Page 77 of The Reluctant Reaper
“How vague and horrifying.”
“One way to put it.”
“So what’s next?” Gray asked.
“I have to interrogate my mother.”
“Okay. Bring back more snacks.”
ChapterThirty-Nine
“There isn’t enoughfrikadellein the world for me to forgive you,” Amara announced. “But I’ll take an apology anyway.”
Her mother. Freyja Brunhilde Göndul. Goddess of sex, love, gold, and fertility. Currently scrubbing the shit out of one of her ovens.
She looked up, stood, and tossed the blackened washcloth over her shoulder into the sink. “You shall have one, darling.”
“Yes, well. That’s not an apology.”
“I’m very sorry.” Hilly’s undereye shadows were beginning to match her husband’s. “Truly.”
She never apologizes this quickly. Go for the kill! She is entirely at your mercy, FINISH HER.
“I deserve all your vitriol and more,” Hilly continued. “Worse: How can I face your father after this? I failed him. That’s if I’m even allowed to face him.” A lone tear trickled, fell off Hilly’s cheek, and hit the counter. She snatched a clean washcloth out of her apron and scrubbed it away like it had personally wronged her. “What if he never returns to us?”
FINISH H— Aww, nuts. No fun at all.
“You have to assume things will work out, Mom. The way you always have.”
“So ironic that this is all happening now. Your sweetheart is the perfect mate for someone whose duty is to meet people at the point of their death, several times, each and every day.”
Appalled, Amara replied, “I’d never ask Gray to shackle himself to the family business. Bad enough I have to do it.” Though she had to admit her mother had a point. “It’s moot, anyway. For a couple of reasons. This isn’t like you, Mom. Where’s that ‘the flagon isn’t half empty, it’s half full’ attitude that drives me absolutely bugfuck?”
“Gone. Possibly forever. Like your father.”
“Oh, come on! You can’t give up, he’s only been in a coma for a couple of days.”
“My darling, do you hear yourself? Death has ‘only’ been comatose for two days. That’s a bit like the cancer ‘only’ spread to your lungs and lymph nodes.”
“There’s an off-putting analogy. And it’s too soon to be so pessimistic. Like when my siblings died; you were determined to be a mother and hung in there and voilà! Here I am! You know... eventually.”
Several more tears joined the first. “Odd that you should mention your poor doomed brothers and sisters.” Hilly dashed away more tears and glared at the washcloth. “The last time I did something this shameful, your sister died.”
“Oh.” Idun. The girl Amara would never, could never, know. She’d looked like Amara, apparently, except she had white-blond hair, almost silver, and topped out at four feet eleven. Small enough to escape notice and seek all sorts of mischief. “Mom, I can’t imagine it was your fault she died. You would have done everything you could and then some. On your laziest day, you make mama bears look indifferent.”
Hilly was already shaking her head. “I failed her, as I failed your father.”
“Idun’s the one who got caught in a blizzard, right? Froze to d— Uh, succumbed to hypothermia?”A painless death, Amara thought but didn’t say. And maybe it was, but Amara bet it was lonely and scary, too. Especially for a kid.
“Yes, during her coming-of-age ritual. She was so confident—from the moment of her birth!—but I should have followed her.”
“But wouldn’t that have been against the rules?”
“She died alone. And I don’t doubt she called for me, in the end.” Hilly sniffled, then blew her nose into the washcloth. “I’d rather have a live disgraced daughter than the alternative. Thank all the gods Skye was there to help me through my grief. What a pity she never had children of her own.”
“Definitely a pity and also, that’s going straight into the wash, right? You won’t use it to wipe down counters on the way to the laundry room?”
“I think you should snatch Gray to your bosom and leave. Now. Tonight.”
