The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(53)

“No offense to Delilah, but DeLuca and Son’s doesn’t exist without a son.”

“Names can be changed,” Delilah says.

Dad covers his mouth with his napkin while he finishes chewing before he says, “You should have seen the work he did on his best friend. It was a beautiful job.” He looks at me. “Did I tell you how many people complimented us on how July looked?”

Mrs. Kang says, “Your friend died? I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I told you about that, Ma,” Theo says, and there’s an edge to his voice hinting that he’d asked her not to bring it up.

“It’s fine,” I say. “Yeah. She died. Brain aneurism.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, broken by Will, of all people. “How you planning to stay in business if no one’s dying? You heard about that, right? I read on reddit about this dude who was cleaning his gun and shot himself in the eye and is still alive. He can’t talk or feed himself or wipe his own butt—”

“William!” Mr. Kang says.

“What?”

Mom cuts in with, “Can we change the subject, please? This is Delilah and Theo’s rehearsal dinner, not Dino’s inquisition.”

But it’s too late. Even though they’re trying not to stare, I feel everyone’s eyes on me. Dino DeLuca, the Great Disappointment. “Excuse me,” I say. “Restroom.”

I stand and head along the edge of the patio toward the restrooms. As I’m walking, a hand snaps out and grabs me and yanks me into a booth. I turn to ask what the hell is going on, and find myself looking at July.





JULY

“THE SERVICE HERE SUCKS,” I say. Not that it matters, seeing as I can’t eat or drink, but what does a not-dead girl have to do to get a server’s attention?

Dino sputters and then looks over his shoulder.

“They can’t see us,” I say. “The booth blocks the view. But I can hear most of what’s going on. Time to stand up for yourself, Dino. Tell them the only corpse you’re spending the rest of your life with is mine.”

“What are you doing here?” Dino asks when he finally finds his voice. “Better yet: How did you get here.”

I tear strips off my napkin and twist them to keep from biting my nails because that thing about how fingernails and hair keep growing after you die is bullshit. “It took me a while to figure out you’d abandoned me. At first I got pissed. Then I got bored. Which lead to me getting nosy. I may have snuck up to the house and eavesdropped at the kitchen window—”

“July!”

“And overheard you getting ready to leave for the rehearsal dinner. So I hid in your trunk.” I try to look sorry, but I’m not. “It’s almost as comfortable as my coffin. Not that I’m saying I’d ride there voluntarily—again—but if you ever kidnapped me, I wouldn’t complain. About the comfort, not about being kidnapped. I’d totally kick your ass for that.”

I think I’ve broken Dino. He’s staring at me with his mouth open, and I don’t think he’s blinked in a full minute. I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Dino?”

“This is a nightmare,” he says. “You can’t stay here.”

“Seriously, why did your sister pick this place? There are a million better restaurants in Palm Shores.”

“Because they’re not rich,” he snaps. “Dee and Theo are paying for their wedding with no help from either of their parents.”

“Calm down. I was only kidding.”

Dino scrubs his face with his hand and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Please leave, okay? Go wait in the car, and we’ll talk about this when I’m finished.”

I give him the finger with my eyes. “Or, I’ll stay and enjoy the view and listening to you not tell everyone the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re good at putting makeup on dead people, but that you hate it and want no part of the family business,” I say. “You’re not confused; you’re not still trying to figure it out. Not wanting to work at the funeral home may be the one thing you know for certain in your entire weird life.”

“And I guess I’m supposed to say it exactly like that?”

I shrug. “Maybe with less sarcasm.” I shoo him out of the booth. “You better go or everyone’s going to assume you’ve been doing number two.”

Dino gives me a mean stare, but slides out of the booth without another word and heads back to his table.

I do feel bad making fun of this restaurant now that I know Delilah’s paying for it. I should have guessed she’d go that route, though. It’s totally a Dee move, and I admire the hell out of her for it.

“Are you ready to order?” My server finally stops by my table. He’s an older man with receding hair and razor burn across his cheeks and neck. He’s holding his finger under his nose.

“Finally,” I say. “I’ll take the shrimp macaroni and cheese.” I hand him the menu. “Throw some bacon in there too.” I may not be able to eat the food, but I can’t sit here at an empty table. The server nods and leaves.

I lean back as far as I can to see what I can hear at Dino’s table. The other guests have gotten louder, and I wish they would shut up. I’m not familiar with everyone. There’s Delilah, obviously. Theo, Mr. and Mrs. DeLuca, Grandma Sue. I assume the other old people are Dino’s other grandparents. Then there’s not-Theo, who looks a little like Theo if Theo had been an idiot burnout, and the people I’m assuming are Theo’s parents.