Lightbringer

like an accident.” Beside her the soul sobbed softly, tangled blonde hair dangling into nothing as she wept, over and over: Please-please-please.

“Accidents happen,” Emma agreed and slipped to the left to examine a read-out on one of the beeping machines. “All too often, I’m afraid.”

“That’s life,” Wendy said, giving up any attempt at subtlety. “Look, I know you can’t tell me anything, and I know this is going to sound so very grotesque, but can you tell me if her boyfriend survived? Whatever accident it was, I mean?”

The doctor stiffened and for a moment Wendy was certain she’d gone too far with her questions; Dr. Henley was going to order her out of her mother’s room or perhaps call security to escort her off the premises. Then the doctor sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Wendy,” Emma said slowly, “why do you care? Do you know Lauren?” She winced. “The patient, I mean?”

At the sound of her name the soul wept harder, shivering from the effort.

“No,” Wendy replied carefully, “but if I’d been in a big accident like that, one that landed me in a coma, Eddie’d be here every free moment, like my dad is for my mom.”

“And how do you know that she doesn’t have people in here every evening?” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “School’s only just let out for the day. Most working stiffs don’t get off at three, you know.”

“The chairs were over here,” Wendy said simply, amazed that the answer came to her so easily. “I know Dad and Nana were here yesterday, and Dad always stacks them when he’s done. There’s no guest chair on her side of the room.”

The corner of Emma’s mouth twitched. “You’re observant.”

“I’m here every week or so.” Wendy shrugged. “You learn how things work.”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Emma said, relenting. “And if you tell anyone that you got this from me, I’ll deny it. Get it?”

“Got it.”

Collecting the clipboard off the bedside table, Emma made a note in the bottom corner. “Good. Your instincts were right. The boyfriend was driving and he was D.O.A. They had to work all night to keep her going.”

Dead On Arrival. Wendy winced as Lauren’s sobbing ratcheted up several levels to an almost earsplitting decibel of anguish and pain. “Oh man.” She surreptitiously glanced at the soul beside her and sighed. “So she’s not going to survive, then.”

“There’s no proof of that,” Emma said stiffly. “She could pull out of it any day now.”

“None of my business. I got it.” Wendy reached down and squeezed her mother’s ankle. “Thanks for being cool about it. Anyway, how are things looking here? Same old, same old?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” Emma patted Wendy on the shoulder and once again Wendy was struck by how warm the tall, thin doctor was. The hospital itself was kept at a comfortably cool temperature but Dr. Henley was baking. Wendy wondered if she should mention it. “That’s nothing to worry over though, I promise. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but one day I’m positive your mother will pull through.” Emma winked and smiled. It was obvious that the expression was meant to be comforting, but it fell short. Still, her eyes were kind, and the fingers on her shoulder were gentle. “Call it a good feeling.”

That tight smile ended Wendy’s inner debate. “That’s good at least. Hey, look, this is going to sound strange, but you’re so warm. Are you feeling okay?”

“Am I?” Emma pressed her wrist to her forehead. “I guess I am. Must be picking something up; I’d better stop by the nurse’s station and grab an Advil.” She laughed. “Word to the wise, Wendy, don’t go into medicine unless you’ve got the constitution of a bull. Being around ill people will knock you out every time.” The pager at her hip beeped and Emma set the clipboard back in the plastic holder beside the door. “I’ve got to get that. It was very nice meeting you, Wendy.”

“You too,” Wendy said.

Once Dr. Henley was well away, Eddie patted the seat beside the bed. “Jon can wait a little longer. Come, chill for a few.”

“I’m so tired,” Wendy admitted. “I’m just not sleeping right, Eds.” She settled onto the seat again and stared at her mother’s face. “You know, to be honest, I don’t think it matters how long I scour the city or how many…how many souls I reap along the way. I don’t think I’m ever going to find her.”

In the corner, Lauren had finally quieted. The bad news had been a blow; she sat with her back against the wall and her hair dangling into her lap, forearms resting on her knees. Wendy’s heart went out to her but the translucency of her soul spoke volumes—Lauren wouldn’t need help crossing over. “I just wish I knew why Mom’s different than the others.” She sniffed and scrubbed her cheeks aggressively. “DAMN! I mean, this sucks. This just sucks. Mom knows this stuff backwards and forwards, Eddie. I’m still just in training. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do all this by myself anymore, you know? I’m only reaping the ones who get in my way and I’m still struggling to get by. I don’t know how Mom did it; she must have been a frickin’ superwoman. I need help.” She hung her head. “I need help finding her soul before she ends up like that.”

Eddie glanced into the empty corner Wendy was glaring at and shrugged, uncomfortable. Their talk that morning had left both of them a little raw but Wendy was opening up, something she hadn’t done since her mother’s accident. He reached over and took her hand in his, saying nothing, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. It seemed like the best course of action.

“You’re a good friend, Eds,” she sighed, and slumped against the chair, leaning so her forehead rested against his shoulder. “The best friend a girl could have.”

Eddie tensed and then sighed, relaxing. “Thanks, Wendy,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and bundling her close. “I’m glad to hear that.”

It was their habit, after school, to go to the Dew Drop Diner for dinner and wait for Chel to get off from cheerleading practice. The trip up to UCSF hadn’t taken that long but the diner was packed by the time they arrived. The smells of hot coffee, sizzling bacon, and crisp seasoned fries were rich around them as Eddie slid into their regular booth, hogging up an entire side. Wendy nudged Jon’s bulk over and tried not to notice as Eddie gleefully ogled a couple three booths behind them.

“I thought you were taking time off?” she asked archly. “First the doc and now this?”

He dismissed her question with an airy wave. “The doc was just eye-candy and besides, I’m sure she’s, like, twenty-two. Way too old for me. No, no, those two are the true shame. It must be a sin for people that hot to be together,” Eddie mourned, sinking down. “Then I can’t date either one.”

“Think of the babies though,” Wendy said, sneaking a peek. The boy was feeding his girlfriend ice cream, following it with a steamy kiss that reminded her uncomfortably of that morning in Eddie’s car. “Genes like those practically guarantee moviestar quality. Aw, first love.”

Jon glanced over his shoulder and snorted. “First love? Uh, no. They’re in my class. She’s not his girlfriend. That’s Mike Anderson, right? His girlfriend’s Sue Larson, on the—”

“Cheerleading squad with Chel,” Wendy remembered, flopping back in her seat. “Which is practicing as we speak. Huh. Wow.”

“Juicy,” Eddie agreed, wagging his eyebrows. “I’m clearly behind on my gossip.”

“You three are later than usual. Two cokes, one no ice, and a water?” their server asked as she approached their table. Lucy had been waitressing there since Wendy’s mother had started bringing her for Sunday breakfasts when she was small. By now Lucy knew their order by heart and kept her pad tucked in the apron slung low around her hips. Smiling, Wendy shook her head. “Coke for me too, Lucy. I’m feeling festive.”

Tapping the table twice to show she’d understood, Lucy spun on her heel to fetch their drinks. They never ordered dinner until Chel arrived, but homecoming was just around the corner, and her practice stretched longer every night. Wendy didn’t mind. It was the one time of day she could let go and force herself to relax. Chel would join them soon, but in the meantime it was just the three of them and the busy restaurant, each lost in their own thoughts.

Eddie made space for their backpacks on his side of the booth, pulled out his reading assignment— The Stranger by Camus—and dived in. Jon, following his example, began puzzling over his Spanish homework, leaving Wendy alone without something urgent to do. Wendy thought about starting her homework, but after her long day she didn’t feel like it. Lucy brought their drinks and two baskets brimming with fries. One sat before Jon, the other was for Eddie and Wendy to share. Jon absently began devouring his fries by the