“I’m sorry,” I said again.
He leaned over two cats and kissed me. “Me, too.”
The phone on the nightstand rang, and I didn’t want to answer it. I wanted to stay all day here in bed with Dylan and the cats. I didn’t want to deal with anything other than telling him how much he meant to me.
But then I recalled what day it was.
November second.
All Souls’ Day.
I had sixteen-ish hours to help Jenny Jane and Haywood cross over. I had to set my needs aside for them.
Rolling, I grabbed the cordless. It was Delia.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Give me ten minutes.”
Dylan shook his head and slipped his hand under my shirt.
“Twenty minutes,” I amended.
Smiling, he shook his head again.
Hoo boy, that smile.
“A half hour,” I said. “Give me a half hour. I, ah, need to shower.”
Dylan’s eyes lit and he nodded enthusiastically.
Laughing, she said, “I’ll give you a whole hour. And tell Dylan I said hi.”
? ? ?
Forty-five minutes later, I’d taken a pleasantly long shower with Dylan, dressed, cleaned the kitty litter box, and checked online sources for any news of a cruise ship disaster, found none, and wondered how my aunt Marjie and Johnny Braxton had managed not to cause an incident on international waters.
It was a small miracle.
I’d tried to get Louella to eat, but she only growled and nipped at me, and she had zero interest in any of the toys I’d bought for her the day before.
Roly and Poly had quickly appropriated her doggy bed for themselves, and Louella couldn’t have cared less. She lay listlessly on the area rug in the living room, her head on her paws.
She was mourning, and I didn’t know what to do about it, other than to give her time to process losing Virgil all over again.
I let her be.
Dylan had gone off to fetch some scones and coffee from Dèjá Brew, and I hoped he hurried back, as Delia would be here in fifteen minutes, and I was in desperate need of a caffeine fix.
The phone rang while I was tidying the kitchen. My mama.
“Baby girl,” she said breathlessly, “I was at Dèjá Brew this morning and heard from three people—three!—that you were seen talking to yourself on street corners, and that you were crying on the floor of To Have and to Cuddle in the company of some mangy-looking dog. Crying! You rarely cry. Is this about them ghosts? Do I need to kick some ghostly booty? I will. I’ll do it. Just watch me.”
Glancing at the kitchen table, I had a flashback to the night before and it was easy to recall the scornful look that had been in Patricia’s eyes. I shuddered and thanked my lucky stars for the crazy mama I had. “I love you, Mama.”
“Sweet Jesus!” she exclaimed. “Are you dying? Did that smoke inhalation cause more damage than the doctor let on? I need to sit down. Hold on.” A second later she said, “Okay, I’m sitting, but now I’m not breathing real well on account of my shapewear being a size too small. So tell me quick. Have you seen a doctor? I thought your daddy said that potion he made up worked on you just fine.” Her voice rose. “Hell’s bells, what good is your magic if you can’t use it on yourself?”
“Mama, breathe.”
“I can’t. Damn tummy cincher! I should have known not to buy it from one of those infomercials.”
“Mama!” I laughed. “I’m fine. Daddy’s potion healed me right up. I’m having a bit of a rough time emotionally with the ghost thing, but I’m dealing with it. I said I loved you because I had dinner with Patricia last night, and it reminded me of how lucky I was to have you and I wanted to let you know. I can’t imagine a better mama out there. That’s all.”
She sniffled. “Well, if Patricia is your standard, then I’m a peach compared to her. A peach, I tell you.”
“Compared to anyone,” I said.
She sniffled again. “Now I can’t breathe and my mascara’s running. I’m a hot mess and I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”
“Then you’d better go.”
Through the window, I saw Dylan pull into the driveway and watched him as he hopped out of his truck carrying a white bag and a cardboard drink tray with three cups stuck into it. The sun hit his face just so, highlighting his strong jawline and the darkness under his eyes.
My heart bumped around in my chest.
This stuff with his mama wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, but as I still didn’t know what I could do about it other than do the same as I was doing with Louella.
Let him be.
He had to work through this on his own, and all I could do was be there to support him.
“I’d better,” Mama agreed.