Chapter 14
GERI
Bazel had been gone for two days.
Two days without the reaper lurking over her shoulder, making comments on the shows she watched, the amount of sugar she added to her morning coffee, or the dowdy and practical nature of her shoes. For a being that literally wore a tattered robe, he had a lot of opinions about fashion.
For two days, her apartment had been blissfully quiet.
She reread her version of the handbook, specifically looking for mentions of assignments changing.
Basically all she found was a warning that assignments were fate and inevitable, which she did not believe at all.
Any attempt at manipulation was futile and would result in disciplinary action, which she was more inclined to believe.
Management might put her on a performance-improvement plan, but they seemed the vengeful sort.
Given how nervous Bazel acted when he spoke of them, her money was on vengeful.
Bones, apparently, was sticking with her.
At first, Fiddlesticks’ tail puffed in alarm and she kept her distance, watching the dog mistrustfully from the top of the fridge.
Then something shifted. Maybe it was the way the dog crouched low and tucked her tail against her body, calm and submissive.
It usually took Fiddlesticks ages to warm up to a new person, but by the second day, they napped in the sun, a cuddle puddle of ordinary housecat and supernatural canine. Besties.
The ghost phone remained silent as well. No texts. No appointments. Just silence.
This was good. It was peaceful. Restful. Exactly what she needed while her body healed.
Why then was she bored? Being alone had never bothered her.
Holed up in her apartment with a book like a hermit?
Listening to her record collection? An ideal way to spend the day.
Between work, doctors’ appointments, family, and visits to the gym, she had a lot of things to accomplish to afford that day of being a hermit.
That was before the accident and before Bazel. Her space had been positively crowded and chaotic, but now she missed the chaos. Missed him.
Geri stretched, her body still aching despite all the walking and bike riding she’d done in the last week. She needed to do something. Sitting around wasn’t good for her.
“I’m not going to mope around all day,” she told Fiddlesticks before grabbing her camera bag.
The bag looked like it had been through it but the camera itself was in good working order.
She remembered being stunned at the steep price tag on Patrick’s photo equipment and remembered the subsequent argument about that, but the quality justified the price. She owed him an apology.
A gray sky that promised rain loomed over the city all day, growing increasingly gloomy.
The square across the street was relatively empty.
The trees had started to turn colors. With the sun setting soon, she could get some dramatic shots.
Maybe. Getting out of the apartment and keeping herself busy and not thinking about a certain reaper was the point.
Geri waved to the doorman as she left the building. Bones zipped through the scaffolding with an excited bark. The building was in a constant state of refurbishment and the scaffolding was a permanent fixture that rotated around the building like the moon orbiting the Earth.
The air outside was cold and somehow wet without actually raining. The square had a forlorn quality as it waited for the storm. The wind picked up. She didn’t have long before actual rain started. Geri drew up the hood on her rainproof jacket and went looking for interesting things.
The gloom from the gray sky and oncoming storm gave the square a haunted atmosphere.
She had never seen a ghost—as far as she knew—but this seemed like a good place to find one.
Hundreds of bodies were buried under the green grass of the square, victims of yellow fever, the poor, and even soldiers from the Revolutionary War.
The bodies were dust by now but they still had a presence, especially on colorless gray days.
Exactly two steps into the square, Bones growled. Geri froze. Whatever set off the dog’s stranger danger was bad news.
A ghost materialized in front of her, holding a bouquet of daisies.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jaxon said.
“And I’ve been avoiding you,” she snapped in irritation.
She tried to step around him. He blocked her. “Why?”
“Really? Why? You should be able to figure that one out.”
“I know you got hurt. I just want to talk and give you these.” He thrust the flowers at her.
Geri took the flowers and considered throwing them to the ground in protest and yelling at Jaxon. Scream until her voice was hoarse. Throw the biggest bitchfit possible.
But she had yelled at Bazel a handful of days ago and it hadn’t changed anything. She was still a revenant and a part-time reaper. She still felt miserable. Worse, she missed Bazel.
Absolutely no part of her would miss Jaxon, so she was safe in that regard. Yelling at him wouldn’t change what happened or heal her bruises. Having a conversation like an adult, however, might make her feel better. She needed to end this with him properly, face to face.
“Fine,” she said, and pointed to the nearest bench. “Talk.”
“I need to apologize for what happened. I didn’t think you’d get hurt.”
“No, you didn’t think—” Geri bit her tongue to stop herself from saying something mean. Not that she had any reason to spare Jaxon’s feelings. Instead, she said, “I didn’t get hurt, Jaxon. I died. My heart stopped. Clinically dead.”
“I know—”
“You don’t.” She pulled up the bottom of her shirt, revealing her very mottled green and yellow stomach.
“Oh, wow. That’s a wicked bruise,” he said.
“Yeah, and my entire body looks like this.”
“Your face—”
“I didn’t land on my face. I hit the back of my head.
That’s bruised too but you can’t see it.
Brushing my hair hurts and I can’t wear a hair clip.
” As if to prove her point, the wind picked up, whipping the stray strands of hair against her face.
She stuffed the strands back into the hood in an effort to control it.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked.
“No,” she said immediately. He wilted, slumping forward to rest his elbows on his knees. She continued, “I told you I didn’t like your prank videos. I asked you to stop it. You said you would, but that must have been a lie because you did it again.”
“It wasn’t a lie. I meant it at the time,” he said.
For all the good it did her.
“And I really don’t think you’d be apologizing if I hadn’t been seriously hurt.
You put the video on the internet, Jaxon!
You saw me ride away in an ambulance you thought my accident would make good content.
That is so…” She struggled to find the right word.
No single word encompassed everything in her chest. “Callous. Thoughtless. Insensitive. Mostly, it’s selfish. You’re a selfish man.”
Her words rang out. Molly was right. Geri had a type and her type sucked.
“That’s fair,” he said, sounding ashamed. Good. She hoped he had been losing sleep. “Do we still have a chance?”
“We’re through,” she answered. Then added, “It was fun but I’m not doing this anymore. And I’m sorry I broke up with you over text. That was a dick move.”
“I understand. Thank you for telling me to my face.” His lips twitched. “It sucked.”
She kept her expression dour, not about to indulge nostalgia for their brief relationship.
“I wanted to give you this.” He reached into a jacket pocket and handed her an envelope. “I want to help with your medical bills. I know it’s not enough.”
Inside the envelope was a check for five hundred dollars. Not enough, yes, but thoughtful. She should refuse. Money wouldn’t wash away his guilt or culpability. But she was practical. The amount wouldn’t cover her hospital stay, but five hundred dollars was five hundred dollars.
She folded the envelope in half and stuffed it in her jacket’s inner pocket. The first few drops of rain fell. “Thank you.”
“When do you go back to work?” he asked.
“Monday.”
“Wow, that’s fast.”
Another week to rest would be ideal, but Geri had decent coverage and benefits. Not great, only decent.
“It’ll be good to get back into a routine. The cat wants her space back.” It was a weak joke but she wasn’t sure what to say or do next.
“Fiddlesticks is very attached to her routine,” he agreed.
“I’m sorry.” She twisted on the bench to face him. “Are we friends now? Or pretending to be friendly? I’ve never done this before.”
“Yeah, I believe that. You seem like the burn-your-bridges type.”
Her back stiffened, then relaxed when he grinned. “Harsh.”
But accurate. Geri had never been friends with any of her exes. She was friendly with Patrick but because their contact was short and limited to texts. It’d be harder to keep her cool in person.
The rain picked up, cold drops stinging against her skin. The storm had arrived and would not be ignored.
“We can be friends, but I swear to God, if you prank me one more time, I will rip your soul from your body,” she said, not certain that was entirely possible. She’d have to consult the handbook.
“Deal.”
* * *
Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.
Geri smirked at her phone and replied, Where we going?
Warehouse club and grocery. Need paper towels, etc, Molly texted.
Wow, “the club.” You take me to the best places.
Once a month, give or take, Molly and Anh piled in the car and did a big shopping trip.
Geri appreciated being dragged along. While she couldn’t use the warehouse club-sized bucket of mayo, she wouldn’t say no to a massive package of paper towels, laundry detergent, cat litter, and toilet paper.
Apparently being an adult in your thirties brought an appreciation for a well-stocked hall closet and pantry.
She was never using the restaurant-sized roll of aluminum foil, though. That thing would be inherited by the apartment’s next tenant.
I can’t believe you actually put in quotes. Dork. Get your shoes on. We’ll be there in thirty, Molly wrote.
Geri checked her cabinets and freezer to make a quick list. She could use another bag of chicken pot stickers.
The dumplings were great to toss into a bowl of ramen noodles.
Also, ramen. She used her last package yesterday.
Tomorrow was her first day back at work since the accident—such a tidy and hygienic way to say since she died—and she’d need coffee.
Going through the economy size as a single person was not a problem. She’d need almond milk too.
“Will you eat dog food?” she asked Bones, who managed to look offended and yawned before claiming her spot in front of the balcony door. “Okay, only asking.”
Just as well. She didn’t know how she’d explain buying a large bag of dog food for a dog no one could see.
Once satisfied with the list, she went to change out of her grubby clothes into less grubby clothes.
Death was waiting for her, hood drawn down and cloak moving in an ethereal breeze.
“What? No flowers?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips.
His posture changed, as if intrigued. “Would flowers soften your disposition?”
“Not really.” Flowers were a lazy gesture. She’d still be resurrected and forced to work as a reaper, only now she’d have to deal with a cat determined to munch on the flowers in the vase and make a mess.
“I have come to apologize,” he said.
“Oh? Well, don’t let me stop you.” She grabbed a shirt from her dresser and a pair of leggings from the closet. Moving her finger in a tight circle, she wordlessly ordered Bazel to turn around.
He complied, his back to her. “The actions I took were egregious. I did not consider your wishes. I did not even consider you as a person. You were a tool. I was desperate, but that is not an excuse for my selfishness.”
“And?”
“And?” His tone implied surprise, as if unaware of all the misdeeds for which he must atone. “And I apologize for holding my actions over your head, implying that you should be grateful for what I did to you against your will, without your consent.”
“And?”
“There’s more?” He turned around just as she finished dressing.
“An apology has three parts,” she said. “Acknowledgment of what you did wrong, recognizing how it caused pain, and your intentions to correct the behavior.”
Once, years ago, she had said the same thing to her soon-to-be ex-husband. He simply couldn’t make it past the first step. He twisted his infidelity back on her. She worked too much. She was never home. She was tired. He was lonely. He had no choice.
Geri refused to play that game. Keeping his dick in his pants was always a choice within his power. And right now, she had to know that Bazel wouldn’t treat her like something he could order around.
The cloak moved gently in the unseen wind. “I cannot undo what occurred.”
“I’m not asking you to,” she replied, fully aware that while she was giving him a hard time, yes, she was glad to see him. She had missed his moody, melodramatic ass.
His hands flexed, as if longing to grip a tool that was not there. “I do not want to give you an empty pledge. What would satisfy you?”
Asking what she wanted. An excellent sign.
“The next time we have a disagreement, don’t throw that without me you’d be dead shit in my face. Treat me like a coworker and not your minion.”
There was an uncomfortably long pause.
He couldn’t do that? A coldness swept over her. Fine. She couldn’t cut him out of her life, not immediately, but she could stop this silly crush. Probably. Anger could get her most of the way there, and spite would seal the deal.
“You are more than a coworker,” he said, his words vaporizing her intentions. “You are important.”
“Because you need me to get your scythe back.”
“No, because you are my...” His voice drifted into silence, unable to complete the statement. “You are important to me.”
Damn if her heart didn’t flutter.
“Then treat me with some consideration,” she said. “Stop keeping secrets from me.”
“Some information is dangerous for mortals.”
“Stop. Keeping. Secrets.” She jabbed a finger at his chest to punctuate each word, each jab meeting a brief resistance.
“Agreed,” he said, holding up his skeletal hands as if to fend her away.
“All right. You’re forgiven.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“That is all?” Bazel asked, following her to the door.
“It’s not rocket surgery. Do better. Be better.”
Geri cracked the door to find Molly holding a stack of DVDs on the other side.
“You didn’t have to fetch me,” she said, opening the door. Molly and Anh usually waited outside the building in their car.
“Anh’s in the car and I’m sick of looking at these. Here.” Molly pushed the stack into Geri’s hands.
They were movies Geri had brought over one at a time over the course of the last two years. “I didn’t realize I left so many at your place.”
“Yeah, well, stop leaving your junk at my house.” Molly tilted her head to the side and peered around Geri. “When did you get a dog?”