Page 33 of The Reluctant Reaper
“Yes, Hilly,” Penny giggled. “Count all those blessings.”
“Wait, Amara. You could have gone to Paris but you picked Minneapolis?” Gray asked.
“You’re missing the point.”
“Am I, though? Look, all I’m saying is, I get why you wanted a small place after growing up here.”
“And allIam saying...” Hilly continued.
“I feel like I shouldn’t have brought up your living arrangements,” Gray confessed.
“Agreed.” It wasn’t the conversation, however annoying. It was how the others were 100 percent focused on the conversation. Most of them were even leaning forward, so as not to miss a word. Ridiculous. You’d think death gods had higher priorities than her living arrangements and her parents’ notes on the same. “Besides, my mother has a rule, no psychoanalysis during meals.”
“Among other things,” Hilly replied. “Such as the rule about feeding animals while at the table. I see you, young man. You never mind those hounds.”
“What? Hounds?” Gray’s exaggerated innocence reminded Amara why he was a terrible poker player. “Ohhhh,hounds. That’s what you were talking about. Y’know, I forgot they were even there.”
Even Arawn snickered at the bold lie. The hellhoundlets had followed them into the dining hall, then taken their spots beneath the bank of windows, where they remained bright-eyed and attentive, their silky ears cocked, unwavering gazes following the food. Gray kept sending them longing looks and was discreetly (ahem) pushing a small pile of dachshund-sized bits to the edge of his plate.
“Oh, Hilly, what a pity your husband can’t join us for breakfast,” Penny said.
“Agreed. But. He’s indisposed.”
“Indisposed,” La Croix repeated, as if he was tasting the word.
“So it’s true?” Hank asked. He’d torn up his rye bread and was feeding Penny tiny pieces, but now his gaze went to Hilly. “I mean, I got the impression from you that it was bad, but... that bad? Death is dying?”
“No,” Amara replied even as her mother said, “Yes.”
“This is not encouraging,” Arawn observed.
“Failing,” Amara clarified. “Not dying.”
“Yes. Failing. Would anyone like some venison? I could get a roast started.”
“Please don’t cook more food, Mom.” To Hank: “He’ll be fine. We’re just working out some family issues while he recovers. I’m not even going to be here that long.”
No one agreed. And no one demurred. La Croix just sat there with his habitual smirk. Penny and Hank, after looking at her, her mother, and then back at Amara again, resumed being lost in each other’s eyes. Arawn simply sat and looked at her over steepled fingers. And Skye, shoveling bacon in like she was getting paid, kept her head down and ate.
“Of course, we all wish for Death’s swift and thorough recovery,” Arawn finally said smoothly. “And it is a relief to finally discuss the pachyderm in the dining hall. But with the utmost respect, we all know you would downplay his condition regardless of the severity.”
“Truth,” Skye announced, coming up for air and ham. “He could be hemorrhaging out his ass and you’d dismiss it as indigestion. You know it’s true, Amara.”
“And so,” Arawn continued with a pained sigh, “Skye’s revolting example aside, I have to give more weight to your dear mother’s diagnosis.”
“You wait,” Amara replied. And she didn’t sound nervous. Because shewasn’tnervous. Because there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. Death would be fine and this—all of this—was unnecessary. “He’ll get better. You won’t have to pretend to care much longer.”
“How dare you,” Penny huffed. “Your father’s recovery is our top priority. Your insinuation otherwise isnnpphhnotnow, Hank.” Penny chewed and swallowed the brown cheese Hank had stuffed in her mouth.
“My father’s your top priority—I believe that. But to what end? You can’t want his job. And you’re not pals. So why are you circling like vultures?”
“Your mother invited us. Hardly ‘circling.’”
“Yes. Great. Here you all are.”
“Except the guy who comes at night,” Gray put in, and if she hadn’t been proud of him before, she would have now. He was stressed and surrounded by death gods, and he was paying attention to all of it.
“We were invited,” Hank pointed out. “It would have been rude to ignore your mother’s kind invitation.”
