Page 8 of Stolen Hours
Happy Haunting
Starring Toby and Molly fromHot Ghoul Summer
“Ihave tomorrow night off. Thank. God. Actually,canyou thank Him? Like, through a work memo? Or do we have to pray like everyone else? You know what, they were so good about letting you off with just a few little re-training seminars and a ton of paperwork when we had our little...”
“Spot of bother?” I supply, pouring Molly a glass of red wine.
“If that’s what you call a couple of killings and a whole fleet of supernatural folks convening to help send some bad souls off to judgment and save my butt, then sure. Spot of bother.” She takes the glass and rubs her eyes. “You know, Pine Ridge’s hospital is usually pretty quiet, but with three nurses and one O.R. tech out on either maternity leave or their honeymoon at the same time...” Molly groans and stretches. “We had two appendectomies and an unscheduled hernia surgery in one day. I blame the Halloween candy and all the decorating. The guy with the hernia—it was already a diagnosed umbilical hernia, and the guy was warned to wear his support devices, but no, he took them off to put a giant plaster pumpkin head on his roof, slipped on his purple icicle lights, and boom. Torn ligament and a hernia that needed emergency reduction. What a mess.”
“But tomorrow... We have off.”
Molly looks at me, head tilted. “You have off, too? But... You’re a reaper. Aren’t you always on duty? Except for your two weeks a year of paid vacation?”
Molly and I have only been married for around a year, so this is our first Halloween as a married couple, living together in my little house in Pine Ridge. This is her first year living in a paranormal-friendly community and working at a hospital (that really ought to have way more ghastly accidents and strange, unexplainable emergencies than it does).
“You know that my schedule depends on other people,” I remind her. “No one in my zone, or at least no one assigned to RMGA Local 17 and under my jurisdiction, is slated to need an escort to the other side. I have the night off. We can have the kind of romantic Halloween you’ve always dreamed of.”
Molly nods, eyes lighting up, and then dimming as a yawn threatens to split her cheeks.
“Poor love. Did you even have dinner? Want some pasta?” It’s almost midnight, but I immediately stand up, ready to throw some of the refrigerated linguine and a jar of sauce together. “It’ll be ready in five minutes.”
“You are the best husband ever, but I just want to go to bed. I ate a peanut butter energy bar between scrubbing out and the next round of post-op checks.”
“When was that?”
“Ummm. Seven-ish?” Molly rubs a hand through her hair and smiles at me with tired eyes. “Sorry I had to work so much this week.”
“That’s my girl—saving lives.” I kiss the top of her head.
“Was your week busy?”
I shrug. Normally, we’d have shared a lot more of our work experiences, trading stories day by day, but our schedules failed to mesh this week, especially since Molly’s been covering extra shifts for absent nurses.
“There were a few hard cases this week, but most were elderly people who were warmly welcomed by scads of loved ones in the afterlife. The usual.”
“I’m glad. I worry about you. You always get so attached to your clients. I still remember the first time I saw you work—how you were crying so hard when little old Gladys Emmerhoff was finally free from pain, and her leaky heart valves, and back in the arms of her husband and son. My gosh. That’s when I fell in love with you, Toby. I could see your heart.”
My head, still in a pale but completely human-looking form, nods, eyes misty. “That’s my girl.” I beam. “Only home five minutes, and making me tear up like—”
“What was it you called it? A big girl’s purse?”
“A big girl’s blouse. It’s—”
“British slang from a long time ago.”
