don’t disappear.”
“You don’t disappear,” I scoff. “Where do you go when I can’t see you? How do you walk through walls? What are you made of?”
Those dark eyebrows furrow again. “Sunny Day, I can’t…”
I cross my arms. “Just call me Sunny. Look. I’ve had a really hard day, and I think I deserve some answers.
” As frustrated as I am, my gut is pulling me to him, viscerally and emotionally.
I want him, and I need him, and I cannot fathom why.
“I thought we had something here.” My voice is small as I waggle my finger back and forth between us. “But you can’t be honest with me?”
“I’m trying to be,” he says, gently frustrated. “But I have rules to abide by.”
I bite my lip. Goddess help me, but I believe him. “Okay. Answer what you can. Is Bev okay? Is she safe?”
“Yes. She is home.”
Fresh tears fall through a smile. “With Ginnie?”
He nods with a smile. I step closer and lay my hand experimentally against his chest. My hand hits solid, suited flesh, and a muscle feathers in his jaw. “What are you?”
He pauses and takes a deep breath, apparently considering his words. Finally, he says, “I’m a human soul, like you, but one who’s never experienced life.”
I cock my head, studying him. “You’re pretty…solid. What are you made of, if you’re not, like, alive?”
“Of energy, the same as you.” He lays his hand over mine, so gently. “But my body is held together purely with divine love, so I can do things and go places you cannot.”
“Like disappear and travel through the air.”
He bites his lip. “It must appear that way to you.”
“Well, don’t do it now, because it’ll freak me out.”
“Okay,” he says softly.
I look up into his eyes, and I’m overcome with the strangest sense of belonging and safety.
And it doesn’t feel only spiritual, as in he’s a supernatural entity who ferries souls to their afterlife and therefore he’s a gentle, trustworthy being—because wow, what a responsibility.
It’s also that he’s inexplicably my gentle, trustworthy being.
I reach up and lay my hand against his face, and I want to kiss him again.
If the overwhelming desire I feel radiating from his gaze and presence—and pressing against my belly—is any indication, he feels the same. His gaze at my lips is as hungry as mine feels.
Do I dare let myself fall for someone so otherworldly?
Yes. Yes, I do dare. I move in closer, but he dissipates from under my hand.
I yelp. “I said not to do that!”
He reappears in my little alcove near a table I use with clients, his face all contrition among the flowers. “I’m sorry. I got, as you said, freaked out.”
I approach him again. “By me? I’m just a normal human woman.”
His dark, earnest eyes darken still, and he shakes his head, no.
“There is nothing normal about you, Sunny. You are extraordinary. You are light and warmth and love.” His eyes move all around my body.
“Your beautiful soul shines through your mortal body. You’ve touched the lives of countless humans with cheer and compassion—so many smile every time they think of you, on both sides of the veil.
” He smiles himself, and it’s radiant. “I have been serving for nearly three decades, but only you awoke this longing in my human soul. Longing to love and be loved. Longing to touch and be touched. Longing to live.”
I smile at his lovely words, spoken with such gentle ardor. To love, be loved, and live. Isn’t that all anyone wants? Even though it always ends the same. My smile devolves into tears. “I’m sad about Bev.”
His frown is gentle, and I know he’s feeling my sorrow right along with me. “I’m sorry that it was her time. But as you saw, life goes on in beautiful ways.”
“Will you hold me?” I ask quietly.
My feet leave the ground and I’m dipped sideways as he lifts me in his arms, bodyguard style. He stands still, observing me as if awaiting further instruction.
It surprises me into teary laughter, but I don’t explain that this isn’t what I had in mind.
Because it’s wonderful. I wrap my arms around his neck, lay my head on his shoulder, and press my face against his neck.
It’s warm, and the roses-and-incense scent of him settles deep in my chest and through my whole being.
He lays his head against mine, and we stay this way for long minutes as my crying runs its course.
I feel steadier and more supported than I’ve ever felt in my life, and not just because he’s holding me up off the floor.
His pulse is steady against my lips, and I have the impulse to kiss it.
In fact, with his thumb gently rubbing against my thigh, I have the impulse to do so much more with him.
A wise woman on Instagram once said that when you have the option to do a spiritual thing or a human thing, do the human thing because that’s the experience we’re here for. And right now, I need something life affirming, overwhelming, and deeply passionate.
I press a long, warm, lingering kiss against his neck, and the moan that breathes from his mouth against my hair sends a delicious ache straight to my core. I lift my head and gaze into his black-fringed eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
He licks his lips. “Yes, please.”