by Gina Ardito
“I take it Shauna’s out then, too?”
“Absolutely. I want her to be her own person, not a namesake who feels the need to take on characteristics that aren’t in her nature. She’s a very special little girl. Unique. And she needs a unique name.”
“Uh-huh. Unique,” Justin remarked dryly and poked an index finger on the infant’s nose. “You hear that, little one? Your mama’s already got a bad case of ‘my baby’s better than your baby.’”
With good reason. Based on conception alone, her baby was more unique than anyone else in the world could imagine. She bit her tongue to keep from sticking it out at Justin. “Don’t be ridiculous. The perfect name takes time. Part of it was waiting for her to be born. I mean, I’d hate to have my heart set on a certain name and then, after seeing her for the first time, realize the name totally doesn’t fit what she looks like.”
“You’ve got a skyscraper of baby books in your room at home that you’ve been studying for the last ten weeks, and the best you’ve come up with are the three or four names you don’t want?” Justin’s voice rose, startling the infant who began to fuss in his arms.
“I was hoping the right one would come to me in a dream.” She held out her hands. “Give me my baby. She obviously doesn’t appreciate your sarcasm.”
“I think she’s upset because she’s afraid she’s going to go through life as Baby Girl Fichetti—”
“Martino,” she corrected. “Her last name is Martino.” The baby bawled louder, her face scrunched up and reddening. “Give her to me, please. She’s probably hungry.”
“Can I feed her? Please?” Tony the Zombie finally returned to life.
She exchanged an amused glance with Justin, who nodded. “Sure. Justin, there are sample bottles of formula on the shelf there.” She pointed to the lower level of the clear crib the hospital staff used to transport the newborn from the nursery to her room and back. “Prepackaged nipples are there, too. Just remove the cardboard back from the nipple, uncap a bottle, and screw the nipple on while it’s still sheathed in the plastic. This way, your hands never touch the part going into the baby’s mouth.”
Under Isabelle’s watchful eyes, he transferred the newborn to Tony then followed her instructions. The second Tony popped the nipple near her mouth, Baby Girl Martino quieted and focused all her energy on sucking the contents dry.
“Look at her go. She’s got her mother’s appetite.” Justin flashed Isabelle a thumbs-up as he leaned against the windowsill.
She might have come up with a clever retort, but exhaustion claimed her, and she yawned instead.
“Get some sleep, Belle,” Justin crooned. “Your daughter’s in excellent hands.”
She nodded. “I will. I just wanna watch for a while.”
Her heavy lids fell, and she gave in to the aftereffects of fourteen hours’ hard labor. She slept.
~~~~
Xavia waited until after visiting hours ended, when the hospital was dark and quiet, to invade Isabelle’s dream. “Congratulations, Isabelle.”
This time, she’d brought them to an authentic tea house. Authentic, as in… Japan? The building’s architecture was definitely Japanese: winged edges to the tiled roof, delicate lanterns hanging from the ceiling, paper and bamboo screens serving as walls. Adding to Isabelle’s suspicions regarding their whereabouts, Xavia wore a canary yellow kimono with elaborate embroidered black and white cranes and a black obi sash. Instead of the cotton pajamas she’d worn in her hospital bed, Isabelle was garbed in a scarlet kimono decorated with silver dragonflies. They sat cross-legged on bamboo mats beneath an awning. Outside, giant goldfish swam in the koi pond. Pink cherry blossoms on a regimented line of trees dotted the azure sky. Off in the distance, the twangy sounds of a stringed instrument added the perfect regional music to this dream world.
“Xavia? How did you...? Are we in...?”
“One of the perks of being dead,” she replied, nudging an elbow into Isabelle’s ribs. “I like to visit places I never could have afforded when I was alive. And I’d imagine at this stage, you’re tired of beds and the interiors of hospitals. Okinawa seemed like a nice change of pace for both of us.”
“It’s a beautiful surprise. Thank you.”
“Speaking of beautiful surprises, I popped in to see your daughter. What a little doll! She looks like a perfect combination of both her parents. His pretty blue eyes, your sweet features.”
“You saw her? Did Sean see her?”
Shaking her head, she sighed. “He can’t. But I told him about her.”
“What’d he say?”
“He’s a man. Words aren’t his strong suit. And since I’m technically his boss, he isn’t going to go all ga-ga in front of me. It’s not dignified.” She looked up at the sky, inhaled a deep breath, exhaled with a pleased sigh. “But I know he’s thrilled.”
“You do? How?”
“Because I know a proud daddy when I see one. He’s got this goofy look on his face, like he dug the Grand Canyon all by himself with nuthin’ but a teaspoon. Like he did all the work, and you were just the bystander. But we know better, don’t we?” She winked. “Your little girl got a name?”
“Not yet. I was...” She stared into the koi pond, watching the giant orange fish splash the water into ripples. “I wanted to ask Sean if he had an opinion.”
“I’ll ask him. Got any names in mind?”
A cramp seared her thigh, and she uncurled her legs to rub at the sore area. “Ava. Ava Rose. Or Lily. Lily Elizabeth.”
“Both are pretty. Got a thing for flowers, huh? Lily and Rose?”
“They’ve always been my favorites. And delphiniums, but that’s too big a mouthful for a kid to learn.”
Xavia smiled, tilted her head toward the sky, and nodded. “Ava Rose. He said he likes Ava Rose.”
“Are you talking to him now?”
“Yes. He’s in my office with me.”
“Can he see me?” Her gaze followed the same direction, scanning for some sign that he was around.
“No. That door is closed to you both. I’m the only way you can communicate with each other. Think of me as your interpreter.” She paused, as if listening to some other conversation, then snorted in amusement.
“What?” Isabelle pressed. “What’d he say?”
“Nothing. He’s being a smartass. More importantly, how are you feeling?”
“Like Greyhound opened a bus station in my uterus.”
Xavia cackled. “I hear ya. I was in labor for thirty-three hours with my son before they opted to do a C-section. By then, I didn’t care if they sent in a SWAT team to get him out. How’s the tumor? Giving you trouble?”
“A little. Dr. Regalbuto’s monitoring its growth pattern. It hasn’t spread anywhere else in my body, though, so that’s a good thing.” She traced a knothole in the wooden floor beneath her. “Still, it’s just a matter of time now.”
“Has he given you any idea?”
“Definitely within two years. How soon within two years is anybody’s guess.”
“You still getting the headaches? And the memory lapses?”
A lump rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “Uh-huh. And both are getting progressively worse. But at least now, I’ll be able to take painkillers and stuff to stave off the more severe symptoms for a while.” She leveled a steady gaze at Xavia. “I’m not scared, you know. Everyone’s promising me that when the time comes, they’ll make me as comfortable as possible.” Her stomach flip-flopped. When the time comes. In other words, when she died. While she managed to sound completely at ease with her prognosis for her audience, inside, she was screaming at the unfairness of it all.
“That’s good to hear.” Xavia rose, dusted off her rump with the palm of her hand. “I guess it’s time for us to say goodbye, then. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Isabelle. I wish you luck on the rest of your journey through the universe.”
She struggled to her feet from her awkward position on the mat. The dream might have
brought her a world away and clothed her in silk, but she still had her post-pregnancy belly to contend with. “Wait. You won’t be coming to see me anymore?”
“There’s no reason. You’re no longer a threat to yourself. Your future is securely on its path. Sean and I are done here.” She clucked her tongue like a mother hen. “Don’t look so frightened. You’re prepared for what’s to come and you’re going to be fine! You don’t need us.”
Oh, God, that was so not true! She was a frickin’ mess. Just a really good actress. Couldn’t Xavia tell?
Maybe not. Xavia didn’t know her that well. But Sean did. Sean would understand. She had to talk to Sean. Tell him not to let her go. Not yet.
“But, I don’t want to say goodbye. What if I want to talk to Sean about…” She prodded her brain to think of something—some reason that might warrant a conversation. “…about Ava?”
“You’ll have to rely on yourself, Justin, and Tony now.”
“But that’s not fair! I have stuff I want to tell him. I didn’t get the chance to say—” She cut herself off before the words could leave her lips.
“What did you want to say?” Xavia folded her arms over her chest. “This is your last chance, doll. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
No. She wouldn’t tell Sean she loved him through an interpreter. That was too weird. Even for them. Besides, it was unfair to burden him with those words when realms separated them. After all, it wasn’t like if she said the words, “I love you,” he’d magically become a mortal man again. No. She’d simply have to let him go, console herself with their child—a living reminder of the love she’d had in her life for a brief time.
“Just tell him I said thank you,” she said on a sigh heavy with defeat. “And that I’ll never forget him.”
Chapter 24
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Sean demanded when the screen went blank.
“Why would I?” Xavia turned away from the board and glared across her desk at Sean. “What the hell good would it do her to hear that?”
Yeah. She had a point. “I know it’s crazy.”
“Crazy? Oh, honey, you’ve blown past the crazy ramp. You’re now speeding toward the exit for out of your ever-loving mind.”
“I know.” He paced the office, each footstep a thud that replaced the rhythm of his non-existent heart. “You could’ve given her hope, though.”
“Why? Because you plan to coerce the Board into giving you what you want? What if you fail? What if they decide to punish you for your arrogance? Better she prepare for the worst case scenario, because chances are, that’s what’s gonna happen.” She let out an exasperated breath. “I know you won’t listen, but I’m gonna say it anyway. Nice and slow, so maybe this time, it might get sucked into your brain. Let. Her. Go.”
“I can’t.”
Her energy whipped into a frenzy, and her hands twitched like a madwoman’s. To hide her jumpiness, she yanked open the top drawer of her desk and busied herself with the invisible contents. All the while, her brain continued to consider the repercussions, and she couldn’t stem the tide of words that poured from her lips. “They’ll destroy you. Is that what you want? To become like your old friends? ‘Pink glitter scattered all over the Chasm?’”
He planted his fists on his hips. “If it means Belle gets to stay with Ava until she’s grown, then…yeah. I’ll let them destroy me.”
Her mind rebelled against his words, and she shook her head. “Why? Why would you even consider such a thing?”
He leaned across the desk until his face was inches from hers. “Because that’s what someone does for the woman he loves!” After his shout, he sank into the chair, his face pale. “Her happiness means more to me than my misery. I love her. It’s that simple. I’ll do whatever they ask if it means she’ll stay safe.”
“Oh, come on,” she scoffed. “You don’t really love her. You’re confusing your professional relationship with love. It happens sometimes. Like when a doctor falls for his patient.”
His lips twisted in a grimace. “I’m not an idiot, Xavia.”
“I’m not saying that you are.” Preferring not to rile him up, she kept her tone deceptively bland. “But let’s face it. You can’t possibly be in love. You’re dead.”
A soft glimmer lit up his eyes, and he shook his head. “Dead has nothing to do with love. Love goes on beyond death. I’ve even seen it here before. Because that’s what Luc and Jodie had. They were soul mates. Not just love, but a deep, abiding connection that spanned lifetimes and realms. They spontaneously combusted rather than be apart. I’m in love with Isabelle. It’s why I could communicate with her when she was awake, why she always sensed when I was watching her. Why I was able to father a child with her. We’re bound together. And it’s why I’ll risk total annihilation to keep her safe and happy.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.”
Before she could continue the argument, he rose and strode away, toward what she suspected would be his miserable end. Her entire body trembling, she buried her face in her hands and willed the tears to remain in check. How had this happened? How had she just lost her best friend? When had Sean become her best friend? She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but now, fearing she might lose him forever, her gut churned at the knowledge she’d never told him how much he meant to her.
“Knock! Knock!”
Her head shot up, and a half-smile perked up her cheeks as Noah—Contel—walked into her office. “Contel. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you—”
He waved her off. “It’s cool.” His grin was broad, his eyes full of mischief. “I’m in between hunts and antsy with pent-up energy. I thought I might persuade you or Sean to come join me in some orb ball.”
“Sean’s not here, but I’ll go.” She rose from the chair. “I could use the distraction right now.” And the company of the one person who might help her heal her heartbreak should she get distressing news about Sean.
She got as far as the door when her board buzzed. Crap on a cracker, now what? She held up a finger at Contel. “Give me one sec.”
While her former son stood in the doorway, waiting, she hit the clipboard, bringing the images to life. Of its own accord, her screen split in two. On the left, Sean cooled his heels outside the auditorium, talking to Sherman. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but sensed Sean’s agitation in his shuffling feet. On the right, a smiling Isabelle buckled her baby into a car seat.
Dread slammed Xavia full-force, and she fell back into her chair. “Oh, God. No. Not now.”
“Xavia?” Contel’s concerned prompt seemed to come from some far-off tunnel. “What’s wrong?”
The world around her faded, her focus riveted to the events unfolding on her screen. Isabelle slid behind the wheel and drove onto a busy highway, singing a nursery rhyme to the beautiful pink and blond angel in the back seat. When the doting mom’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror to catch her daughter’s gurgle, the tractor trailer ran the stoplight. On a screech of metal and the crash of glass, the truck driver plowed head-on into the front end of the coupe. Screams filled Xavia’s ears, along with the heartbreaking wails of an infant.
At the exact same moment, on the other side of her screen, Sherman opened the auditorium doors and ushered Sean inside.
“No!” she shouted at the image of his retreating figure. “Sean, don’t!”
The screen went blank.
Xavia looked up at Contel, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Sean’s in trouble. I’m going to the auditorium.”
He jerked his shorn head, shrugged his agreement. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
~~~~
Sean nodded a greeting to Contel as he passed the kid outside Xavia’s office. At least, he’d managed to bring those two together. So if the Elders took him up on his offer, he could console himself with the idea that he’d managed to ease the heartache of several souls while he’d served his time here. Xav
ia and Contel would be okay. And if all went according to plan, so would Isabelle and Ava Rose. Ava Rose. His daughter. His little girl. A little girl who deserved to keep her mother, no matter the cost to him.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d phrase his argument, but he knew they’d consider his offer this time. It wasn’t often a soul was willing to subject himself to the living hell of the Chasm to gain his heart’s desire. But if that’s what they wanted from him, so be it. He’d oblige.
As usual, Sherman met him outside the double doors with a broad grin on his wizened face. “You’re a lucky bastard. In all the time I’ve been here, no one’s ever received a favor from the Board.” He nudged Sean with an elbow jab. “Bet I know what you’re gonna ask for.”
“Bet you don’t.”
“Oh, come on. There isn’t a soul here who doesn’t want to move forward. If you’re planning to ask for anything else, you’re wasting a once-in-eternity opportunity.”
“It’s mine to waste, isn’t it?” He had no intention of sharing his intentions with Sherman—or anyone else who might try to talk him out of it. Xavia’s lecture still echoed in his head.
Sherman held up his dainty hands in a gesture of surrender. “I guess so.” He opened the doors. “Go on in.”
Inside the auditorium, his senses took a nosedive into a pool of confusion. In all the times he’d entered this space—and his visits had to number in the thousands by now—he’d grown accustomed to the lonely walk down the aisle, the empty seats, the dais with the twelve Elders lined up at their table, waiting like a silent jury. This time, the seats were filled with beautifully dressed people who sat, transfixed at some film being shown on an enormous screen set up on the dais where the Council of Elders normally waited. Since when did the Afterlife host a “movie night?”
The Elders, seated in the front row, rose as he approached, and each slid over one chair to the right to make room for him.
“What’s going on?” he asked under his breath.
“They’re here for you,” she replied, her face aglow with pride. “And for her.” She pointed at the screen where, a split second ago, he’d noticed nothing unusual.