“You didn’t. Couldn’t bring myself to do that to the poor old hog.” When Quinn asked what they were, Caleb leaned over and whispered in her ear. “They didn’t eat them?”
“I should hope not. My goodness. Sweetbreads aren’t supposed to be eaten, I don’t think. That is the most...that’s not just gross, it’s disturbing as well.” Mom laughed too as Quinn stomped around the room, still grossed out. “I really thought you were going to tell me they were pig nuts or something. But to hear that it’s the glands in the thymus or pancreas is just so not right.”
“Some people do believe that the sweetbread is just that, the balls of a pig. They’re not, but I still can’t bring myself to eat them. Not glands. No, no, no. Not going to do it.” They were all laughing by then, and Xander looked around the room.
He loved these people. Of course, they were family, but they were more than that to him. They were loving and kind. They watched over each other and kept them safe. He wondered briefly what his own mate, if there was one out there for him, would think of this crew. Probably run to the hills screaming.
“When do you think this will be ready for you to publish? I mean, you’ve been talking to her, haven’t you? That publisher person you’re to work with.” He told Dominic that he had been, and sending her chapters to read over as he went. “Good. I think this will be a hit. But you make sure you ask her if you should say it’s a true story or not.”
“Why?” Dominic told him. “Oh. I can see that I guess. How would I explain where I got my information from? Yes, I’m sure that would go over well. I got it from a dead man who tells me his version of his life every day.” Dominic nodded just as Skyler told them that dinner was ready.
Xander gathered up all the copies of his book and set them aside. While he was stacking them in a neat pile, he had a chill race over him. Standing very still, he looked around the room with just his eyes. When Rayne joined him, he asked if he was alone.
“No. You want to be?” He asked her if he was in danger. “No. No danger, but I’d not antagonize her if you don’t want to be hurt.”
He’d been told that ghosts can hurt you when they are angry enough or strong enough. When she sat down on the floor, he did as well but kept his mouth shut. Rayne was better at this than anyone. She was the Death Watcher.
“My name is Rayne. My mother named me that when—” She stopped talking and waited on whoever it was to finish speaking. “I don’t think so, but I can have someone look— If you keep cutting me off, then neither of us are going to be able to help. Now, let me see what I can find out for you.”
She turned to Wally, her second he supposed was a good title. When he was gone, looking for a person by the name of Clay Albright, she turned to Xander. She asked him if he knew Clay.
“I do. He and Owen went to school together. He was.... I think I remember him being killed by....” He looked to where she was looking and then back to Rayne. “It’s his mother, isn’t it? Mrs. Albright. She killed herself a long time ago. Why is she here now?”
“I don’t know, Xander. All I can do is ask him to come here and talk to her. That’s what she wants. I don’t know why, but we’ll find out. Wally is trying to find him.” He asked her through their link if he was going to bring him here. If he’ll come. The thing that his mother doesn’t know is that Clay has been getting stronger all the time he’s been here by helping others with tasks. Me as well.
She killed Clay by shooting him and his family one day when she was depressed, my mom told us. Her family didn’t have enough money for her to get help. I don’t know a lot about the disease, but I do know that she turned the gun on herself, and that’s the way that Mr. Clayton Albright found them when he returned from work that night. I remember seeing him around town after that. He was the saddest and oldest man I’d ever seen. And he wasn’t any older than my parents. She nodded at him and said that he was here. Should Owen be here too? He was his best friend.
No, not yet. I think we need to sort this out. He nodded and reached for her hand. As soon as they touched, he could see the woman as well as the young boy. Xander had forgotten what he looked like until just then. “Hello, Clay. Thank you for coming.”
“I don’t know why I’m here.” Rayne explained it to him. “I see. After all this time, she’s decided to find me? What does she want?”
Xander knew that they could talk to each other, see each other as well, because they’d been in contact when they’d been living. If they’d not known one another before, Rayne would have to relay messages between the two of them.
“I want him to stop telling people that I killed them all. That’s not fair.” Clay asked her why not, that was what happened. “Yes, but I was sick and being sick, I did some stupid things. The people on this side, they’re not very forgiving, and I’ve been shunned by most of them. I have nothing to do or no one to talk to either.”
“And how is that my problem? You cut my life short because you needed help and never asked for it. I know that money was tight; heck, Ma, everything was. But you killed my baby sister and the rest of us. You should have let us go with Mrs. Winchester. I know for a fact that she was willing to take us.”
“You weren’t her children. You were mine to do with as I pleased.” Clay asked if she thought killing them was on that list of what pleased her. “I was sick, Clay. I just want you to forgive me.”
“No. If there is nothing else, I’m going back to where I was.” Mrs. Albright tried to stop him by reaching out to her son. Since she was so angry, as was her son, the touch threw them both apart. Mrs. Albright got up and ran at her son again. But it wasn’t going to work—she was in the wrong.
Before she could touch him, to do to him whatever the dead can do to each other, Rayne stood up while still holding Xander’s hand. She put up her hand and told her to stop this minute. Xander watched little Clay. The kid was broken, he thought; his mother had done that.
“You have to make him stop this. I have nothing to do all day.” Rayne asked how that was Clay’s fault. “I wasn’t going to let them go on using other people to make me look bad. Even the kids, they were against me. Your brother included.”
He remembered when they were younger, Owen asking them all if they thought that she’d killed her kids because he’d paid for the ticket for them to go on some school outing. Xander didn’t remember all the details about it, only that Owen had decided for the rest of his days, he was never going to have paintings in his house again. No color at all. He’d been correct, apparently.
“So, you murdered your children and yourself because someone that was nice to them and helped you out by making it so Clay could go on a trip.” Mrs. Albright nodded, her eyes gleaming with madness even in death. Rayne looked at him, then back at her. “You were given ample time to turn your children over to someone else. Even Mr. Albright offered to work a second and third job so that you could have someone with you all the time. Mrs. Winchester, she said that the kids could stay with them until you were better. But you didn’t do that. As far as I’m concerned, you did just what they all said. Murdered your family for no reason whatsoever.”
“Lies.” Xander stood up when Mrs. Albright did. “You take that back right now. I want him to forgive me, and you’re going to make him.”
“You’ve left me no choice in this. You will—”
Clay stopped Rayne from speaking the rest of the words to banish her. Instead, he stood in front of her and looked where his mother was standing. He wondered what was going on when Clay turned away, the back of his head visible to anyone in the room now. Including, apparently, his mom.
“You did this to me. I was ten years old and you murdered me—murdered all of us—because you were too sick in the head and selfish to ask someone, anyone for help. And even when it was offered, you turned it down. Why? Why should I forgive you when you don’t deserve it?” She told him he had to, she was his mother. “My mother? A mother would never do this to her children. Not ever.”
Rayne banished her. They all
knew that she’d be trouble for them all and not let things go until someone was hurt. So, in order to keep peace among the dead, she turned her away so that it would be better for a great many people.
Clay turned to her after she was gone. “Do you think I could see Owen? I know that it’s against the rules and all, but he was my bestest friend in the whole word back then. And I’d like it, too, if you didn’t tell him what my mom just said.” They both agreed that they’d not do that. “Thank you. I just want to see him.”
Rayne sent Xander to get Owen. As soon as their fingers were no longer touching, he couldn’t see the young boy anymore. Xander had been surprised by that, Clay still being a young kid, but he hadn’t really thought of it, so he supposed that it was about right. Going into the dining room, he told his brother that Rayne needed him. As soon as he was gone, Xander told them what was going on.
Rayne came in a few minutes later. Xander knew that it had taken a great deal out of her to send someone away. On top of the fact that she’d made it so he could hear and see the spirits in Owen’s home too. When she sent Clare to be with Owen, Rayne told them that Owen was going to introduce his wife to his friend.
“They’re talking. When I left, Owen was telling him that he was so sorry, and Clay was asking him for what. They’ll talk, then they’ll all feel much better.” He bet they would too. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to have myself some juice. And I’m starving. How about we eat, then they’ll join us when they can?”
“Excellent idea, my dear.” Dad picked up the bowl full of baked potatoes and took one of them. “I tell you what, having all this going on, it makes me wonder why good old Mr. Cartwright doesn’t come on by and have a meal or two with us.”
“He’s moved on.” Dad stopped talking and the bowl was frozen in place while Gabe continued. “His wife, she was there waiting for him when he left this world. And he’d made his peace too. I looked for them—well, I had April look for them. And she told me how happy he’d been when he saw her, and was telling her all about us and how we’d been right there for him when he was down. April had known his missus too.”
“Well, I guess that’s a good thing then.” Dad passed the bowl along and looked at the table of his family. “I don’t want to know if my momma or daddy come around. I just don’t know what I’d tell them if they did.”
“All right. If they come around, Dad, I’ll not tell you.” Dad nodded and looked at Mom when Gabe passed the warm bread to him. “I’ve seen things that you cannot un-see in this, but I’m glad to be able to help who I can when I can. On both planes. Being a doctor and as assistant to the Death Watcher.”
Yeah, Xander thought, he didn’t want to know anything other than the stories that he was being told. He thought he might like that better than having anything to do with all the people that his brother and sister-in-law had to deal with.
~~~
Owen took them all to the pool house. After explaining what he and Clare were doing and what they were planning to do, they wanted to see some of the treasures. Taking them to the basement had its difficulties too. The room wasn’t all that large and they were, and there was no air down there, he thought. Instead of wasting his breath telling them that, he watched each of them walk around the open and sometimes empty trunks.
“This here money, you have much more of it yet to get?” He told his dad that he didn’t know. There were still two that they’d not brought in yet, and the one that was still missing. “Caleb, you and Tyler go with your brother and help him bring those last two in. We’ll see what you got then.”
Caleb was silent for the trip to the shed. But Tyler couldn’t shut up. He was going a mile a minute about how the cups were going to be bringing Owen more, and that he envied him having so much fun. When asked why he wasn’t having fun, Tyler laughed.
“I guess I’m having fun with the houses. But the problem I’m having, I don’t speak most of the languages, nor do I have much to say about how the households are being run. For the most part, I’m enjoying the vacationing part of this, but I don’t know what I’m to do with fifteen homes.” Owen laughed too. “The good news is, the Cartwright home is ready for me to move into now, and the repairs have been made. Even the second story, the one that had been closed off for so long, is about done too. I haven’t see the house look that good ever.”
“He knew you so well.” Tyler agreed. When the last two trunks were located, Owen asked Caleb what was wrong. All he said was he’d tell him later. “No, you’ll tell me now. Are you pissed off about this?”
“Pissed off? About what? No, I’m not mad. I’m jealous.” He asked him why. “Because I have all my things set up for me. The building was mine, the equipment came in as soon as I opened the doors. And I had my first client as soon as I left the other company. You’re going on these grand adventures with the cups and watches. The money is there for you to make your own, and I’m finished. Other than my work, which I love, I’m set up. You’re still moving forward.”
“Okay, that is not what I expected to hear from you.” Caleb started to move away but Owen stopped him. “You know what? You should help Clare with the art studio. I’m so serious here that I could almost kiss your feet for doing it. I know nothing about art, supplies that might be needed, nor the things to do to get it set up.”
“I don’t either.” He pointed out that he had his place all set up. “Yes, but without all of you helping me, I’d still be sitting in a room with boxes and equipment that I had to learn how to use.”
“But you see, Caleb, you did learn it. You know who to call to get things going. You have an entire pack at your back to get things organized. Fundraisers started and going, which I’m told we’ll have to do because of the money. Also, and this is a big one, Clare needs you.” He asked him why. “She’s terrified that you don’t like her as much as the rest of them because she’s just a lowly—her words, not mine—a lowly human. I had to really work hard at not laughing at her when she said that to me.”
“Yes, she might have strangled you. And I don’t hate her. I don’t really think of her any differently than I do Rayne. I’m afraid of them both.” He laughed a little. “All right. But you have to pay me to do this. Not because I need—”
“I’ll pay you whatever you want. And I do understand. I have to account for all the money. And I have to pay Clare too. She’s planning on donating her check to the cause.” Caleb growled. “What is it now?”
“I haven’t had an idea that I could call my own since the women here started to join us. You’d think, just one time, I could say something profound and no one would have beat me to it. Damn it all to hell. Just one time, I’d love that to happen, Owen. Just once.”
They were still laughing when they entered the basement with the others. The trunk that Tyler had brought in was already open, and Clare was tagging things. It was going to be fun, he thought, having the family help with this.
Snacks and drinks were brought to them about an hour into their sorting. Clare was having a blast ordering his family around, telling them where to put things. Owen knew that she wasn’t really ordering them around so much as sternly guiding them. He was having a good time too.
“Okay then. We have fifty-three more watches. There are several more boxes of paints and charcoal, as well as chalk. We have no more tea cups to add to the ones you have in the house but this one.” Dominic handed it to his mom. “I talked it over with Clare and Owen, and they want you to have this one. It must have meant a great deal to Birdie to have separated it from the rest.”
“If you say one word about paying me, I’m going to never let you babysit.” That shut his mom up and she looked at him. Clare was on her own here, Owen thought. “Now, say thank you children, I love the gift.”
“Thank you, children, I love the gift. But I’m not happy about this. The money could go a long way in feeding so many children.” Owen pointed to the stacks of money by the wall. “Yes, well, you know what I mean.”
“I
do. And we love you for it.”
Caleb had already told them that he was going to be working with Clare on the art project. Everyone thought it was a great idea, and each of them volunteered something to the auction they were planning. Owen hugged his dad when he told him that one of the businesses that he and Mom owned would donate kiddy nap things. He was pretty sure they had a name, but that’s what Dad had been calling them since the start.
“I think that we should also get something going for the other projects that we talked about. The revaluation of downtown will need something. And I love the idea about getting Christmas decorations for Main Street to use.” Quinn smiled at him. “Thank you for our first donation for that, Owen and Clare. As soon as I get home, I’m going to start looking for items we can use.”
They had also talked about having a soup kitchen opened up by Thanksgiving. Skyler said he knew a few men that could help with that as well. Then there was the daycare that was going in next to the retirement home. And the loans they were going to secure for people to buy their first homes.
“When we get this set up, I think we should include the banker in on this. He might not be too thrilled if we take away his business and all.” Dad had a point, and Owen would talk to him about it. “How about we don’t do house loans, but we put together packages that them their starter boots can do? You know what I mean, don’t you, honey?”
Mom just shook her head, all of them in the dark about what Dad was talking about. “You mean the boot strappers. I swear, Kelley, there are times I just don’t know where your head is. Yes, I think he has a good idea, even if it’s called the wrong thing.”
Clare was making a list of the projects and who had volunteered to work them out. Caleb told Clare that he was very impressed with her skills at organization, and wondered if she’d come and help him with his own office. Owen had been to his brother’s office. And while it was neat at first glance, it really was a mess of smaller boxes or crates with things in them. Like broken pencils he knew that Caleb had had since he’d been in grade school. Or at least pretty close to it.
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