Death's Temporary Home For Lost Souls

Chapter Nineteen: Very Grateful Dead

    We enter the kitchen, where Death leans against the counter, quietly humming as he uses tongs to set the bacon onto a paper towel. His Mickey Mouse t-shirt presses tight against his skin so that every shift in the powerful muscles across his back is visible.

    I could get used to that, too.

    "Good morning!" Lisa shouts, alerting him to our presence. And that returning smile does things to my insides that I'd rather not admit to. I glance at his idle fingers, imagining them trailing over my bare skin. He must be remembering the same thing, because his gaze slides over to me and that grin almost turns wicked – before he remembers that I'm not alone.

    "Good morning, love," he says enthusiastically, bending before Lisa and pressing a kiss to her blonde curls. "Sleep well?"

    "Yep!" When Lisa plops down into her designated seat around the table, Death turns to me. I immediately burn beneath his stare.

    "And what about you?" He says, quieter. Something that I can't place gleams in his eyes. "How was your night?"

    "Good," I reply, already breathless and certain that he's tip-toeing around another question. Neither of us quite wants to acknowledge the thing growing between us, but the air is thick with it. Before either of us can say anything more, the rest of the resident souls pour into the kitchen like clockwork – except for Louis, of course. I immediately avert my gaze from Death to where Sarah struts towards her spot at the table. When she looks at me, there isn't a scowl on her face. A good start.

    "So when is the wi-fi getting set up?" She immediately asks. She raises her hand, nodding towards the toaster, and Death tosses her a slice of buttered toast. Paul scowls, ducking so that it doesn't knock the bowler hat off of his head. This morning, he buries his nose in a legal pad instead of his usual newspaper.

    "What are you talking about?" Death asks, his forehead scrunching.

    "Oh, yeah. I bought some stuff from..." Gary's name sticks in my throat and I clear it. "From a store in town. I even got an e-reader for Louis."

"Forget Louis," Sarah says, her eyes glowing. "I need me some YouTube."

My head swivels to her. "You know what YouTube is?"

Sarah scoffs. "How old do you think I am? I'm not a dinosaur like the rest of them."

"I'm not a dinosaur!" Lisa protests. I choke on a laugh.

"You're going to have to explain all this to me," Death mutters, shaking his head as he hands out plates to everyone around the table. I take one from him but remain standing. "Sarah's tried a million times already."

"It would be my honor to catch you up on the outside world," I respond, a playful note in my voice. He smiles at me gratefully, and I start to do it all over again: imagine a future here. With him. I imagine him as a normal man, roping his arms around my neck and tugging me close as I tease him about his flavorless cooking. I imagine playing a record, something old, and dancing in the dark. I imagine his lips on mine, our bodies flush together.

Stop, I scold myself, so angrily that I find myself off-balance. Death's grin falters as I turn away and sit beside Lisa. There are a million reasons why I can't let myself dream of the future. That's why I'm here in the first place, why I gave up everything I cared about in life: my studies, my lover, my best friend.

But that's the funny thing about Death's home and the spirits under his charge. As we sit around the table and all take turns trying to explain to Death what wi-fi is, they make me feel like I could have a future here in Neverton.