Grim and Bear It
Chapter Eighteen

Rule #36: It's important to have fun and reconnect with your reaper family in your off time. -The Reaper Code of Ethics, official handbook.

Poppy

For being dead, we were loud. Our dads had built a long picnic table at the back of their cabin, then strung it with twinkle lights, just like we'd had at home. Except the grass here was brown and the sky was perpetually gray and never quite dark enough to make the lights glow. Still, it was the closest to home I felt on this death island.

Despite not having skin or muscles, reapers still aged and my family made it a point to celebrate birthdays. While I couldn't get osteoporosis or arthritis, I allowed my human glamour to age along with me. Every year on our birthday, we got a survey asking if we wanted to update our look. I was one of the few people in my family who always said yes. Granted, I was still the youngest of the brood. Maybe in ten years I'd feel differently.

It didn't matter that I was twenty-eight, I was still the baby girl when I walked in. My dad Joe picked me up and swung me around, then passed me onto my daddy Neil, who kissed the top of my head and tucked the hair that had come loose from my braid behind my ear. My grandparents and great-grandparents waved from a smattering of chairs at the edge of the patio. My siblings and cousins called greetings. Everyone wore their human form to dinner, and if I squinted hard enough, we looked like a normal family.

Since there were no bugs to worry about, Dads had left their back door open and an old record player filled the backyard with Cab Calloway. The table was set with the same empty bottles and dishes that had been dusted off for the last twelve years, and we took our usual seats. I played with my fork, running my fingers over the tines, trying to remember my favorite Sunday meal from back when I could eat. Probably roasted potatoes and carrots. Comfort food, they called it. Sylvia took the seat next to me, a cautious smile on her face. "We okay?"

I nodded. "We never weren't okay." I straightened my shoulders and set down my fork. "So, long list this week? I swear mine doubled overnight."

She shrugged. "No longer than usual."

"You didn't have that weird glitch thing on your fourth page?"

"Nope." She waved to Daniel and his wife, Caroline, as they took spots across from us. "If you're glitching, make sure to go visit tech."

Caroline nodded. "I had an issue with my manifest last week. They had me in and out like that." She snapped her fingers in emphasis. "Good thing too. Had a bus accident I didn't want to miss."

Daniel laughed. "Oh yeah, it was gruesome, let me tell you. Best birthday present ever."

Caroline looked up at him with hearts in her eyes. "That was a great night." She kissed him.

I looked down at the table. The illusion that we were just some normal family always dissipated before I let my guard down too far. Why did everything have to be about death and dying?

"Oh it was," Caroline said, not picking up my mood.

I cleared my throat and forced myself to look at my brother and smile. "Happy birthday, Daniel!"

Sylvia threw a napkin ring at him. "Yeah, happy birthday, Assface. How's it feel to be forty?"

"You can replace out in two years," he teased.

Our cousin Anya and her partner Nel plopped down on my other side. "Hey strangers. What're we talking about?"

"Daniel's advanced age and the bus accident," Sylvia explained.

"Watch it, I'm six months older," she warned, then sat down. "Happy birthday, man. Which accident?"

"The 202," Daniel explained.

Nel whistled. "Heard like seventeen people died. How many reapers were on it?"

Oh god, I couldn't sit and listen to this. With a smile, I excused myself, waving at another brother talking to another cousin, and wandered into the house. I couldn't smell anything, but if I closed my eyes, I could almost make out my dad's citrus aftershave and the scent of sun-warmed leather couches. I could almost hear daddy singing along to the radio while he cleaned the kitchen, and the tags jingling on our dog CJ's collar.

The cabin was smaller than our old house, since we all had our own places to live now. But the media center still sat across from the old leather couches, and the shelves were cluttered with dust-free photos of our before lives. I picked up CJ's collar, clicking the tags together.

The sound hurt to hear tonight, a wordless wish that things could be different. I knew that I needed to stop thinking about what life could be and just observe what my un life was. I could never go back. I put the collar down and slumped into the couch. Before Jake could see me, I had managed to get by, to shove everything unpleasant down and just exist.

Now, this existence was unbearable. I was at once suffocating and spinning out of control. I wanted to jump into the river and just keep swimming until I never had to climb into another boat or help another soul.

"What's on your mind, Poppy?" Daddy asked, sitting down next to me.

I shrugged. "Do you ever wonder what life would be like now if we weren't reapers?"

He put his arm around me, something he hadn't done since the last time I was questioning everything, about six years ago. I stilled for a moment, resting my head on his shoulder. "Does this have anything to do with you seeing Jake again?" I stiffened. "Sylvia told me about your run-in the other day."

I pressed my lips together, hoping he couldn't read on my face that it wasn't the first time. "Yes, I think so."

"Must have been quite a shock to see him again after so long."

I nodded. "Definitely."

He was silent for a long moment. "The night we got the call, your father and I had the biggest fight of our marriage."

"Really?"

He nodded against the top of my head. "Really. I didn't think it was right to force a sixteen-year-old to give up a life she barely got to live. I offered to stay behind with you for a few more years. Let you graduate high school, have another few summers with your friends. I wanted you to live a little before you had to die."

I straightened up and searched his face. "What happened?"

"Joe appealed to the board, but ultimately their decision was final."

"Oh."

He squeezed. "I wish I'd fought harder, but I'm not sure it would've done any good. Death isn't something we can plan for, no matter how hard we try."

"I know."

"You okay?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. Just my annual un life crisis."

He chuckled then sobered. "I know Jake was more than just a friend." "I...how?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Because I'm your father and I have eyes. The way you two looked at each other didn't fool anyone. And I also found your journal." I gasped. "You read my journal?!"

"Well maybe if you had a more creative hiding place than under your pillow, I wouldn't have found it. Who do you think changed your sheets, hmm? The sheet fairy?"

I crossed my arms. "That was private."

He shook his head. "I knew you thought he hung the moon and stars even before you confirmed it yourself. You had heart eyes whenever you looked at him."

My mouth hung open.

He reached out and lifted my chin. "Stop being so offended. You wear your heart on your sleeve. It's why you're my favorite. But it's also probably why this life is harder on you than anyone else."

I smiled and put my head back on his shoulder. "Liar. You're not supposed to have favorites."

"Says who?"

I made a hand motion. "Them."

"Who's them?"

"I dunno. The people who say these things about parenting."

He laughed a deep belly laugh. "Yeah, but grim reapers are a different breed."

"Truth."

We sat in silence for a long moment. "You okay now?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

He stood and nodded. "Better go check on your brothers. If things go according to schedule, we're due for another birthday brawl."

"I miss when birthdays were cake and ice cream instead of brawls."

"Me too, kiddo." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. We both winced at the sound of a dish shattering. "Not the Wedgewood!" he called. "They're a nightmare to replace.”

Shouts filtered in from the backyard and Daddy pulled off his robe and tossed it on the couch, his black slacks and oxford shirt easier to fight in than a cloak. Less to grab on to and pull. He took off running and my gaze rested on the inner pocket of that cloak, where he kept his manifest.

I scooted closer and wiggled his list out of his pocket just enough to see the names. I scrolled the first page, then the second. A quick look around confirmed no one had noticed me in the chaos. Third page, fourth, and finally, the fifth. I released a long breath. Jake wasn't on his list. I looked up to replace the fight had turned from an actual brawl to a show. My brothers were performing with exaggerated movements and a lot of bouncing.

Cloaks were piled on the ground. Would be a shame if someone stepped on them. Better go and pick them up. Sort them into a pile.

I scooted back outside, hanging the cloaks on the back of the chairs. Dad glanced at me and smiled but turned back to watch the show. I was just doing my usual task, after all. Being helpful.

While all our family on Dad's side were reapers, we weren't all travelers the reapers who carried the souls to the afterlife. Dad, like his mother and the past four generations before them, was part of the grim reaper Counsel and wore a deep burgundy cloak. They were the ones who wrote the rule book, who listened to cases when reapers were charged with breaking the rules, who kept our world in order. Daniel was slated to be the next member of the family to join the Counsel, but I knew Dad thought I'd be really good at it, too. Honestly, the thought of spending my days in a small room deciding how to run an entire community did not appeal.

My aunt and uncle worked in city services and had burnt-orange cloaks. They made sure the residential areas were maintained, the common areas were in good repair, and adjusted landscaping or architecture as required.

My oldest brother, Craig, had a deep-blue cloak, indicating that he maintained and monitored the boats and piers for soul distribution. While we were here because of some sort of physics I didn't quite understand, our little afterlife didn't magically fix itself. After my first required decade as a reaper, I had attempted to move into another area, something with less death and gore. Something that would help me with my obsession of checking on Jake. I didn't pass the test to get into the technology sector-I was computer smart but not Dead-Geek-Squad level and city services didn't appeal.

I had considered applying for a front desk job, where I directed souls through the gates, but that would mean never leaving this gray monotony. So I leaned into the big perk of being a traveler, which was getting to spend a little time in the human world. This had made my attachment to being human and to Jake much worse.

And now here I was, illegally pilfering manifests from people I loved and trusted for a human man. Maybe I had watched The Little Mermaid too much as a kid. I didn't even feel guilty about what I was doing. I wasn't given a choice, like Daddy was, like Caroline was, like Nel was. I was just forced into this life and I wasn't going to let it take away another thing I loved.

I took my time hanging the purple capes, slipping out the lists and tucking them into my pocket. Then, I moved back into the house and scurried to my dads' bedroom, where I liked to hide when dinners were too noisy. Scrolling two manifests at a time, I scanned. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I was halfway through Sylvia's list when I heard someone walking around the house. I shoved everything back into my pocket and pretended to be resting at the foot of the bed. The footsteps retreated.

That was too close. Sylvia would tell me if Jake was on her manifest, right? Especially because we were partners. We had nearly identical lists, but sometimes she had a few extra souls that she could handle alone. I stood and shook out my hands. I was going to have to figure it out another way.

I scooted out of the room and back outside, where I slipped around the table, making sure to drop the correct list into the corresponding cape. Sylvia's had hand-drawn flames on the case (she was an amazing artist), while Caroline's was brand new, and Daniel's was dinged around the edges. Nel's had a large rainbow sticker.

"Why are you creeping around?" Sylvia asked.

I jumped. "Just lost in thought."

"You're walking around, feeling up cloaks, because you're lost in thought?"

I nodded. "It's been a weird day."

"Yes, it has." She grabbed her cloak and slipped it on.

I pointed over my shoulder. "I'm going to head out. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Wait," Sylvia called. She padded her robe until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out her manifest, then looked from it to me. "Why was this in the wrong pocket?"

Shit. I almost slapped my face with my palm, but thankfully refrained. "Oh, it fell out when I moved the cloak. I just tucked it back in."

She narrowed her eyes. "Hmm."

"Night, everyone!" I said with a wave, and hurried away from the backyard, a chorus of good-byes following me. I should feel guilt for betraying my family's trust, or maybe even fear over Sylvia's suspicion, but I didn't. I needed to think about how to access the reaper's main death manifest instead.