Chapter 27

27

I didn't talk to Stefan that evening. When we emerged from Hell, after the confrontation with my parents, we gave Abby the rundown on what had happened.

"I don't think she's sorry for what she did," she decided after listening to everything our mother had said and done. "I think she's sorry she got caught. But maybe I'm just being judgemental. I don't know what goes on inside her head, and I don't want to. I hope she suffers."

"Your feelings are valid," Gabe said. "That said, I hope you can let go of your anger at some point. Not for her, but for you."

Abby sighed and nodded. "Rose already talked to me about therapy. I promised I'd give it a try."

"Good," Gabe said before leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Because I care about you and other gross emotional statements."

Our sister laughed and playfully pushed him away before giving me a tired smile. "What about you? You okay?"

I wasn't sure I was, not with everything banging around inside my head. "I will be at some point," I told her. "I'm as okay as I can be, given the situation."

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Gabe asked. "This is your home, too, after all. Maybe you could do with an evening in the conservatory."

I glanced at Abby. Our grandfather would probably head back to Hell with our grandmother, and she'd be left alone. Neither of us may have even vaguely liked our parents, but they'd still just died.

"It's fine," Stan told me, running a hand over my head and looking at me with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? Okay-ish?"

"I'll get there," I promised. "But right now, I'd like to not think about it."

"If you need something to keep you busy, you could scrub the glass ceiling panes in the conservatory," Abby suggested with a smirk.

"We're getting a specialist for that," our grandfather reminded her. There'd been a long, heated discussion over whether I'd kill myself trying to do it or not, and he'd won. He looked me over, eyes narrowing. "When you're done chewing on whatever's running through your head, you know where to find me if you need someone to talk to."

I must have really looked bad if he was saying that. I did not doubt that our grandfather loved the three grandkids he acknowledged as his, but he wasn't exactly good with things like feelings. I wanted to encourage this kind of reaction, though, so I simply nodded and said. "I know. Thanks, Grandpa."

Abby huffed. "He'll talk to me before he talks to you, old man. I don't steal his burrito when he's not looking."

"Or call him ugly," Gabe added.

Beelzebub looked five seconds from a nuclear meltdown, but our grandmother cackled and patted him on the arm. "Our grandkids sure do love you, don't they?"

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped. Stefan grinned at me. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," I told him. "I'm just distracted, I guess."

"I noticed," he chuckled, leaning against me. "I could stay if you wanted. At least until your weird sky does the thing and gets all bright."

I laughed and shook my head. "I appreciate it. But you should go home and get some sleep."

He reached an arm around my back and squeezed me. "I'll meet you for breakfast, then. I could make pancakes. With sprinkles."

Gabe groaned.

"Not those ," Stefan told him with a sigh. "I gave up on that recipe. I want pancakes, not the charred remains of celebrations past." He glanced up at me and made a face. "It's a long story. Just know that pancakes burn super quick if they have too much sugar in them."

"Pancakes sound good," I told him. "Especially if they aren't burned."

"We can feed the burned ones to Gabe," he said with a wink before giving me another squeeze.

"Or you could feed Gabe edible ones so he doesn't stay in a bad mood all day," my brother said. "Come on, let's go home and let my siblings get some sleep."

I had serious doubts about getting sleep that night, but Abby and I saw everyone off. The house was immediately eerily quiet, and we looked at each other.

"Am I the only one with an urge to turn on every bit of background noise possible?" Abby asked.

I laughed. "It did go pretty silent, didn't it?" I asked.

In response, Abby grabbed the television remote and turned it on, flipping it to what looked like a cooking show before throwing the remote back onto the coffee table. "There," she said. "Now, do you want the ice cream and stuff Stef and I saved you? You can eat while we talk, or you can eat after we talk, but either way, I need to know what's going on in your head. You came back with the same look on your face you had the day after our parents beat the shit out of you."

I frowned. Had I looked that bad? I supposed the whole situation hadn't been great, and I'd been left confused and unsure about what I would do, but really?

I needed that ice cream more than I thought.

"Ice cream and stuff first," I told her, turning toward the kitchen. "Then we'll talk."

I'd emptied two gallons of butter pecan with only a little of Abby's help as I told her about what had been winding through my head.

"So you're not sure what to do," she said, staring at me with a thoughtful look. "I have only one question. What do you want to do? Don't consider anyone else. Just you. What would make you happiest?"

"What would make me happiest would be not having to choose between the living world and Hell," I said with a groan.

My sister rolled her eyes. "Well, suck it up because that's not an option. Look, let me put it this way. If you go down there now, you could regret not doing more in life. And it sounds like we're basically immortal, so you'll regret it for the rest of your very long existence. If you stay, you still get to talk to Gabe and your crush once a week or whatever, and compared to eternity, eight decades is a drop in the bucket."

"Sure, but..." I couldn't finish my sentence and looked away, embarrassment welling up inside me.

"No, tell me," Abby said. "I can't help you work the knot in your head out unless you tell me what's got it snarled up."

"Eight decades may be a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things," I acknowledged. "It's just...what if he finds someone else in between then and now?"

"Then he wasn't the one, and we eat a shitload of ice cream while you cry it out," my sister said mercilessly. "You may have met him five years ago, but you've known him for less than a month. You'd heal and move on."

I sighed and rubbed at my face. "I get that I like him a lot, but I also acknowledge I have no idea what romantic love is and that I need to work on myself before I get in any kind of relationship. That said... I really like him, Abby."

"I like him too," she admitted with a smile. "Not in the same way, because no thanks. And it's not like I have any more experience than you, but I really doubt the world will end if things don't work out for you and Stef. Not saying it wouldn't suck, but..." She shrugged. "Sorry, I know that sounds heartless, but you've got to think about yourself here. Do you want to end up in the afterlife wishing you'd done more while alive? Or do you think that wish will pass? Again, I like Stef, but you are my brother. Between the two of you, I'll choose what's best for you ."

I sighed and shoved another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. "You're right," I mumbled around my dessert. "I need to talk to him."

"Yeah, you do," she agreed. "Also, I'd just like to point out that in all the centuries he's been alive, he's never had a serious relationship. The fact that he's considering having one with you in the future should say a lot."

She was right, and I had to admit that. I took another bite of ice cream and handed her the carton and the spoon. "I'm going to bed. Do me a favor and finish that off for me."

"Sweet dreams," she told me, already digging in.

I'm not sure what I expected that night, but it wasn't Yahweh sitting on the edge of my fountain, frowning into the empty basin. He glanced up when He realized He wasn't alone. "You haven't used it," He said.

"I haven't," I agreed. "For a few reasons. What happens if this house gets sold? Because eventually both Abby and I will be dead and will no longer live here. I don't think it's in anyone's best interest if a fountain with no pump system or connected plumbing somehow pumps water through it."

Yahweh let out a snort. "Do you really think I hadn't considered that?" He asked. "If the house leaves your hands, the thing I gave you will cease working."

"I'll think about it," I told him. "Once I've figured out more important things."

"Are you worrying about what you should do?" Yahweh asked. "Or does this have to do with what happened tonight?"

"Oh, no, it doesn't have anything to do with my parents beyond their neglect and abuse making me realize a few things. I suppose I'm probably a horrible child for that."

"Why?" He asked. "They were horrible to you; you don't owe them anything. They're getting precisely what they deserve."

Hearing God say what I'd been thinking made me feel a little better. I hadn't been worried about ending up in one of Hell's little torture scenarios over it or anything, but it was nice to have my feelings validated all the same. "Well, you have to admit, that book that purports to contain your words has a lot to say about unfilial children. But no, that's not what I'm working through. I'm just..." I sighed and took a seat next to Him. "I think I know what I should do, but I also don't want to." I gave Him a look. "It would be much easier if I could go back and forth between realities like I'm doing now."

"It would," Yahweh agreed. "And I'd let you do it, but that's above my pay grade, so to speak."

I nodded with a heavy sigh. "I know." I sighed again and rubbed my face before turning to look at him. "Tell me the terms again."

"You'll have no contact with those you leave behind in the afterlife, save for weekly visits with one person of your choice," He said. "Gabe will bring them, so I imagine a few minutes to say hello will be allowed. For a while, you'll have access to your grandfather. Since he's your sister's guardian, he'll be allowed his usual daily visits to the living world until she's legally an adult."

So, I had roughly a year of in-person visits with my grandfather. That was something. "Would I be allowed to give him letters and packages to take back to the others?"

Yahweh squinted at me. "Huh. That's a good question." He took out a phone and started tapping at it, then looked up at me. "Hopefully they aren't busy."

A moment later, His phone let out an oddly triumphant chime. "What on earth?" I asked.

Yahweh laughed. "It's the victory tune from the seventh in a line of fantasy RPGs. You should play it sometime. As far as I'm concerned, it's the best in the series." He tapped at his phone again. "I'll have your grandfather get you a copy and the console you'll need. Also, I am to pass on the message that they find it very telling of your virtue that you asked about giving but not receiving. They are very pleased and encourage you to send care packages for the year your grandfather will be allowed in the living world as it will help balance out what has been given to you in the way of help." He looked up at me from his phone. "You're not allowed to receive anything in return except words spoken to your grandfather that are in turn spoken to you. No gifts and no notes, not even a tiny Post-it."

In a way, that sounded harsh, but it made total sense. We were trying to fix things that had been put out of balance by the help I'd received. Basically, I'd been given a lot that had never been intended for me. It would make sense that giving back without receiving something in return could help resolve that problem. "If things are set to rights before the eighty-four years is up, can I go sooner?" I asked hopefully.

Yahweh laughed at that. "No. You'll live out a long life, not able to die until after your one hundred and second birthday, on the anniversary of the day you returned to the living world for good." He cringed a little and looked away. "I mean it when I say you won't be able to die. Even if you tried to kill yourself, you'd fail every time. You could be bleeding out on the floor from severed arteries, and they'd somehow manage to knit themselves back together. It's kind of like what happens in the afterlife. On the plus side, you'll never have so much as a cold again. You'll be so healthy as to be inexplicable."

"That sounds like me ending up in a lab with experiments being done on me," I pointed out.

He grinned. "Only if you go to a doctor and they notice it, but you won't need their services since you'll never be sick or injured. You'll be okay, I promise I won't let any mad scientists get their hands on you." He patted my knee and chuckled. "No matter what you choose, everything will work out, I promise. After all, doesn't it say I have a plan for everyone?"

I laughed. "Yeah, but that book also says I should stone people to death. Somehow, I don't see that as something I should listen to."

"Fair enough," He said with a laugh before His expression went serious again. "My child, you need to do what you feel is best for you. Know that either choice you make, I support that decision. No matter where you decide to stay for the time being, you will make a difference to the people around you."

I nodded. I appreciated what He said, but that didn't make it any easier for me. "I suppose I need to talk to Stefan," I sighed.

Yahweh nodded. "I believe that would be for the best." He winced and gave me an apologetic look. "I know I kind of smashed you two together like a child picking up dolls and shouting, 'Now kiss!' but I promise I had honorable intentions."

I stared at Him, one corner of my mouth twitching as I pushed down my laughter. "Gabe yelled at you, didn't he?"

Yahweh opened His eyes wide and shook His head. "It was Stan." He shuddered. "Do not ever make that man mad. He came right into Hell shouting about how the two of you were meant to be anyway and why did I have to rush things?—"

"I'm sorry, wait," I said, holding up a hand. "What do you mean the two of us were meant to be?"

Yahweh's brow creased as he frowned at me. "Did nobody tell you? Well, no, I don't suppose they would. Gabe would have wanted to keep it to himself until after you'd passed, likely, and Stan believes in letting people think things always happen naturally."

I wasn't sure I liked the way this conversation was going, but I cocked my head and stared at him until his babbling wound down. "I swear if you're about to tell me something about being predestined..."

Yahweh scratched His cheek and very pointedly looked away from me. "Not quite," He mumbled. Then He glanced at me, saw my glare, and sighed. "Okay, look, what does the living world say about soulmates?"

"Dunno," I admitted. "Not like it's something we really talked about at home, school, or church."

"Okay, then bear me with," Yahweh said. "Last I knew, the popular definition amounted to soulmates being a romantic pairing with an automatic happily ever after with no effort required on anyone's part. That's not quite accurate, though. Soulmates have to do with..." He paused again and waved a hand in the air. "Whatever you want to call the positive juju Hell is working to put back into the worlds. Everyone comes into existence with it—even gods. Sometimes, two beings have such a strong match to their natural energies that they may as well come from the same person. If they meet, they will always be a part of each other's existence. That's not to say it's always romantic or that you're guaranteed happiness." Yahweh cleared His throat and looked away again. "Also, it's exceedingly good for the worlds when they meet. It amplifies the positive energy around them."

I stared at Him in silence before I let out a disgusted sigh. "So you threw us together in hopes something would stick, not caring about us , but about everything around us?"

He winced. "I had my orders," He admitted. "That said, I was and am wishing for the best for both of you."

"I'm kind of mad," I admitted after more silence. "Also grateful. But kind of mad. People are not toys or tools."

"I know that," Yahweh protested, holding up both hands in front of Himself. "The really old gods, though..." He shook His head. "They sometimes forget what humanity is. Some of them are too long separated from it."

"So, the fact that I showed up in Stefan's kitchen five years ago?"

"Was my doing, yes," He admitted sheepishly. "Are you going to tell him?"

"No," I said immediately. "Bad enough I know, and even though I have the utmost respect for you, I'm starting to see why my grandfather says you lack common sense. No, I'll tell Stefan in the future, but not right now. That's too much pressure in a relationship that hasn't even started yet."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Right now?" I asked. "Right now, I'm going to wake up, wait for my grandfather's morning check-in, hitch a ride back to Hell, and talk with the vampire I have a crush on. Then, I might cry until I puke. I haven't decided yet."

I was pretty sure He laughed, but I was out of the dream before I could really tell for sure.