The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(48)

I am in control again. But I feel like I’m one shove from falling at any minute.

I’ve got to figure out what to do about July. The idea that she’s causing people to not die is ludicrous, yet I can’t fault her logic. Besides, it doesn’t matter. We need to find a solution for her. If it happens to fix the miracle, great. If not, then the two incidents were never connected and it’s not my problem. Except, I have no clue what caused July to return from the dead, and no plan for how to help her die for real.

July already attempted the simplest and most obvious solution. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself dead. Clearly she failed, though success was a long shot at best. It’s possible if we burned her body and scattered the ashes, that would solve the problem, but not only does the thought of doing that to her freak me out, but I keep thinking about the woman missing a chunk of her brain. What if some part of July survived being burned? What if, instead of freeing her, I simply divided her into countless tiny pieces and tossed them to the wind, leaving her aware somehow, yet unable to act or speak?

No. Whatever we decide will not involve harm to July’s body. I don’t care if I have to live with her rotting corpse for the rest of my life.

Logically, there’s no scientific reason why July should be not-dead. I can’t think of a single rational explanation for why she returned. But I can think of one very nonscientific, irrational reason. It’s pretty unlikely, but it’s all I’ve got.

Excited to tell July, I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my waist, and burst into my room. “I have an idea.”

“Oh, Dino! It’s so nice to see you!”

“Grandma?”

Grandma Sue beams at me. She’s short with silver hair that she always wears in intricate braids, and she’s dressed in a pink blouse tucked into high-waisted mom jeans. She moves fast for someone her age, and she’s on me with hugs before I can retreat.

“Don’t,” I say. “I’m wet.”

“Please,” she says. “You could be covered in mucus, and I’d still take a hug.” Grandma pulls away and pokes me in the stomach. “Your mother’s not feeding you enough.”

Keeping one hand firmly on the towel, I use the other to fend her off. There’s nothing I hate more than being body shamed by my grandmother before breakfast.

“What’re you doing here?” I covertly look for July but don’t see her anywhere.

“Is that how you greet your grandmother?”

“Sorry,” I say. “No. I know you’re here for the wedding, but I thought you weren’t coming in until later. And how’d you get in? My door was locked.”

Grandma toddles to my bed, where she’s spread her suitcase open and is already making herself at home. “I was visiting Dixie in Clermont and I woke up early this morning, excited to see my delightful grandchildren—” She throws the last bit over her shoulder with a grim smile. “So I got on the road early. As for the door . . .”

Dee pops her head in the room. “Good, you’re up. Grandma’s going to be staying in your room. I let her in while you were in the shower.”

“Thanks for the head’s up.”

“Put on some clothes for God’s sake.”

Grandma Sue chuckles. “Oh, please. I used to bathe him in the kitchen sink.”

My face is burning. “Please kill me.”

“Well,” Dee says, “I doubt much has changed.”

“Out!” I shove Dee into the hall. Then I turn to Grandma and say, “Hey, would you mind letting me have the room for a few minutes? I need to get dressed and get my things so I don’t bother you while you’re here.”

Grandma looks at her suitcase. “Well, I was going to take a nap—”

“You know what I’d love? Some of your lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“You’re hungry?”

I nod. “Mom doesn’t usually cook breakfast, so—”

That’s all it takes. Grandma pats my cheek and heads for the door. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll whip up a little snack.” Translated from grandma means she’s going to tear apart the kitchen making enough food to feed Hannibal’s army, which is exactly what I need.

The moment she’s gone, I shut the door, lock it, and whisper, “July?” My heart begins to sputter. “July?”

My closet door cracks open slightly. “Is she gone?”

Relief floods through me. “Yeah, she’s gone. For now.”

July stumbles out of the closet and slaps my arm.

“What was that for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?”

“I didn’t know!”

July cocks her head and stares down at me. “You didn’t know?”

“Okay, I knew she was going to be here eventually, but I didn’t know she was going to show up at seven in the morning.” The reality of how close we came to my grandma finding July hits me, and I have to sit on my bed, because I feel like I’m going to pass out. “What’re we going to do?”

July holds her hands over her eyes. “You’re going to put on some underwear to start.”

I snap my legs closed, then jump up and dig a clean pair of boxers, a shirt, and gym shorts out of my drawer and quickly change. “Done.”