His chewing slowed as his eyebrows rose. "I didn't know it was your birthday. No wonder you were all pissy. Set up by your dad on your birthday? That's wrong."
I smiled a lopsided smile, and he smiled back. From the light fixture, Grace giggled.
My eyes dropped, and Josh went back to his sandwich. "I sort of remember Barnabas. You said he can keep those things from getting me? Where is he? Uh...heaven?"
I shook my head. "He's with Ron, his boss." Tension was winding tighter in me as we sat and did nothing. Why am I playing tea party with Josh when death is looking for us? Brushing my bangs back, I gazed out the kitchen window to the empty street. "Kairos wants his amulet back. Ron thinks I should keep it." What if they never show up?
"But Kairos has an amulet," Josh said. "I saw it."
Smiling grimly, I nodded. "Apparently it's not as powerful as the one I took. As bad as I feel for him, I'd rather stay alive, thank you. He shouldn't have killed me in the first place," I muttered.
His expression thoughtful, Josh propped his elbows on the table. "Kairos came back for your soul at the morgue. That's messed up."
"Yeah," I said, stifling a shudder. "He targeted me, killed me, then came back for me. They never do that." Why me? I'm not special.
"So you're a reaper now?" Josh said, looking uncomfortable. "Like in the books where if you cheat death, you take his place?"
"No freaking way!" I exclaimed. "Only a reaper can be a reaper. I'm just dead."
That seemed to give Josh a measure of peace as he settled back and started on his second sandwich. "This is so weird."
I snorted and ate a chip. "You have no idea," I said, then slid my sandwich to him, minus the crusts, which I picked at. Though I was upset, it was nice having someone to talk shop with besides Barnabas. I should've done this months ago. Not that Josh would have believed me, much less talked to me. I'd been spending so much time in my room e-mailing Wendy about nothing that I hadn't tried to make any new friends. Maybe I should change that, I thought sadly. That is, if I survived. Where in God's creation was Barnabas?
Josh began chuckling, and I eyed him. "I'm kind of glad you're dead."
"Why?" I asked, miffed. "So you can eat my lunch?"
Elbows on the table, he smiled. "Because it means I'm not crazy."
My brief smile faded. "I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to remember anything. It must have been awful, having a memory like that when everything is telling you it's a dream. Is it bad? I think my dad remembers stuff too." Me in the morgue, the call never completed to my mom. The guilt, the loss...boxes to be filled, taped up, and put in the attic.
His eyes down, Josh nodded. I heard a car pull into the drive and got up. It was my dad, and after seeing Josh's truck, he backed out and parked in the street so he didn't block him in. "What's my dad doing home?" My attention shifted to the clock on the stove. It was only one thirty.
Wiping the chip crumbs off himself, Josh shifted in his seat. "You don't think he heard about what happened, do you? I probably shouldn't have driven off like that."
My dad was eyeing Josh's truck as he came up the walk, squinting until he found the shade. His khakis and dress shirt made him look professional, but he was still wearing his lab coat - which meant I was in trouble. He never forgot to take it off unless he was upset. His work ID dangled from around his neck, and he tucked it into the lab coat's breast pocket when he reached the drive.
"We didn't do anything wrong by leaving," I said, suddenly nervous. "It wasn't your fault Kairos hit a traffic light. You didn't hit anything."
"It was my fault!" Grace chimed out, and the light fixture she was in glowed brighter.
"I was a witness." Josh pulled a phone from his pocket and looked at it.
"How would he find out, though?" I muttered, pulling back from the window when my dad looked up at the house.
Josh shifted his glass so it was perfectly situated with his plate. "It's a small town," he said, his brow pinched in worry. "I should call my mom."
We both stiffened when the front door opened. "Madison?" my dad's voice echoed in the silent house. "Are you home?"
I gave Josh a nervous look. "We're in the kitchen, Dad."
His shoes thumped on the hardwood floor, and he appeared in the archway to the hall. Josh stood, and my dad's eyebrows rose as he took him in. "Hello, sir," Josh said, extending his hand. "I'm Josh Daniels."
My dad's puzzled expression eased and turned into one of acceptance. "Oh! Mark's son. You look just like him. It's good to meet you." His grip pulled away. "You're the one who left Madison at the prom," he accused in a defensive-dad sort of way.
"Dad!" I protested, embarrassed. "He didn't leave me. I ran out on him after I realized you set us up. Josh was a perfect gentleman. I asked him over to lunch to try to make up for it."
Josh was shifting from foot to foot, but my dad had found his usual good humor, and his face showed a smile again. "I thought maybe it was because your bike had a flat and you needed a ride somewhere," he said, his eyebrows arched.
I blinked. "H-how did you know?" I stammered.
My dad put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before he went to the message machine. "I got a call from the bike shop."
My mouth opened into an O as I remembered I'd left it there. "Oh. Yeah. About that - "
"They ran the registration number and came up with my name," my dad said as he turned away from the machine and frowned. "Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been trying to reach you for an hour. Even called the Flower Bower to see if you went in on your day off. I finally had to leave work."
Embarrassed, I shrugged. I hadn't checked my phone in all the commotion today. "Uh. Sorry. I ran out of minutes," I lied. "Josh gave me a ride." My dad's frown was making me nervous. "So I asked him for lunch." Crap, I was babbling, and I shut my mouth.
A soft sound of disapproval escaped him. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" he said dryly, passing through the second archway to the never-used dining room.
I sighed. "Excuse me," I said to Josh, then glumly followed my dad. He had gone all the way through the dining room and was standing in the patch of sun that made it into the living room, shining on the wall where he'd hung some of the photos I'd taken at the balloon festival with him last month. He'd sprung for a ride in one, and you could see the entire old downtown in one shot, the rivers outlining its confines.