Chapter 3
GERI
What no one tells you about a near-death experience is how odd it is to slip back into everyday life. The milk in the fridge will go bad and the bread will turn moldy regardless of Geri’s personal feelings about her mortality.
The hospital kept Geri for two days. Two long, expensive days.
The visual hallucinations with the colors and lights were concerning but the internal bleeding had stopped.
Ultimately, it was decided that they would go away as her concussion healed.
She never told anyone about the nightmare with the grim reaper.
Before discharge, Molly secured two weeks paid leave for Geri. Yes, it was a little embarrassing needing her big sister to handle this stuff, but she was thankful because there was no way she could do it on her own.
Geri insisted on returning to her apartment. Molly hadn’t liked it but Geri wouldn’t move on this point. Her sister and Anh had a beautiful home, but Geri wanted to sleep in her own bed.
Compromise was achieved via casserole. Molly stuffed Geri’s fridge with enough food to last the month. All she had to do was heat up a plate, which was clever thinking. Everything hurt and anything requiring more thought than punching in forty-five seconds on the microwave was too complicated.
Swaddled in a fluffy blanket on the couch, she was determined to ignore real life and watch movies until Netflix cut her off.
Being a super talented and able-to-multitask person, she also ignored her ex.
Or so she tried.
Geri sent a brief break-up text. “We’re over. Don’t call me.”
Simple. To the point. It was a shit move, but Jaxon deserved shit.
He called and texted nonstop.
“Babe, don’t do this.”
“It was a joke.”
“We’re good together. Don’t throw this away.”
On and on with the cliches.
Geri finally replied with, “Look, we both know this wasn’t anything serious, so let’s just finish it. We had fun but the fun is over. I never want to see you again.”
Then promptly blocked him. Again, she knew it was a shit move, but that was what he deserved.
She’d have to join a new gym, which was a pain.
She liked her gym. It was close to her apartment and the showers weren’t gross.
Not going to the gym wasn’t an option. Despite her chubby figure, she wasn’t a fitness nut to lose weight.
Regular exercise kept her joints healthy and muscles strong.
It also helped prevent spontaneous bleeding, because that was a thing that could happen with hemophilia.
No injury necessary. Just her body deciding that now was a good time to spring an internal leak.
Taking a long walk around the city was an option now that the weather had shifted to autumn. Walking through the humid summer air of Philadelphia was like swimming through yogurt, hence the gym membership.
Maybe switching her schedule would be enough. Nicola at the front would give her a heads up if Jaxon was there.
She didn’t have anything to pick up at Jaxon’s place and he didn’t keep anything at hers. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. With luck, she wouldn’t have to see him again. All in all, it was a painless breakup.
Metaphorically. Physically, she remained in a great deal of pain. Her body was stiff and her bruises were tender to the touch. The headache finally vanished, even though the lights and colorful auras remained.
Every person had their own unique aura. She didn’t know if the colors held any meaning, like if green was healing and blue peaceful.
She could get a book on it but reckoned it was baloney.
The colors were a product of her misfiring brain, so if they had any meaning, it was something her subconscious dug up.
She wouldn’t find the answer in a new age spiritual book.
Having said that, there was a pattern. People she liked had bright, vivid auras. Molly had a golden aura. Anh was sky blue and lilac. People she didn’t like were dark and muddy. Her downstairs neighbor was burgundy.
The auras would go away with time, she kept telling herself.
Her cat, Fiddlesticks, pawed at the bedroom window.
“Do you want the window open? I suppose we could use some fresh air.” She opened the curtains and spotted a hooded figure in the park across the street. A lamp offered a puddle of illumination, but the light seemed to avoid the figure.
No way. Absolutely not.
Geri flung open the window and screen to lean out. “Hey. Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The figure lifted his head, but shadows obscured his face.
Her apartment was several floors above street level, but she recognized him.
“Is this another prank? Turning up at my place in a trashy Halloween hooded cloak like the grim reaper? Fuck you, Jaxon. This better not end up on the internet.” Rage bubbled inside her, churning and demanding to be released.
Her hands shook. “You want to know why I dumped your ass? Your pranks aren’t funny.
I told you to knock it off. You ignored me.
When someone tells you to stop, you stop. How is that hard to understand?”
No reply. Typical.
“Oh my God, lady, shut up!” the downstairs neighbor yelled.
She wanted to go down there and shake Jaxon. Hit him in the back of the head with a baseball bat and see how much he enjoyed a concussion. She wouldn’t, because she was a good person and didn’t want to be arrested.
“If you come here again, I’m calling the cops!” she yelled. Not that she expected the police to actually do anything. A man lurking in a public park? They’d laugh at her. She’d have to be mid-murder for them to take her seriously.
“I’m calling the cops now,” her neighbor answered.
“And your costume looks like a trash bag!” She slammed the window shut.
* * *
Geri wore sunglasses like a hungover rockstar and clutched her cup of coffee.
The overhead lighting hurt her head. She took ibuprofen before she left her apartment for the ache in her body but it was doing nothing for the pain behind her eyes or the pain in her ankle if she put her foot down wrong.
She should have turned down Savannah’s coffee invite, but her coworker said it was too important to wait.
She wanted to talk about her upcoming wedding. Geri failed to see how that could not wait.
That was grumpier than she felt. Truthfully, she jumped at the chance to get out of her apartment.
As much as she wanted to be home while she was in the hospital, now that she was home, she was bored.
She reached that listless stage of recovery where her body demanded sleep, but it never lasted long.
She kept jolting awake. Her head hurt too much to concentrate on anything and her body was too tender to get comfortable, so no laying on the couch watching movies.
The television played just to fill the apartment with noise.
Two weeks off from work sounded great, but this wasn’t a vacation. It was miserable. At least a coffee date added some variety to her day.
Geri’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. She frowned, dismissed the call, and flipped her phone face down to put it in do not disturb mode. She didn’t recognize the number but had a good idea who it was: Jaxon.
“Do you need to take that?” Savannah asked. She had long blonde hair in beachy waves and wore a lot of deep purple velvet and lace. The outfit was a little too witch-in-the-woods for Geri’s taste but it suited the woman’s vibe.
“It can wait,” Geri answered, returning her attention to her coworker.
The invitation to coffee was surprising.
Not that the women had been unfriendly, far from it, but Geri wasn’t outgoing.
She usually read during her lunch break and had no patience for gossip.
She wasn’t the let’s-hang-out-after-work type. “Why’d your photographer back out?”
Savannah leaned forward as if to confess a secret. She had a lovely warm aura of autumnal colors of red, gold, and orange that put Geri at ease. “Creative differences.”
People said that, but it was one of those phrases that meant nothing.
“Do you think your ex-husband can help me?” Savannah asked.
Ah. Now the coffee date made sense.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Geri said.
“Why? Is he a bad photographer?”
“No, he’s really talented.” The jerk.
“Then hook me up. I’m desperate.”
“He’s my ex,” Geri said, struggling with how to say that she didn’t want to talk to him. Actually, that would do. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Why?” Savannah’s tone grew serious. “Did he lay hands on you? Hurt you? Is that why…” She waved a hand at her face.
“No. I fell.”
Savannah did not look impressed by that answer. “I know people. You know, that kind of people. We can break his legs.”
That was surprising. Savannah seemed too sunny to know that kind of people.
“Then he wouldn’t be able to photograph your wedding,” Geri said.
Savannah shrugged. “The price of justice.”
Damn. She liked Savannah. Why hadn’t they hung out before? Oh, right. Geri was an antisocial goblin who hid from people.
“I was on a walking trail and slipped. Got a concussion and bruises everywhere,” she said, pushing up a sleeve to reveal the purple-green bruise on her forearm.
Yes, she was glossing over the prank situation with Jaxon, but she didn’t have the energy to go into all that.
She said, “And two weeks of medical leave.”
“That looks wicked. How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Stiff. Nothing time and Tylenol can’t fix,” she said, giving a forced smile.
Things healed a lot slower now that she was thirty-something compared to when she was twenty-ish, which was simply unfair.
Once she slipped on a patch of ice and slammed down on one knee.
The bruise there was so deep that her entire shin felt rock hard for a month and she had been twenty-eight at the time.
Honestly, the last time she hurt this bad was when she broke her arm as a kid.
“Are you sure you don’t need someone to have an accident?” Savannah asked.
“That’s sweet. I’ll let you know. But about your wedding, I need more information about the photographer. Patrick’s going to want to know,” Geri said, changing the topic. Any photographer would want to know the nitty-gritty details before agreeing to work with a demanding bridezilla.
“I have an amazing opportunity. Spooksberry Farm!” Savannah spread her hands in the air with dramatic flourish, leaving a golden trail that only Geri could see. “I couldn’t say no and the theme is spooky love.”
“Spooksberry Farm,” Geri said. The local amusement park, Red Berry Farm, rebranded for Halloween.
“Can you believe it?”
“Aren’t you worried about crowds?”
“The park is closed on Mondays. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves. The ceremony will be at sunset for maximum spookiness with the reception under the stars!” Another dramatic hand flourish.
“Lighting?” She hadn’t been to Red Berry Farm since she was a teenager, but she remembered all the neon lights.
The park wasn’t huge, but it was enormous for a wedding venue.
“It’ll wash out the reception photos. I mean, that’s Patrick’s problem.
His basic package comes with some edits for light and balance, but this is a whole other level. It’ll cost you.”
Savannah blinked. “Do I look like I care about the price?”
“I didn’t think you looked like you were into spooky love, so what do I know?” Now it was Geri’s turn to blink. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I did tell you about the concussion.”
“Did the concussion hurt your inner voice?”
“Actually, yeah,” she admitted. “I can’t seem to find my verbal filters and I’m really sorry about that.”
Savannah smiled and tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder.
“I’m what they call a whimsy goth. Jeremy is full into it, but his family is so uptight.
They’ll be horrified, which is on theme, you know?
Can he do October 26? The photographer we had booked said it was too much and no one else was available. ”
That was a lot of information all at once.
“It’s a month away,” Geri said. Chances were good Patrick was already booked on the weekend, but he might have a Monday open.
“Can you ask him?”
Yeah, she could. Did she want to? Meh. A spooky theme park wedding sounded interesting and right up his alley, though.
Geri reached for her phone and fired off a quick message for Patrick to call Savannah regarding a wedding gig on October 26. “Done. Patrick will call you.”
“Will he?”
“Patrick always calls back when it’s about a job.” About where he was or who he was with, not so much.
Her phone vibrated with a reply almost immediately.
“Why the short notice?” he wrote.
“Spontaneous change of venue. It’s a goth wedding at Spooksberry Farm,” she wrote back.
“Sounds like an influencer.”
“No. I work with Savannah.”
Actually…
“Just to check, you’re paying with money, right? Not, like, exposure because you’re a whimsy goth influencer?”
Savannah’s smile brightened. “Jeremy’s got a trust fund. I know his family thinks it’s gauche to talk about money, but I get you. Girls got to hustle.”
“The family’s loaded,” she wrote to Patrick.
“Look at that. My schedule opened up. Tell her I’ll call this evening.”
Geri knew she shouldn’t smile but she couldn’t help it. Patrick was so predictable. “He’ll call you tonight to iron out the details.”
Savannah clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. “I'm having the Halloween wedding of my dreams!”