Chapter 17 #2
I smile at the memory. “Is she okay?” I say, my voice sounding like a frog’s.
Rafael repeats the question for Helene, whose hand stills over her chest. “She’s showing me some pain around her passing now.”
My heart jerks in response. Endless nights and weeks and years. Feeling alone, gutted, and afraid.
“There was pain. There is,” Rafael says, answering for me. As if he can see right through me. A part of me wants to know how he’ll use this against me. Another part knows he never would.
“She’s showing me she didn’t feel pain, and she certainly doesn’t want you to feel pain.
She’s showing me the symbol for moving on.
She wants that for you.” Helene’s smile is kind.
I breathe through my mouth to keep the tears from falling.
“She’s showing me she’s with you always, and …
she’s doing this.” Helene’s hands clasp together and squeeze. “Hold on.”
The air thins, and I’m sucked into a memory. Hold on, Annie whispers, voice barely audible. She’s clammy, pale, and trying to smile. Her green eyes flicker to mine—scared but steady. I grab her hand. She squeezes back, weakly. My other hand scrambles for the phone, needing to call 911 again.
I remember feeling frantic—panicked. She was fading. Her body felt too small, even though she was taller than me. I held on to her with all of me. “Stay with me,” I whispered. “Please.”
That’s how the paramedics found us—her head on my shoulder, my hand locked on her like it could anchor her to this world, to me.
Tears slide down my cheeks, too fast for me to mask them. Rafael is watching, but I detect no smirk. No judgment. “What else?” I ask, sniffing.
Rafael repeats my question.
“The holding-on is important to this person,” Helene muses. “Maybe she’s telling your friend to hang in there. I don’t know the specific meaning of what spirits share—that’s for their loved ones to piece tougher, and I hope it means something to you.”
It does. It means everything.
How often did I stay awake, wondering if she was taken care of? More times than there are stars in the sky and raindrops in the ocean. All it took was getting separated from my body to get an answer. Helene—and Rafael—gave me a gift. My big sister’s okay.
“I’m afraid I don’t know.” Helene’s voice reminds me I’ve zoned out. I blink, focusing on the present. “If she’s here with you, it means there’s something keeping her from moving on.”
They’re talking about me.
“Perhaps you must start there,” she continues, leaning on her cane.
“How do we get her to not move on?” Rafael asks, his voice quiet. There’s something else there, something I can’t pick apart.
Helene’s smile turns pensive. “Darlin’, I wish I had an answer for you.
The world can be hard and cruel, and although it feels like centuries that my old body’s been on this earth, this is the first I’ve heard of a spirit stuck in between for so long.
But I wonder …” She taps a red nail against her chin.
Rafael leans forward. I hold my breath.
This could be it. Our answer.
“Maybe she has some unfinished business. Something she didn’t get closure on or something she’s not quite ready to let go. That might be what’s going to bring her back,” Helene says.
“Unfinished business,” Rafael repeats, focused on me. Like he’s asking me.
I take a deep breath to keep the rush of anxiousness at bay.
Everything is unfinished.
“Unfortunately, I’m running late for brunch with a special someone, and I’m going to be uncharacteristically inhospitable and send you on your way,” Helene says.
We both look to her. She leans on her cane as she pushes to her feet.
“But you come back, and I’ll be happy to see if I can learn a little more. I do hope you understand.”
“Of course,” Rafael says. “Thank you so much for your time.” He unfolds himself from the chair and sets the kitten down in his place. She stretches, purrs and settles back to sleep.
“She’ll certainly be happy to see you back.” Helene gestures to the kitten.
“I’ll bring treats next time,” Rafael says as he digs into his pocket and tugs out his wallet. “Please let me know how much I owe you.” He leafs through the bills.
Helene sets a hand atop his. “No need for that, young man, but if you can manage to get a hold of that wonderful tequila of Lupe’s and set it aside for the next time, we’re even.”
“It’s a deal. Thank you.”
Helene pats his arm before she hobbles toward me, passing me without so much as a twitch in my direction.
Rafael slows to a stop beside me, his eyes assessing in that disconcerting way of his. “Ready?”
I’m not, but I nod. A part of me wants to remain here and recount everything Helene told me about Annie. Another part knows I have to push forward and figure out how I’m going to stay here. Hold on, Annie said.
I glance around the room one last time before I follow Rafael out of the house and onto the lawn, taking a deep, deep breath when the sun hits my face.
It’s my Annie ritual. Whenever life goes “pear shaped” (Great-Aunt Julia’s phrase) and I need Annie, I find her in sunshine.
I miss you, I tell her. And I’m going to figure this out.
I feel Rafael beside me. “Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that would be so …” he starts.
I spin, facing him. “It was everything,” I say truthfully. Surprise—and maybe doubt—lights his eyes. I wouldn’t have known about Annie without his stubbornness to stay here, but I can see he needs some convincing. “I’m serious.” I hold up three fingers.
Rafael’s lips quirk. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, E, and I’m sorry you had to experience it.” His honesty rattles me. I blink, unsure of what to make of it, of whatever is happening between us. Showing each other these parts of ourselves. Almost like we’re friends.
You’re not friends, Pre-Coma Evie pipes up. That’s right. We’re just partners with one mission: I get back to my life. He gets my promotion.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “So, what’s next?”
Rafael’s quiet for a moment. Not-friends don’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you, Coma Evie adds. I suck in a shaky breath, because he is looking at me like he wants to make sure I’m okay. It only intensifies the sensation of not having enough oxygen.
“Depends on what you’re up for,” he says at last.
“Short of animal sacrifices, just about anything.” I slowly release the bubble of air, eager to be back on normal Evie vs. Rafael ground.
“Okay, does that include deer? Because they’re overpopulating Illinois, Michigan—”
“Rafael,” I warn. “No.”
“Kidding!” He holds up his hands in defense. “I’d prefer you don’t haunt my bloodline!”
It gets tougher to not smile. “Do you have ideas that don’t involve murdering animals?”
“Actually, yes.” He lifts his phone. “Lupe wants to meet us at the hospital.”
My anxiety rebels, but I manage a nod.