Page 55 of Deja New
“That cop. Not Klown. The other one. He’s really sad sometimes.”
Angela blinked. “Oh? I think—I think that’s just the nature of his job, Jacky. He works homicide. He deals with dead bodies and grief every day.”
Jack slowly shook his head. “I don’t think it’s because of his job.”
“You’re right, Jack,” Leah called from the other side of the kitchen.
They both turned to her, surprised. Archer immediately pointed at Leah. “It was the Insighting eavesdropper! It wasn’t me this time!”
“Eavesdropper? They’re five feet away having a conversation in normal tones of voice.” Leah turned back to them. “Detective Jason Chambers has depression. Or maybe dysthymia. He’s had it for at least three lives.”
Jack seemed to find that gratifying for some reason. “I knew he was sad, I told you!”
Archer shook his head. “Leah, I will never get over how creepy and impressive that is. Ow! Don’t pinch. Fine, it’s just impressive. Not creepy at all.”
Angela realized she was gaping (her mouth had even fallen open a little, creating a sexy goldfish look, how embarrassing) andlooked away before Leah caught her. The wonderfully be-socked Jason was coping with depression or—or the other thing Leah mentioned?
Mental note: Look up dysh—dys—find out how to spell that word and then look it up.
And he’d been enduring it for multiple lives? Was that why he was so composed and quiet and calm all the time? Was he trying to learn from his other lives, or just enduring until he got a reboot? She was dying to ask him about it. She was dying to ask him any number of things.
But.Why did Leah do that?Leah was a professional; she didn’t diagnose near-strangers, especially out loud, especially when they weren’t her client, and especially not with others in attendance. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Leah was showing off. And since shedidknow better, what the hell was going on?
“What the hell is going on?”
“Gah!” Angela turned and saw her mother standing in the doorway.Annnnnd my morning gets weirder. She’s dressed! And interacting with family! At 8:00 a.m., no less. That’s— Wait, why am I mentally bitching about this? This is great. I can actually discuss my concern for a family member with an engaged parent who is fully clothed.She stepped forward and lowered her voice. “Mom, I’m glad you’re here. Can we go into the other room so I can talk to you about J—”
“I don’t want to talk about Jacob or Jason or whatever cop you’ve got fumbling around like an impotent idiot.”
Angela blinked.Okay. Lots of errors in that statement, starting with the fact that I wanted to talk to her about her youngest son.
And “fumbling”? “Impotent”? That’s a lot of rancor for someone she’s never met.
“Well, then, I’ve got great news, Mom.” But before she could finish
(cheer up, it’s being shelved again! again)
her mother cut her off for the second time. “We talked about this.”
“I know, Mom, and the thing is—”
“I said I don’t want you going again.”
Angela paused. “Careful, Mom. That was almost forceful.”
Widow Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t you see what it’s doing to your brother?”
“Which one?”
“I’m fine!” Paul bellowed from somewhere in the house. “Leave me out of it!”
“Look at him!” Her mother pointed to a startled-looking Jack, who had moved on from Martha Stewart and was now clutching James McNair’s*Afternoon Delights: Coffeehouse Favoritesto his chest. “He’s clearly not sleeping. This is a tough time of year for all of us, and you’re making it worse.”
Angela tilted her head to one side and studied her mother. “How am I, personally, making this time of year worse for ‘all of us’?”
“He’s dead. Let him stay dead.”
Er. What?“Mom—”
