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CHAPTER ELEVEN

“How long was I out? And what time is it?” I asked as I came to with a start on the couch, surrounded by my family and friends. Shitty Ritchie, who was a friend on thin ice, stood on the coffee table. His blue sweatsuit had been replaced with a Kelly-green one. His crazy hair looked like he’d stuck his finger in a socket and electrocuted himself to get it to stand up like a mad scientist. The tiny guy was still barefoot and strange, evidenced by the spastic jazz squares he was doing on the table.

I looked away from the dance exhibition on the table. My impulse was to slap the little nard. That would be mean. I wasn’t mean. I was confused. Was I mad at Shitty Ritchie? I didn’t think so, but why did I want to smack the miniature dude? Granted, he was very slapable, but he hadn’t done anything. Or, had he? I was sure I had something to say to him, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find it.

My brain felt fuzzy and unfocused. I’d just dived into the mind of… the mind of… Whose mind had I gone into? I swallowed my scream. I didn’t want to alarm anyone. I was alarmed enou gh for everybody. Rubbing my forehead with my fingertips, I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart.

“Four days. You were out for four days. And it’s nine in the morning,” Gideon said, sounding stressed. He watched me like a hawk.

I couldn’t hide from Gideon if I tried. He knew me like I knew him—inside and out. While I was fairly sure I was fooling the others, I wasn’t pulling anything over on Gideon. He could sense my impending freakout.

With effort, I sat up, looked around, and then immediately reached for Alana Catherine. Gideon deposited her into my arms, and everything was right in my world… at least in this moment. Little by little, the fog in my head began to dissipate.

“You okay, corn nut?” Candy Vargo asked with her head tilted to the side. “You look kinda funny.”

“Fine,” I lied. “I’m cool… good… peachy.”

Candy raised a brow but didn’t say anything else. I took that as an excellent sign. I’d just deal with what was in front of me. The rest would come. It had to.

“Zander and Catriona are back,” Gideon told me, still eyeing me with concern.

“And they’re up to speed on the zombie situation,” Heather assured me.

“Great,” I said with a curt nod. I remembered the zombies. I remembered that Zander and Catriona had taken them out. The zombies had wanted June, or was it Jennifer? Crap.

I continued to take in the great room while silently begging my brain to catch up. The Grim Reaper had been busy in my absence. The ratty but comfortable furniture that Candy Vargo had conjured up for us was gone. In its place was the lovely décor we’d originally picked.

“How?” I asked, shaking my head in surprise. “It looks exactly the same as it did before the house blew up.” I had long-term memory. Perfect. I knew that the tiny jackass had blown up my house. It was the short term that was screwed.

“Shitty Ritchie is very sorry about that. That was very Merlin’s magic spermy nards of me,” the dummy in question announced. He’d clearly been hanging out with Candy Vargo. Although, the spermy part was vintage Shitty Ritchie. Dude was gross. “I shall endeavor never to damage your boobing property again. I cannot guarantee that I will not destroy other people’s farting property, but I will refrain from demolishing yours, turd-baller!” He ended his promise with a pirouette that almost sent him flying off the table.

I stared at the idiot for a full minute. I knew in my gut he was a very important part of what I couldn’t recall, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out.

Gideon sat down next to me. He wrapped his strong arms around me and tilted my head so it rested on his chest. “About the furniture, I have a photographic memory,” he stated.

He wasn’t going to push me for answers. It made me love the man more, and I didn’t think that was possible. Alana Catherine reached out until she was touching both of us. I had another moment of calm. The two most important people in the world to me were by my side. Gideon had the right idea. He wasn’t going to push me about what was wrong. I wasn’t going to push either. I would trust that my memory would return. Anything was possible. I simply had to believe.

I looked up at Gideon. “You have photographic memory?”

He chuckled when Heather rolled her eyes and Candy Vargo flipped him off. I held my breath for a hot sec, worried that Candy was about to set her hand on fire, but nothing explosive went down. I guessed that the birdie finger was considered okay again.

“No, I don’t have photographic memory,” he admitted. “Between me, Heather, June and Jennifer, we were able to piece it back together.”

“I helped, sharthole,” Candy Vargo said.

“No,” Heather corrected her. “You actually were a massive pain in the ass.”

“Thank you, corn nugget,” Candy said.

Heather threw her hands in the air in surrender. “I give up,” she muttered.

Tim walked over and sat on the other side of me. “Are you feeling well enough to talk about what was discussed between you and Jimmy George Carrots?” He handed me a glass of water that I gratefully accepted.

“Oh my God,” I choked out, spilling the water all over him. “It was Jimmy George Carrots. I dove into Jimmy George Carrots’ mind.”

Now, everyone was concerned. Hell, I was concerned. Back in the day when I’d first mind-dived, it took me a long time to recover—close to a week. Now? I simply came back tired and was back to myself within minutes. Today? Not so much.

“Where is Jimmy George Carrots?” I asked.

Before anyone could answer, Gram swooped into the room and landed on my lap. She gave Alana Catherine a quick kiss on the cheek, then gave one to me. “Daisy girl, you need to come on outside. It’s time.”

She didn’t have to explain. I knew what she meant. Jimmy George Carrots had accomplished what he’d stuck around to do, and now it was time for him to go. The terrifying part was that I couldn’t recall our conversation. I needed to get to my silly friend and ask him before he disappeared.

I practically levitated off the couch in my hurry to get to Jimmy George Carrots. My panic attack was so close I could taste it. “Gotta go,” I said, carrying my giggling baby like a football and using my other hand to block tackles. I literally knocked Shitty Ritchie into a planter. Whatever. The dude had blown up my house. I’d apologize later. It was fourth down with three seconds to go, and I needed a Hail Mary to win.

I burst through the front door and then froze. When I saw Jimmy George Carrots in the yard, everything came roaring back in technicolor. If I thought I was about to have a panic attack because I couldn’t remember, it was tenfold now that I could. I pressed my back against the wall of the porch as my knees buckled. With my baby safely cradled in my arms, I slowly slid down the wall to the ground.

What I wanted to do—needed to do—was pack and get the hell out of Dodge. I needed to gather Gideon, Alana Catherine and Shitty Ritchie. We had to move to a safe house before the Higher Power sent Its zombies. As I was about to announce our immediate departure at the top of my lungs, my child cupped my face in both of her gorgeous chubby, and slightly sticky hands.

“Mamamamama,” she babbled, pulling my head down so we were eye to eye. “Is okay. Carrots bye, bye, bye. Is okay. Say bye, bye, bye.”

I blinked and then I blinked again. Her words made me think of the NSYNC song—Bye Bye Bye. It was ironically apropos. I felt like a puppet on a string that was being manipulated by the Higher Power. I didn’t like it, and neither did the dudes from NSYNC. I was pretty sure they got away from the psycho by the end of the video. I needed to do the same.

“Mamamama,” Alana Catherine insisted. “Lissen. Carrots. Bye, bye, bye.”

Jerking my mind out of boy band land, I focused on what my daughter was trying to tell me. In my heart, I already knew. I was the Death Counselor. This was part of my journey with the dead. In Jimmy George Carrot’s case, I hadn’t helped him, but he had helped me. He had given me a precious gift that could never be repaid. It was my duty and my honor to see him off peacefully.

I looked up at the seer and smiled. I got to my feet and walked out into the yard. He was no longer a decaying corpse of a man. An ethereal and blinding golden glow surrounded him. It was no surprise that Jimmy George Carrots aka Ted was destined for the Light. His goodness was clear. I watched as his body was restored to what it had been before he’d passed. He was adorable.

“Daisy,” he said, his lovely smile shining bright. “Remember that I wish you love, luck and millions of years of happiness. You will find all that and more as long as your eyes are wide open and you lead with your heart.”

“Thank you, Jimmy George Carrots. Thank you for everything.”

“The pleasure was all mine, child.”

As he began to fade into the Light, I knew I would never see him again. It was both sad and beautiful. Alana Catherine reached her small hand out, and I walked her closer to the golden glow surrounding our silly friend as he faded away for good.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” Alana Catherine squealed as she touched the Light.

I joined her. It was warm and inviting—felt like silky liquid. My baby waved bye, bye, bye to the ghost and he waved back. Her delighted giggle made the moment even more magical. We waited until Jimmy George Carrots was completely gone before I turned away.

I would be no one’s puppet on a string. I am Daisy Leigh Amara Jones. I am the Death Counselor. I am the Angel of Mercy. I’m a mother, a wife, a sister and a friend. I was not going to be the Higher Power’s bitch.

Not today.

Not ever.