My jaw dropped. “But . . . how?”
“Her original death was around the same time as mine. She had just gotten married. And her husband lived. So when she animated, she went back to him, and has lived with him ever since.”
“But he must be . . .”
“He’s in his eighties.” Vincent finished my thought.
My mind tried to wrap itself around the thought of the beautiful blond woman married to a man old enough to be her great-grandfather. I couldn’t imagine what her life must be like.
“They’re still madly in love, but it’s been a hard life,” Vincent continued. “She wasn’t able to control her urges to die, and her husband encouraged her to follow the fate she was dealt as a revenant. He’s proud of her, and she dotes on him. But soon enough it’ll be his turn to die, and she’ll be alone. It is one option, but not one that I would ever ask someone else to endure.”
Vincent leaned forward and took my hands in his. They were warm and strong, and his touch sent a rush of excitement coursing through my body that lodged in my heart. “Kate,” he said, “I can stay away from you. It would be a miserable existence, but I could do it if I knew you were happy.
“But if you want to be with me, too, I can offer you this solution: I will resist dying for as long as I am with you. I’ve talked to Jean-Baptiste, and we’ll figure out a way for me to handle it. I won’t put you through the repeated trauma of living through my deaths. I can’t do anything about the fact that you will be without my physical presence for three days a month. But I can control the rest. And I will. If you decide to give me the chance.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
WELL? WHAT COULD I SAY?
I said, “Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
WE SAT ON THE FLOOR CUDDLED UP NEXT TO each other, facing the fire. “Are you hungry?” Vincent asked.
“Actually, I am,” I confessed, surprising myself. I hadn’t had much of an appetite for about . . . three weeks.
While he went to the kitchen, I phoned my grandmother. “Mamie, would you mind if I skipped dinner? I’m going to eat out.”
“From the tone of your voice, would I be correct in guessing that this is about a certain boy?”
“Yes, I’m at Vincent’s house.”
“Well, good for you. I hope you can clear this all up and join us again in the land of the living.” I flinched. If only she knew.
“We have a lot to talk about,” I said. “I might be out late.”
“Don’t worry, darling Katya. But remember you have school tomorrow.”
“No problem, Mamie.”
My grandmother paused for so long that I wondered if she had hung up. “Mamie?” I asked after a few seconds.
“Katya,” she said slowly, as if pondering something. Then, in a decisive voice, she continued, “Darling, forget what I just said. I think it’s better to get things sorted out than to try to be sensible about getting a good night’s sleep. Does Vincent live with his parents?”
“With his family.”
“That’s good. Well, if you decide to spend the night, give me a call so I won’t worry.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“If it means having to take a sick day, then that’s fine. You have my permission to stay at his family’s house . . . in your own bed, of course.”
“Nothing’s going to happen between us!” I began to protest.
“I know.” I could hear her smile through the headset. “You’re almost seventeen, but you are older than that in your head. I trust you, Kate. Just take care of things and don’t worry about coming home for me.”
“That’s very . . . progressive of you, Mamie,” I said, paralyzed with amazement.
“I like to think I’m up with the times,” she joked, and then said ardently, “Live, Katya. Be happy. Take risks. Have fun.” And she hung up the phone.
My grandmother just gave me permission to have a sleepover with my boyfriend. That takes the cake for weirdness-of-the-day, I decided. Even more than Vincent’s pledge not to die for me.
He returned with a huge tray of food. “Jeanne comes through for us once again,” Vincent said, laying the tray down on the table. It was piled with thinly sliced charcuterie, saucissons, cheeses, baguettes, and five or six different kinds of olives. There was bottled water, juice, and a pot of tea. Exotic fruits were piled in a bowl, and tiny macaroons in different colors were stacked in a pyramid on a high-stemmed cake plate.
I popped a tiny ball of fresh goat cheese into my mouth and chased it with a sliver of oil-drenched sun-dried tomato. “I feel spoiled,” I said dreamily, leaning my head on Vincent’s shoulder. It felt so good to touch him after three weeks with only my pillow to hug.
“Good. That’s exactly what I want you to feel. The only way I can compensate for this extraordinary situation is to make it up to you in an extraordinary way.”
“Vincent, it’s amazing just being here with you. I don’t need anything else.”