Page 92 of The Reluctant Reaper
“Ugh. Stop that.”
He kissed her, hard, and then pulled back. “I guess you’d better tell my mom about the new parameters. She’s gotta stay two states away, right?”
Amara stared.
“Oh, c’mon. You had to know I’d figure it out.”
Amara kept staring.
“All right, now I’m trying to decide if I’m charmed by your astonishment or pissed at your low opinion of my IQ. Which ishuge, by the way. The internet told me so after a rigorous quiz.”
“Are... are you mad?”
“No. It was another reason to love you. And you know I’m not talking about the money. But you should stop pissing away two grand a month. You’ve got your own fiefdom and I’m your co-fiefer. You don’t have to worry about Mom hurting me again. I wouldn’t allow it even if I wasn’t gonna be Death’s sweetie. Also, thanks for not beating her to death.”
“It was a struggle,” Amara admitted. “I broke all her eggs and called her names and threw money at her and she barfed right after I left.”
Gray snorted. “There’s a scene to picture. Look, it’s up to you, but I think you should stop. There’s just no need for it. And now to clumsily change the subject by asking if me moving in with you means I’m the new Hilly.”
She paused and considered. “I guess it does. Maybe not immediately.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of responsibility. I’d better learn how to make lefse pretty quick.”
“No rush.” She kissed him back. “You’ve got years and years to learn.”
ChapterForty-Seven
“And finally, how does one smoke a turkey?”
“Darling, you remember that I’m not the one who died, right? That I’m the widow, not the corpse? I’ll still be here. Amara has assured me I can remain for the rest of my life, however long or short. I’ll still keep you in smoked turkeys and oatmeal spiked with kale.”
However long or short.Amara helped herself to more meatballs and wondered if Hilly’s longevity would be cut short, as she was no longer Death’s consort. Elderly widows and widowers often died within months—sometimes days—of their spouse’s death. Would her mother follow the pattern? Or begin an entirely new existence?
Regardless, the lady was right. This was her home, too. However long or short her life.
“Hilly, you know I’m sorry about your husband.”
“I do, thank you.”
“But I didn’t know he and Amara were going to work a trade to save—I mean, to extend my life. I didn’t even know that was a thing.” Gray looked anxious and had stopped scribbling notes. “But if I had, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”
“I know, darling.” Hilly gave him a comforting squeeze. “Amara takes after her father in many ways, including her insistence on making life-and-death decisions for other people.”
“Still in the room,” Amara announced.
“Good to know,” Gray replied. “And do I even want to know what you guys did with Skye’s corpse?”
“Where do you think La Croix and Chernobog went off to?”
“Cool, cool. If those two decided to buy a van and drive around solving mysteries, I’d like and subscribe.”
“I’m the mystery solver,” Amara said. “It just takes me a really long time to realize thereisa mystery.”
“And what about your dad? A funeral, right?”
“Oh, yes, Gray,” Hilly replied. “And when it’s done, we’ll burn him and give him back to the earth.”
“Oh.” Gray, who had just piled second helpings on his plate and scored a big fat strawberry for Amara, took his seat at the table. “While we’re talking about this stuff, does Skye being dead mean no one on the Isle of Skye can die?”
