Page 93 of The Reluctant Reaper
“No. There was a new avatar the moment Skye went belly-up.”
“Let me guess: It’s complicated.”
“Well.” Amara shrugged.
“And it’s amazing that Skye’s death was dramatic and an anticlimax at the same time. I mean, you barely touched her. One second she was spitting and the next...” Gray mimed slitting his throat with his finger. “Canceled.”
“That’s not what canceled means, and it was only anticlimactic because I’d finally opened myself to all I could do.”
“Like Captain Marvel. You realized all this time you’d been fighting with one hand tied behind your back.”
She sighed. “If that helps you.”
“You bet it helps me. It’s no coincidence that when we got here a few days ago, the first thing you did was say howdy to your folks, theninstantlydyed your hair. Even though you just did it two weeks ago.”
“It’s too early in the day to be psychoanalyzed.”
“Ha! Not hardly. Watch me take it further: The migraines weren’t migraines.”
“Correct.”
“I mean, you said it a couple of times, but I didn’t get it right away. They were a... I dunno, a symptom? A side effect? Of squashing your Death Lite powers?”
“Correct.”
“Which I told you!” Hilly cried. “Years ago! But now you hear it from Gray, you accept it?”
“It’s not just hearing it from Gray,” she grumped. “Can’t we just agree it’s ancient history?”
“Uh... which part?”
“No,” Hilly said with a frown. “You’re forgetting your Faulkner, dear.”
“You bet I am.”
“The past isn’t over, it’s not even past?” Gray guessed.
“Close enough, dear.” To Amara: “You’ll need to meet with our accountants this week. All that was Death’s is yours.”
“So, downside, you’re the Grim Reaper. Upside, you’re a millionaire. It’s none of my business, but how are you guys rich? Did Death get in on the ground floor for inventions? Did he know the telephone would catch on? And TVs? And, I dunno, fabric softener?”
“Freyja Brunhilde Göndul weeps gold,” Amara replied with her mouth full. Crazy how Death’s death was revving up every engine: She was starving, horny, and itching to sign tax paperwork. Itching to file something, even. And Reap, God help her!
“Uh. What?”
“My tears would turn into gold. And over the centuries, I found much to weep over.” Freyja waved away Gray’s astonishment. “I can’t do it anymore, which is just as well. We have all the funds we’ll ever need. At some point it becomes outright greed.”
“I was thinking your husband invested in the printing press, but that works, too.”
“Yes.” To Amara: “Everyone is coming over again tonight to fête you.”
“Joy. Let’s meet in the cave, just to make La Croix miserable.” She grinned, picturing it. “I imagine we should all get used to things being a little different.”
“It goes without saying your father had his way of doing things,” Hilly said, “and you’ll have yours. And, as you said, you’ll have help. Now forgive me if I’m seen to pry, but will I have the joy of planning a wedding anytime soon?”
“I dunno if it’s a joy,” Gray said doubtfully. “It looks really stressful. Unless TV and movies have been lying to me.”
“Wejustadmitted we’ve been in love, Mom.”
“Well, it’s not like you two have to get to know each other. Or want to be with anyone else. You’ve had years to find alternatives but remained with each other.”
“True. No surprises. Same old, same old. Yawn,” Gray said.
“Snore,” Amara agreed.
“Theonlyway I’d be interested is if you guarantee we can look forward to ‘same old, same old’ for at least a century.”
“I guarantee nothing. In this you’ll be like everyone else. Roll the dice. Take your chances.”
“Done,” he replied, and kissed her.
