And that’s when he knew.
* * *
“Are you out of your damn mind?” Mei snapped at him. She stood in the kitchen, glaring at him as if Wallace were the stupidest person she’d ever laid eyes on. Hugo manned the register out front, the shop busy.
He shrugged. “Probably? But I think it’s the right thing to do.”
She threw up her hands. “Nothing involving Desdemona Tripplethorne is the right thing to do. She’s a terrible person, and when she finally bites the big one, I’m going to—”
“Help her like you’ve helped everyone else if she gets assigned to you?”
Mei deflated. “Of course I will. But man, I won’t like it. And you can’t make me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I know you don’t care for her, Mei. And you have very good reason not to. But you said Nancy trusts her, for whatever reason. If it came from you or Hugo, she might not listen. At least with Desdemona, we’d have a chance. And if what I have in mind works, she won’t be here very long.” He shook his head. “I won’t do this, though, without your okay.”
“Why?”
She was really going to make him say it, wasn’t she? “Because you matter.”
She startled, a slow smile blooming on her face. “I matter?”
He groaned. “Shut up.”
She looked away, though he could tell she was pleased. “Hugo’s not going to be happy about this.”
“I know. But the point of all of this is to help as many people as you can, right? And Nancy needs help, Mei. She’s stuck, and it’s killing her. Maybe it won’t work, and it won’t make anything better. But what if it does? Don’t we owe it to her to try?”
Mei wiped her eyes. “I think I liked you better when you were an asshole.”
He laughed. “I like you too, Mei.”
He wrapped his arms around her when she lunged at him, holding her close.
* * *
“No,” Hugo said.
“But—”
“No.”
“Told you,” Mei muttered as she pushed her way through the double doors. “I’ll watch the register.”
“She needs this, Hugo,” Wallace said as the doors swung shut. “Something, anything to show her that all is not lost, even though it can seem that way.”
“She’s fragile,” Hugo said. “Breakable. If it went wrong, I don’t want to think what that would do to her.”
“We owe it to her to try,” Wallace said. He held up his hand as Hugo started to retort. “Not just you, Hugo. All of us. What happened to her and Lea isn’t your fault. I know you think it is, and I know you think you should have done more, but what the other Reaper did is on him, not you. Still, it’s heavy. Grief. You know that better than anyone. It’ll crush you if you let it. And she’s being crushed. If I were where she is now, I’d hope someone would do the same for me. Wouldn’t you?”
“She might not even agree,” Hugo muttered, refusing to look at Wallace. He was frowning, brow knitted, shoulders hunched. “Nothing happened the first time.”
“I know,” Wallace said. “But it’s going to be different this time around. You knew Lea, at least for a little while. You spoke with her. You cared for her.”
Wallace thought Hugo would still refuse. Instead, he said, “What are we going to do?”
* * *
On the third evening, Hugo switched the sign in the window to CLOSED FOR A PRIVATE EVENT.
“Are you sure about this?” Nelson whispered, watching his grandson move around the tea shop, preparing for their guests.
“As much as I can be,” Wallace whispered back.
“A delicate matter requires delicate hands.”
“You don’t think we can do it?”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re blunt and sharp, but you’ve learned a bit of grace, Wallace. Kindness and grace.”
“Because of you,” Wallace said. “You and Mei and Hugo.”
Nelson grinned at him. “You think so?”
He did. “I wish—”
But whatever Wallace wished stayed within him as lights filled the windows.
“They’re here,” Mei said as Hugo went back into the kitchen. “You’re serious about this?”
“As a heart attack,” Wallace said, Nelson chuckling beside him.
He heard car doors opening and closing, and Desdemona speaking loudly, though he couldn’t make out the words. He knew who she was speaking to. If they’d done what Hugo had asked, they’d driven separately. It was now or never.
Squat Man opened the door. Desdemona entered first, head held high, dressed as ridiculously as she’d been before. Her towering hat was black and covered with lace, her frizzy red hair tied back into a thick braid that hung over one shoulder. Her dress was black-and-white striped, the hem just below her knees. Her legs were sheathed in red stockings, and her boots looked as if they’d been recently shined.
“Yes,” she breathed as she all but sashayed into the tea shop, removing her gloves. “I can feel it. It’s like it was the last time. The spirits are active.” She turned her head slowly, taking in the room. Her gaze slid over Nelson and Wallace without stopping. “I believe we’re going to get somewhere. Mei, how lovely to see you’re still … alive.”
Mei glared at her. “Grave robbing is illegal.”
Desdemona blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Whatever grave you desecrated to get that dress will—”
Nancy appeared in the doorway. Squat Man and Thin Man crowded behind her, looking as if they’d rather be anywhere else. Nancy gripped the strap of her purse tightly, her expression pinched, her breaths light and quick. She looked exhausted, but determined in ways Wallace hadn’t seen before. She stepped into the tea shop slowly, biting her lip as if nervous.
Hugo came through the doors, a tray of tea in his hands.
“Hugo,” Desdemona said, looking him up and down. “I was surprised to receive your invitation, especially after you returned my Ouija board to me without so much as a note attached to the post. It’s about time you started appreciating my work. There is more to this world than we can see. It’s heartening to know you’re beginning to understand that.”
“Desdemona,” Hugo said in greeting, setting the tray down on a table. “I’ll take your word on that.” He turned to Nancy. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s a little later than when you’re normally here, but I only want to help.”
Nancy glanced at the tray of tea before looking back at Hugo. “So you say.” Her voice was rough and gravelly, as if she wasn’t used to speaking. Wallace ached at the sound of it. “Desdemona said you invited us here.”
“I did,” Hugo said. “I can’t promise anything will come of it. And even if it doesn’t, I want you to know that you’re always welcome. Whatever you need.”
She nodded tightly but didn’t respond.
Squat Man and Thin Man began to set up. Thin Man pulled out a camera, a newer model as the last one had been broken. He positioned it on the tripod, pointing it toward where Desdemona would be sitting. Squat Man had the same device he’d had before, switching it on. It squealed almost immediately, the lights flashing brightly. He frowned down at it, banging it against his hand before shaking his head. “I don’t even know why I use this stupid thing,” he muttered before waving it around the room.