Playing her part to the end, she didn’t answer me.
I let out a soft giggle and hugged her to me. “I’m okay now, Aunt Lil. You can come back to me.”
She hugged me back. “Hey, pumpkin head,” she said, her sweet, toothless smile heavenly.
“Sorry I called you Irma.”
“Why? I like it. Might change my name permanent.”
We hugged for a long time, and then I told her I’d meet her in Albuquerque. She nodded and vanished before my eyes.
I got ready to leave for what would amount to my last day at work. Sadly, I would leave on a bad note. I was beyond late. Everyone would already be there. And boy, would I give them a morning they would not soon forget. I wanted to scream with happiness and a sad sense of regret, but I didn’t want to leave Denzel with a bad impression of me. We’d had some lovely nights, Denzel and I. Our parting would be such sweet sorrow.
With Osh following me from a distance, whistling as though he hadn’t a care in the world, I made a quick pit stop at Headless Henry’s best friend’s house and explained the situation. He looked at me as if I were the headless one, but I was okay with that. I felt calmness come over him as I spoke, as though he finally had permission to forgive himself for something he never actually did.
There were flowers on the doors of the café and a note saying the Firelight Grill would be closed for a funeral in two days. Shayla’s death would be felt for a long time to come. A somberness blanketed the café. Even those who didn’t know her well felt the loss.
I was well aware of how I looked. I healed fast, more so now that I was officially a god, but I still had fresh bruises, cuts, and scrapes across my face. So the concerned glances didn’t surprise me when I walked in and strolled straight to the kitchen, where a certain son of evil incarnate was making huevos rancheros.
He stopped, a coffee mug halfway to his mouth, and focused all his attention on me. I felt a languid appreciation roll out of him, and my chest contracted.
It was time.
I grabbed Sumi’s stool, set it before him, and stood to face him eye to eye.
“Are you going to tell me another lie?” I asked, my voice soft.
“I wasn’t aware that I had.”
I fought to keep a sad grin at bay. “Are you or are you not married?”
He put the cup on the prep table. “I am.”
“So, what? You’ve been having trouble? You’re not in love with her anymore? You’re separated? What lie are you going to give me next?”
“No lies,” he said, stepping closer.
I heard Dixie walk into the kitchen, felt the warmth she felt at seeing us. She knew. She’d known who I was and had been in on my wonderful family and friends’ plan for some time now. Reyes must have told her everything.
His expression softened, and his dark gaze flitted over my face with such appreciation, such admiration, my heart ached for him. But there was also a wariness, and I realized he didn’t know what I was thinking. He could no longer feel my emotions. So he didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he suspected. Or – perhaps – he hoped.
“I’ve loved her for centuries,” he said. “And I will love her until the stars burn out.”
“Well, okay then,” I said, leaning into him. “That’s all you had to say.”
He stilled when he realized for certain that I knew. That I had all my memories back. The relief I felt from him melted me. His emotions were overwhelming, but he schooled his features as always, ever the poker player.
“Welcome back,” he said, wiping at the wetness sliding down my cheeks.
I reached up and did the same to him.
Then I remembered a conversation we’d had a couple of days ago. “Did you really think that when I learned my celestial name, I’d leave? I’d forget all about you?”
“You did leave. You did forget all about me.”
“That’s different.”
“The pain was just as real.”
I couldn’t argue that. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed as though his life depended on it.
“I’ll need to know what happened to you,” he said from behind the hug.
“Only if we can go home.”
He set me back. “Yes, ma’am.”
Cookie walked in then, and she seemed to be the only one who didn’t care that my husband and I were having a moment. “Where have you been?” she asked. “And why do you look like hell on a stick?”
I released Reyes and turned to her. She’d jammed her fists on her hips and was glaring. A real glare, too. Not one of those fake, pansy ones.
“I think I met your friend Charley.”
“You… did? When?”
“When I looked in the mirror this morning.”
She stood in disbelief for a moment. Then astonishment. Then doubt. Then hope. Then wariness. Aka, the five stages of Cookie.
She whispered, almost as though she didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, “Charley?”
I nodded.
An elated cry wrenched from her throat, and she ran to me.
And that was pretty much how the morning went.
“You know,” Osh said, when he came in, “you could have marked a few of these people for me. I’m starving here. That asswipe after Erin’s kid? I could’ve lived off that guy for months. But no. You send him downstairs. What are they gonna do with him? Let him burn in hell, that’s what. Doesn’t benefit anyone. Just sayin’.”
Garrett was a tad more grateful I was back. He pulled me into a long, warm hug and didn’t end it until Reyes growled. As far as Ian and the other bodies were concerned, they implemented a strict don’t ask, don’t tell policy. I was down with that.
I did a quick exorcism-hug combination when Mr. P came in. I wasn’t sure why that demon had targeted him or why it was lying dormant, but all that really mattered was Mr. P. I gave him Helen’s message, the one about her son and how grateful she was to him for how much he was helping.
“It’s not out of the kindness of my heart,” he said. “Helen was a good kid growing up.”
Of course, she was sitting right beside him. “He knew me?” she asked, surprised.
“She was one of my best friend’s daughters. It never set well with me, the way they treated her. I think she ended up on the street because of her father.”
“I did,” she said. She put a hand over her heart, appreciation for him evident.
“Always felt like she deserved another chance.”
“Then you are helping her son out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Partly. But also the love of her mother. She was a good woman who died entirely too young. If Helen’d had her for just a little longer…”
“See?” she said, leaning over and laying her head on his shoulder. “Told you he’s the greatest.”
Dixie had called in another crew to work our shifts, and I found out that Reyes had been paying them to stay at home all along. “He told me you’d get your memories back. He just wanted you to have a job while you were here, and them to still have jobs when you came to your senses.”
Holy cow, I would miss her. “I don’t know what to say, Dixie. I owe you so much.”