Raising the Dead

by D. B. Sieders

  They’d been going out on and off ever since. Mostly on these days. Seemed her friends were no longer content with just casual dates. Vivian was clearly expected to hurry up and jump on the marriage-and-kids bandwagon.

  Kay sighed. “She means well, bless her, and she just wants you to be happy. Now as far as I’m concerned, you can do what you want to with your life and time. As long as you keep babysitting, we’ll be just fine and dandy.”

  “Thanks,” Vivian said. “I’m just super-busy with work and the volunteer stuff I’m doing, and honestly I’m pretty satisfied being cool Aunt Vivie.”

  Volunteer was code and cover for her work with the spirit world. Oh, and it was definitely an unpaid position, so that fit, too.

  Kay leveled her gaze on Vivian and said, “I know you work hard at both, and I’m sure you’re very good at it. But that’s work.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And, well, we’re your friends and we love you and we just don’t want you to forget to live, that’s all,” Kay said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Vivian scowled. As if she didn’t know.

  “Don’t go getting all riled up and ornery with me,” Kay retorted with equal fire. It made Vivian feel like she was about fourteen all over again and gave her a little more sympathy for the kids. “Honestly, we’ve been worried about you ever since Mae passed.”

  “Why?” Vivian asked, exasperated, though her chest went tight and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “I’m back at work, and I’m doing something constructive with my free time. It’s not like I’m holed up like a hermit in my house.”

  Vivian didn’t enjoy revisiting her past in general, but she found reliving her time growing up with and later caring for her invalid sister especially painful.

  Especially since she’d lost more than her sister.

  “Nope, but then again, that’s not your style,” Kay said, busying herself with refilling their wine glasses. “I’ve known you for twenty years, Vivian. You keep yourself crazy-busy when there’s something going on that you just don’t want to deal with. You were a book-a-holic and binge drinker in college because you didn’t want to deal with being homesick. You were a work-a-holic after that when you didn’t want to face what was back home. And you were a shop-and-bar-a-holic when Mae came to live with you because you couldn’t face all of the memories and baggage that came with her. Need I remind you of your nickname? What are you hiding from now, Viv?”

  Vivian was flabbergasted. She swore if anyone ever called her Vivian “Betty Ford” Bedford again, she’d zap the bejesus out of that unfortunate soul. “Well, Kay, don’t go beating around the bush to spare my feelings or anything. Tell me what you really think.”

  “I’ve bared my soul to you on more than one occasion,” Kay continued, nonplussed. Her persistence was one of the things that Vivian really liked about Kay about seventy-five percent of the time. Right now was not one of those times. “I just thought you might like to return the favor.”

  God, she’d give anything to talk about him. She ached to talk about him.

  Vivian took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and then took small leap of faith. “Look, I haven’t told anyone about this, and I don’t want you to either, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Last year, at the end of Mae’s…life, I was really having a tough time. I thought I wouldn’t be able to get through it, but I met someone. He helped me.”

  If Kay was surprised, she didn’t show it. She simply nodded, topped off Vivian’s glass again, and then gave Vivian her full attention as she nursed her own glass. Kay’s gaze was focused on Vivian, and her face was calm and open.

  “He was there for me when I needed someone—when I needed him, and he helped with Mae. I could really talk to him, you know, tell him things. Those ugly things that I didn’t think anyone else would understand, and he didn’t judge.”

  She paused a moment as green eyes and a wicked grin flashed through her mind. Gooseflesh ran over her skin at the memory of his touch, his warmth, and his presence. She shivered as if someone walked over her grave.

  How appropriate.

  Kay nodded, waiting patiently.

  When she found her voice again, Vivian said, “He just…he was there. He took it all, the worst and the best of me. No judgment or pity, just understanding. He had been through some similar stuff in his own life.”

  What he’d gone through had been arguably worse, though he’d spoken little of it. Still, she’d learned the truth. He’d been the maker of his own hell. He’d made bad choices, but in the end, he’d found redemption. She’d played a small part in that.

  And he’d given her the same gift in return.

  “He was my friend and a whole lot more, but now he’s gone and I miss him so much it hurts.” She took a deep breath. She felt like she’d just lanced a particularly nasty sore, but it was a bearable pain, a healing pain.

  Kay took another sip of her wine and said, “You loved him.”

  “Yes, I did…I do. But I had to let him go.”

  Kay paused, and Vivian dreaded the next question. Kay surprised her when she simply asked, “What was his name?”

  “Zeke.”

  Kay slid out of her chair and walked over, enveloping her in strong, steady arms and giving her a shoulder to cry on. After, Kay offered her a tissue and some tea, and they sat in silence for a short time before Kay said, “Thank you for telling me about your Zeke. I’m sorry you lost him.” She stopped and appeared to consider whether to push the conversation forward or to let it be. “If you ever need to talk about it, you know I’m here.”

  She managed a small smile and said, “Thanks. I’m really trying to move on and live my life, I promise.”

  “Well, then that’s good enough for me, and it’ll be good enough for Sue, too.”

  “I don’t know if it’s good enough for Jace.” God, she was trying. She really was. He was a good man, too. Patient. She just needed a little more time to mend her broken heart.

  “Well, honey, you’re going to have to work that out with him,” Kay replied. “Will I see you for dinner on Saturday?”

  “Of course,” Vivian said, as the smile returned to her tear-streaked face. “As long as you promise me plenty of honey ham and tater salad, you know I’ll be there!”

  She stood and started gathering her things—purse, keys, though, as usual, her cellphone proved elusive. Scooter chose that moment to run into the room at Mach 5 and scream, “Surprise!” After nearly jumping out of her skin, Kay rolled her eyes and offered a warm smile to her youngest.

  “Aunt Vee Vee go bye bye?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I’ll be back, buddy. Okay?” she said, scooping him up in a fit of giggles and kisses.

  “Junior sowy.”

  “Who’s Junior?” Kay asked, opening her arms to accept the bundle of boy.

  “No idea,” Vivian said. “Connor mentioned something about ‘Junior’ taking him to the swings.”

  Kay smiled and put Connor down, sending him off to his room with a warning to play quietly instead of pestering his sisters. “Probably just some cartoon character. He’s got such a big imagination. Is it warm in here to you?”

  Vivian tensed, gaze darting around the room for any hidden guardians. They shouldn’t have followed her here. Ezra always warned her when she’d be needed for a crossing. They never, ever showed up unannounced.

  Don’t you hurt them.

  “Hey, are you okay? You look pale,” Kay said, voice laced with concern. “You should sit down.”

  But she couldn’t sit down. A guardian spirit’s presence could only mean one thing. No, it couldn’t be time for one of the Clemmens family to cross. She refused to accept it.

  Panic seized her. Vivian left Kay and rushed to the girls’ rooms, her barely leashed power ready to strike at any guardian spirit set on claiming one of the children. She half-expected to find one of the girls in the midst of a seizure or choking on a Lego. Instead, she interrupted a
card game and earned an eye-roll from Annabelle.

  Thank God they’re okay.

  That left Connor.

  With Kay hot on her heels, Vivian threw open the door to Connor’s room. He was sprawled on the floor, completely immobile. Sparks flew from Vivian’s fingertips as her heart raced. No, they couldn’t take the boy, this sweet, angelic child whose life had just begun. Kay reached out and grabbed her arm, getting a jolt in the process.

  “Ouch!” she yelped. Then she yanked Vivian out of the room.

  “What’s going on here?” Kay hissed.

  Vivian scrambled for an explanation, panic fading as she noticed the slow rise and fall of Connor’s chest. The little guy was sleeping. “I was worried. I thought I heard something.”

  Kay’s scowl faded, replaced by a nod and gaze filled with understanding. “I get it, especially after the scare you had with Connor. I still get jumpy sometimes and check on them at night to make sure they’re still breathing.”

  “Sorry I almost woke him up,” Vivian said.

  They crept back to the living room and sat down. Kay rubbed her hand and muttered something about how Vivian needed more fabric softener. Shit. She’d almost used her spirit light in front of Kay and the kids. She shuddered to think how much trouble she’d caused, or what the consequences would be if her living friends knew about the hidden world of spirits.

  But a guardian spirit had been there, and it had hidden from her. She needed to find out why. Kay’s voice brought her back from her musings.

  “Hon, are you sure you’re okay?”

  Plastering on what she hoped was a convincing smile, she said, “I’m fine. I promise. I think you’re right. I’m just, you know, a little emotional after…everything.”

  Kay looked suspicious, but nodded and said, “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  Vivian grabbed her in a fierce embrace and said, “You take care. Call me if you need me.”

  Then she bolted out the door. She needed to talk to Ezra.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ezra appeared later that evening, much as he had the first time he’d called on her, strolling from her line of tall trees in the backyard and ambling up the stairs leading to the deck. He looked for all the world as if he’d just fallen off the turnip truck, clad in bib overalls, work boots, and an old John Deere cap, which was most likely how he’d looked while he was alive. He also looked pretty hungry. Unlike the first night, he arrived in time for dinner.

  “Evenin’, Ezra,” Vivian called out from the kitchen. “Why don’t you come on inside and have a seat at the table?”

  She was up to her ears in flour. She could have used biscuits, of course. Canned biscuits worked great for dumplings. But tonight, she’d opted for homemade. Flour, lard, an old wooden rolling pin, and a butter knife for trimming all decorated the countertops surrounding the stove. She’d boiled chicken breasts and thighs in stock, bones in, and the shredded meat sat on a nearby plate, waiting. Now that her stock was at a low and rolling boil, she began the process of dropping dumplings into the pot, one by one. By the third dumpling, she’d registered that Ezra was behind her, no doubt smiling.

  He chuckled. “You ought to add some butter to keep them dumplins from stickin’ to each other and the pot.”

  “Who the hell made you an expert?” she snapped, though she let him drop a dollop of butter in the pot after he’d removed his hat and set it on the counter. “Besides, it’s already a heart attack on a plate with all of the salt and fat. Not that it matters to you.”

  Ezra had been dead for over fifty years.

  “Little gal, I’ll have you know I helped out in the kitchen quite a bit in my day,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I was helpin’ my ma with biscuits and gravy when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, and I still make the best biscuits you ever did eat.”

  “Well, well, well, weren’t you a genuine progressive? Get here early next time and you can put your money where your mouth is, not to mention your stomach,” she said, turning and sizing him up. “Speaking of, you look like you’re getting fatter. How is that even possible?”

  She’d always assumed Ezra’s appearance, like most of the other corporeal spirits she knew, was of his choosing and not subject to changes that would affect mortals. From what Zeke had told her, they were able to “construct” a body from elements in the human realm when they projected. She’d seen him do it. Their corporeal bodies were only shells that encompassed their true essence, which was almost pure energy.

  Still, she couldn’t help but notice that the old coot looked pretty healthy these days, to say the least.

  “Aw, now, you have to understand, Miss Vivian, before I met you I’d been a wandering this old world unseen with nary a bite to eat for years. It’s only natural that I build myself a big old body when I come a-callin’ on you. Consider it a compliment for your good cookin’.”

  “Yeah, you and every other hungry guardian who happens to be in the neighborhood. I swear y’all are eating me out of house and home,” she grumbled.

  “You need more money?” he asked, pulling a wad of cash out of his front chest pocket. “I promised I’d pay regular for regular work. You’ve been a doing a real good job.”

  “No,” she said, maybe a little too quickly. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind a raise, but I need some more time to figure out how to account for the extra cash. I only work part-time now, you know, and I don’t need any trouble with the IRS. The only thing I really need you to do is to tell your dumb little buddies to wait outside the bathroom when they come calling. The lack of privacy is getting pretty old.”

  “I’ll let them know,” he replied, chuckling. “And I got me a few associates that know a thing or two about taxes and such.”

  “I know a thing or two about taxes and finances,” Vivian retorted sardonically. “I am a loan officer, for God’s sake.”

  She wondered where Ezra got all of the money. Worried was more like it. She would have hated to think of herself as a grave robber.

  Ezra scowled at her and puffed out his chest. “I can’t abide by blasphemy. That’s mighty ugly talk coming from a nice young lady like you.”

  “Lay off the father-figure shit. We both know I’m neither young nor a lady.”

  The temperature rose a notch or two, letting her know she should probably stop. She’d only seen Ezra angry a few times, but that was enough. He kept the façade of fumbling old country bumpkin, but he was one of the most powerful guardian spirits around. Still, she didn’t take kindly to being bullied, and she and Ezra still had some bad blood between them.

  “I ain’t your daddy, but I may as well be for all the looking out I do for you and all the trouble you give me,” he growled. “You’re no spring chicken, but you ain’t got one foot in the grave yet.” He narrowed his gaze and added, “Unless you’re ready to move on.”

  She stood very still and stared at him. While she might not like being bullied, Vivian wasn’t fool enough to push him too far. His words were no empty threat. Ezra could, in fact, arrange for her to move on from this side of life if he chose. He didn’t need her permission or cooperation.

  After a bad moment, Ezra sighed and spoke in a gentler tone, “But I don’t think that’s the case. You got a stubborn streak in you that runs clean from your bull head to your big toe. You ain’t ready to give up just yet. As for the rest, I reckon you know how to be a lady when you want to be.”

  Vivian bit her tongue and tried not to scowl. The temperature in the kitchen dropped a bit, as did her anxiety. They were okay again, for the moment.

  Ezra shrugged and said, “Still, I’d be ashamed to hear you talking like that in front of our preacher friend, or your feller. They coming by tonight? You cooked enough to feed an army.”

  She grinned at him. She couldn’t help it. “You’re right. I haven’t given up on life yet, so you can hold off on taking me to the next realm. The padre’s on his way, but not Jace. I still haven’t worked out exactly how to explain you to him. Don’t worry. T
hey’ve both heard me say much worse.”

  He grinned back and said, “It sure is nice to see you smile.” After a moment, his face changed from jolly to serious, and he spoke again. “You’ve not been smiling so much these days. You doing all right?”

  “Aside from worrying about guardian spirits sneaking around my friend’s house, I’m peachy,” she said. “What gives?”

  Ezra frowned. “Don’t know anything about that, and I would know if anyone in the area was scheduled to cross.”

  Vivian wanted to believe him, but he’d lied to her before. Oh, he’d assured her it was for her own good, but it did put a damper on their working relationship with some serious trust issues.

  He cocked his head to the side and studied her. Probably reading her thoughts. Damned guardian spirits. Though it was a skill that probably came in handy when monitoring the world of the living, she didn’t appreciate it when the spirits used it on her—especially since it was one of the skills she didn’t share with them. Maybe she’d have to be dead to get it.

  Hardly worth the price.

  “I’ll look into it, but don’t worry. Your friends aren’t scheduled to cross anytime soon. I’d tell you if they were. Now, what else is bothering you?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” she stated flatly. Then she turned and busied herself by adding shredded chicken to her stock and dumplings, hoping he’d let it go.

  “No, you ain’t,” Ezra said to her back. “You been running yourself ragged. Want to try telling me the truth?”

  Simmering irritation gave way to full-blown anger. Guardian or not, he’d pushed her too far. She didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she moved her stockpot to another burner set on low, dusted her hands on her apron, and worked on stirring the pot of green beans seasoned with salt pork. Having held her peace for more than a few months, she decided it was time to stir the soon-to-be-boiling-over pot between them as well.