Page 94 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
She was right. I couldn't use Logan for coffee and breakfast indefinitely. He wasn't my housekeeper. Besides Prudence, I was all he had. What would happen to him when I moved out? I didn't know for sure. Logan said that the next witch might not be able to send him on, but what did that mean? What would happen to him here?
"Grateful?"
"What?"
Michelle spread her hands. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"No, um, sorry. I phased out just then. What were you saying?"
"Why can't you choose bachelor number three? I mean, why is this such a pressing issue? It's a free country. Don't underestimate your ability to not commit."
I blinked in her direction. "Like, don't commit to either of them?"
"Yes. Remember the blonde paradox? Remember Gary? You tend to rush into things, only to find out that the guy isn't who you thought he was. Why don't you just wait, take it slow this time, and see where it goes?"
"Uh, I've already not taken it slow...with both of them."
The server returned with our drinks. I ordered a Valentine burger with cheese. Michelle opted for the garden salad, definitely the healthier choice. She was always making the healthier choice. She glared at me until the waitress stepped out of earshot.
"You're right. You're right," I admitted. "I'm not good at going slow. I have needs."
"Wait. When you say you haven't taken it slow, you mean, um..." Michelle leaned across the table, looking around her to make sure no one was listening, "You mean sex, right?"
"Well, yes." I bobbed my head back and forth on my shoulders. "Not sex exactly, but enough."
"Come on, Grateful. You're twenty-two years old. You can have sex responsibly without opening your whole life to a person. Keep sex where sex belongs, in the bedroom. Keep your heart where your heart belongs-in your chest, tightly guarded by your brain. You know, if you were a man we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Uh oh. I'd tapped on Michelle's passionate feelings about gender equality. Better change the subject or this could take a while. "I thought you were supposed to tell me to follow my heart."
"No! That's terrible advice. Hearts make knee-jerk emotional decisions. Your heart picked Gary and look how that turned out. This time, you need to use your head."
I knew she was right. Michelle was always right. But could I do it her way? Could I just wait and not make a decision about Rick or Logan or becoming the witch?
k Wise Counsel
It wasn't even seven o'clock in the morning by the time I reached St. John's Hospital, but my body told me I'd packed a week of living into the first hours of the day. My shoulders sagged, and there was an ache deep inside my chest. I didn't have a name for all of my emotions. In nursing school, they teach you to help people in crisis-illness, death, disfigurement, that type of thing. No book ever covered what to do when you find out you are the reincarnated soul of a witch, your neighbor is a blood-drinking immortal, and you have ghosts in your attic. I was in new territory here.
I stepped out of the break room with my stethoscope slung around my neck, knowing that no amount of medicine could cheat death. I've always known this. I've seen dozens of people die during my career. Only, today, a revelation; death was not the end. Death meant change. Death meant forgetting. Death meant moving on.
On the way to see my first patient, I passed room three twelve. The door was open. A teenaged girl sobbed into her hands, her brown hair tangled around her face. I knocked on the open door.
"Everything okay in here?" I asked softly.
She stroked her hair back from her red-rimmed eyes. "My grandmother..." She pointed toward the bed. "She just died. The nurse went to call my mother and make arrangements."
I shifted my focus from the girl to the body. Grandma may have died, but she was still in the room. My jaw dropped. Her soul looked down on me as I stepped, trancelike, to her granddaughter's side.
"Her soul is so bright!" Had I said that out loud?
"What?"
With my hand on the girl's shoulder, I struggled to regain my composure. The ascending light filled the room. Desperately, I wanted to tell this girl that her grandma's soul radiated pure good, warmth, and love. I was struck dumb. Her soul smiled at me, broke apart into a thousand pinpoints of light and circled up through the ceiling. I gripped my chest as a weight, one I'd come to associate with Logan, was lifted from me.
"Miss, are you all right?" the girl asked.
I faced her with tears in my eyes, my jaw working as my brain struggled to find the right words. "Your grandma was a wonderful person. If it gives you any comfort, for as long as I've been nursing, I've never seen a more peaceful death. You can tell... by her body. She was ready, and obviously loved." My voice gave out on the last word.
Eyes wide, she squeezed my hand. "Thank you."
