We settled for frozen yogurt, neither of us feeling like trekking to Ben & Jerry’s at the mall. I told her what my job interview in Kansas had been like, she asked what she should wear—as if I had any clue—and then she started in on Ryan.
“I’m actually seeing him this weekend,” I admitted. “Outside work.”
“Oooh! A date!”
“It is so not a date, Liv. We’re going to church.”
She nodded approvingly. “That’s very sensible, Cassandra. Show that boy exactly what kind of wholesome, God-fearing girl you are.”
“Ha, ha.”
“Well.” She licked her spoon, then swooped it around the sides, scraping up the final mouthfuls. “I’m glad you’re taking my advice at least.”
“Which was …?” I knew what it was but I wanted to hear his name. And anything else she might say about him.
“Duh. To stay away from Zander Dasios. Obviously. I’ll bet he wouldn’t go to church with you.”
“Probably not.” But I couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like if he did. If we stood side by side, arms brushing occasionally. My cheeks flushed.
“You’re thinking about him,” she said in a singsong voice.
“I’m not.”
“Liar,” Liv said matter-of-factly, shoveling the last spoonful of strawberry yogurt into her mouth.
“I was thinking about going to church.”
“Mm-hmm,” Liv said, smirking as she stood, her empty bowl in hand. “Church always makes me all red in the face too.”
Chapter 12
The closest Greek Orthodox church was ten miles away, coincidentally in Demetria’s school district. I’d been surprised when Petra said she was so close to us—I guess I expected her to live near the hospital in the city—and it made me wonder again about her and Zander. Did he know her? Was it really him I saw at Vauxhall? The idea of the two of them—knowing she was pregnant—stirred up all kinds of weird emotions, none of them pleasant.
Ryan was waiting on the steps of the funeral home. I figured we’d take the bus to the church since that’s how I always got around, but Ryan looked at me like I was nuts when I mentioned it.
“No, I’ll drive,” he said.
“You have a car?”
He smiled, very amused. “Where are you from exactly?”
I felt my face grow warm. Of course he had a car. Liv’s friend told her his house was huge. Death must be very profitable. Then again, I had plenty of money too, thanks to Nan. A car just seemed like a hassle I didn’t need.
I shrugged. “I’ve just never seen you driving. You’re always already here. I guess I assumed you got around the same way I do. My bad.”
Turned out Ryan has a very nice car, low and sporty, with soft tan leather seats and butt warmers. He turned on both mine and his as we got in.
“You see my dad and Mr. Ludwig in there?” he asked, pulling smoothly away from the curb.
“Yeah, but I just tossed my stuff in the locker and left. Do they know we’re … going to church?”
“Together?” He smiled, reading into my hesitation. “I don’t think so. Does it matter?”
“No.” And yes. I still felt a little weird about being here with him, blurring the lines between work and whatever this was, but Ryan seemed completely at ease. Maybe I was overthinking things. I changed the subject. “So what do your friends think about your job?”
He laughed. “They think it’s weird. Also bizarre, morbid, gross, you name it.” Ryan shrugged. “Doesn’t really bother me. I can’t imagine doing the stuff they do to earn money—working at the mall or McDonald’s or whatever. So boring.”
“I totally agree.” Liv would love TREND, but it wasn’t for me. For a variety of reasons.
He glanced over, still grinning. “Death is fascinating, isn’t it?”
“You know,” I said, “saying stuff like that will only make your friends think you’re more bizarre.”
“Do you think I’m bizarre?”
“Yes.”
His grin got bigger. “But you’re okay with that.”
“I asked you to church, didn’t I?”
“Maybe you’re trying to reform me.”
“Yup,” I said, smiling now too. “You got me.”
Ryan talked about school, a bike race he was training for, college plans for next year. He was decidedly normal, despite his preoccupation with death. Kind of like me.
We hurried through a packed parking lot and made it into church five minutes before the service started. Inside, the air was thick with musky incense. And warm. Bodies filled nearly every row all the way to the railing between them and the raised altar backed by a wall of gold-leaf icons.
I felt a hundred eyes on me as we walked down the aisle, slipping into the first empty space about halfway down.
The ceremony started, voices drifting solemnly through the church, priests in heavy robes chanting as they walked slow, measured steps, swinging a golden ball that leaked perfumed smoke as they went.
I’d read about this in Ryan’s books the night before. The incense symbolized prayers rising to God. Lots of prayers, it seemed. Greek Orthodoxy is a branch of the Catholic church, with many of the same beliefs and sacraments. There are small differences like the incense, use of icons instead of statues, and, more significant, the absence of purgatory. It’s either straight to heaven or hell for the Greeks.
The part I was really interested in, of course, was how the shift from gods and goddesses to a single God happened; one myth traded for another. Sixteen hundred years ago, the emperor declared the Greeks’ religion—what we call mythology—illegal, I’d read, punishable by fines, imprisonment, and death.
It’d be like me telling Ryan the sky was red, and if he didn’t believe it, I’d kill him. He’d probably agree it was red, even pass it on to his children so they’d be safe. His children would repeat it to theirs and so on until one day everyone in the world believed the sky was red.
Doesn’t mean it is. Just like it doesn’t mean the myths weren’t true.
I scanned the crowd around me, people chanting in unison. Whatever their history, they definitely seemed to believe the sky was red now.
And then I saw him, across the church, two rows behind, alone, not chanting, and staring right at me.
Definitely not a look-alike. Zander.
He winked.