“Thanks,” I tell him, feeling strangely special. The last person to make me breakfast was my dad, and even though I know Max didn’t set out to make it for me specifically, it feels nice to be taken care of.
I slide into the seat and start eating. Max is slowly picking at his food, so I end up doing the same thing until he looks up at me.
“Don’t eat slowly on my behalf,” he says. “I’m not sure how my body is going to take this.”
I nod and shrug, and start shoveling the food into my mouth because there’s no reason to impress Maximus anyway, and I’m freaking starving. Makes sense since I used up so much energy last night.
“You know,” he says slowly, thoughtfully munching on a strip of bacon, “you really were something last night.”
I swallow my eggs down and try to smile my thanks.
“I mean it. What you did there, Ada…when I was with Rose, it took years of training until she got to that stage. You’ve been doing this, what was it again, a year?”
I nod, washing everything down with coffee. I have to admit, I like hearing how good I am. “Just over a year.”
“So you’ve had a good trainer then.”
The smile falls from my face.
Max’s brows raise as he notices. “Or not,” he quickly adds. “Sorry, I’ve missed a lot.”
“It’s okay. You have. But I keep forgetting that you’re back. In a way it’s like you never left.”
“Never died, you mean. Never left makes it sound like I moved elsewhere to start a new life,” he says, his southern accent coming out thicker. “Nothing started for me, darlin’. Everything ended.”
I let the weight of his words wash over me.
“So, what are we going to do?”
He cocks a brow. “We?”
“Yeah. We. As in, there’s no way that you’re going through the next steps on your own. We’ll help you figure it out. Help you get your old life back.”
“That’s mighty kind of you,” he says to me. “But I honestly don’t know what’s next. I’m not sure anyone has been in this situation before.”
“That we know of. Maybe you’ll find others. You can start a support club. Create a handbook for the recently deceased who came alive again.”
He chuckles softly. “I have to admit, it was starting to feel a little like I was Alec Baldwin in Beetlejuice. Trapped in a house, dead, unable to leave. Too bad I was alone.”
“But you weren’t alone for long.” I pause. “Don’t you think it’s odd that Perry happened to be in that house when you were? That you were able to communicate with her?”
He shakes his head and takes a long sip of coffee. “Nah. It’s not. It’s destiny.”
“This is the second time you’ve mentioned destiny. I never took you for a spiritual guy.”
“This ain’t about being spiritual, Ada,” he says, giving me a steady look. “It’s just about what is. There’s destiny in all of this. I’ve always believed in it. Now I know for sure. That’s why I’m sitting here right now.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
His green eyes look exhausted for a brief moment before they sharpen again. “Because I have to believe it. I have to believe this all makes sense. You have no idea what I’ve gone through, what I’ve seen…to be back here like this…it’s for a reason. I just don’t know what that reason is. But I have no doubt I’ll find out.”
I guess I can’t argue with that. The man definitely deserves to believe in something that makes sense for him, especially when there’s nothing about his situation that does.
“So, I guess you’ll be bunking here for a while,” I tell him. “Don’t feel bad, I’m on holidays for the next week so I’m doing the same.”
“Is it too much to ask for a ride back to Portland when you go?” he asks me.
“Sure. But I thought you’d stay here with Dex and Perry.”
He runs his hand through his thick red hair, the color of late autumn leaves. “No. There’s nothing for me here.”
“And there is in Portland?”
“I used to live there, remember? I could get my old apartment back if I needed to. And, besides that, there are answers in Portland.”
“Answers?” I frown.
“Jacob,” he says. “He got me as far as the Veil, but not the rest of the way. Why?”
I snort, picking up my dish and reaching over for his. “You have another thing coming if you think Jacob is going to give you answers.”
“He will,” Max says as I take the dishes to the sink to rinse them off. “Don’t forget, we go back a very, very long way. I’ve paid him many favors, and he’s done the same for me.”
“You Jacobs are a confusing bunch,” I tell him. “Redheaded enigmas wrapped in a ginger puzzle.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I glance at him over my shoulder. He quickly looks away, picking up his mug. Was he just staring at my ass? Granted, my ass does look banging in these pajama pants, so I guess I can cut him some slack. Besides, I’m pretty sure the gentle giant hasn’t been around women in who knows how long. Three years for sure, but I’m sure time runs differently in Hell.
I’m about to ask him how he’s doing mentally, after all that, when the door to the bedroom opens and Perry comes out in her house robe, padding toward us in her slippers, her dark hair a wild mess.
“You’re up,” she says to me, then looks at the plates. “And you’re doing the dishes. Quelle surprise.”
“Why is everyone so shocked that I’m up?” I tell her while waving at Max. “It’s noon.”
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and I barely did anything last night,” Perry says, heading to the Keurig. She pulls out a pod and looks over at Maximus. “And honestly, I still feel out of it, like last night didn’t happen. But there you
