Slowly, other spirits interested in the night’s festivities filtered in and took their places. A few sat on the grass, couples mostly, but the majority floated or perched on tombstones in singles or small groups. The space filled quickly, leaving only our mound of blankets for the living.
Most of the spirits remained wary of Kierce, but the more I nudged him to interact with them, the less they shied away from small asks. Like his invitation to join us.
Within ten minutes, everyone with a pulse had returned from their last supply trip and had chosen a position on the pallet.
Josie rested her head on Carter’s lap while Carter ran her fingers through my sister’s hair. And if she left a trace of orange dust behind, well, Josie had made peace with her girlfriend’s snacking habits.
Harrow and Aretha sat shoulder to shoulder, their hands linked on her lap.
Matty and Keisha bent their heads together as they fine-tuned the projector.
To no one’s surprise, Badb had stolen an entire tray of cheese and flown it to a stone bench to gorge.
Buttons, who we rescued from Dis Pater’s house, was quick to join her.
The real shocker was how tolerant Badb was of our new pet, but it helped that Buttons had decided on life as an outdoor cat, preferring to sleep in the garage rather than attempting to stake a claim on one person or place. I got the impression Dis Pater had smothered the cat with love, and Buttons was enjoying the freedom to come and go and do as he pleased for a change.
Had Dis Pater known his pampered pet had gone feral, he would have pitched a conniption fit.
Then again, if he knew Matty had taken over his pen name in an effort to destroy his literary legacy, Dis Pater might have chewed through the vines to come after us. His readers weren’t amused at the dip in the quality of writing, which only spurred my brother on to outdo himself with even more nonsensical plot twists. After the last book flopped, we had placed our bets on how long it would take Dis Pater’s agent to drop him. So far, Carter was in the lead if the last email from the frazzled agent was any indication.
“Sorry we’re late.” Pascal blurred toward me. “There was a commotion at the gate.”
A sour taste coated the back of my throat, and I stepped away from Kierce to greet him.
“You have a guest,mija.” Pedro jerked his chin over his shoulder. “Don’t keep her waiting.”
“She?” I reached for Kierce’s hand, my palm damp. “She came?”
“Of course she did.” Paco chucked me on the chin. “Now go welcome her.”
“Yeah.” I dragged Kierce a step. “I’ll do that.”
“Should I go,” he asked, slowing me down, “or would you prefer a private greeting?”
“Good question.” I massaged the base of my neck. “I should probably go alone, huh?”
“You’re never alone.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll always be right here.”
“I’ll babysit him.” Josie bounded up and looped an arm through his. “I swear on my life, he’ll be safe until you return.”
A faint warmth spread through his cheeks, joy at belonging bright in his eyes, and he nodded to me.
With a lump in my throat, I walked the familiar path to the front gate and found my mother, Lucia Silva, standing on the other side. She wore her matching sweater, and she carried an ornate box tucked under one arm.
“Hey.” I opened the gate, grateful Harrow had thought to pop the lock earlier to make it easier on guests to enter without making my usual climb. “You’re here.”
“You invited me.” She shuffled in through the gap. “You did want me to come, right? It wasn’t a polite gesture you hoped I wouldn’t accept?” She rocked back on her heel. “I can go, if you and your family?—”
“You’re family too.” I gripped her wrist and hauled her in, closing the latch behind her. “Come on.”
We made it to the viewing area before she threw on the brakes again, pulling against me.
“There are alotof people here.” She anchored her feet. “I don’t want to intrude…”
“Lucia.”Josie ditched Kierce, launching herself at her. “You’re going to have a blast.”
“Ain’t no Christmas party like a Marys Christmas party,” Matty agreed, waving at Lucia. “You’ll love it.”
