Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

“Toodleoo. Have a fun time!”
    Casey shook her head and walked the rest of the way to the Camry, where Eric was waiting in the driver’s seat. Casey gritted her teeth, opened the door, and forced herself to sit.
    She was traveling in way too many cars these days.
    She shut the door. “I hope you’re a better driver than Rosemary.”
    “Oh, much better. But then, most people are.”
    Casey had to agree.
    They pulled away from the curb, and Casey lifted her hand to the two women, who waved from the porch. She rested her head against the headrest, closing her eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” Eric said.
    She kept her eyes closed. “For what?” Although she knew.
    “For not telling you. You know, about my family…” His voice drifted off.
    She rolled her head to the left and looked at him. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
    “But—”
    “What have I told you?”
    He glanced at her. “You mean about yourself?”
    “Yes.”
    He bit his lip, thinking. Finally, his face cleared, and he smiled. “That your name is Casey Smith.”
    “Right. Anything else?”
    He gave a little laugh. “Not a thing.”
    She turned her head back to center, looking out the windshield. “So see? Nothing to be sorry about.”
    They drove quietly for several minutes. Eric really was a much better driver than Rosemary. Casey found herself drifting off.
    “—and that’s what confuses me.”
    Casey blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”
    “Were you sleeping?”
    She made a face. “I didn’t have the greatest night.”
    “Yeah. I heard. But then, I guess you’re used to sleeping on the ground.” He looked at her expectantly.
    “Sometimes. But their ground must be extra hard.” She didn’t need to tell him it wasn’t the ground that caused the problems. She glanced into the back seat, but Death wasn’t there. “So what were you saying?”
    “That Ellen’s…death… That she wasn’t without hope. In fact, she was determined to get through it all. Had actually told me just the evening before that everyone would soon be working again.”
    “At HomeMaker?”
    “I’m not sure. But I thought that’s what she meant.”
    “But how?”
    He shrugged, his mouth forming a hard line. “She never got to tell me.”
    They went around a corner and Casey pulled down the visor, the sun having momentarily blinded her. “Not a hint?”
    “Just that things weren’t as bad for us as we all thought they were.”
    Casey flinched. Well-meaning people—at least they thought they were well-meaning—said the same to her during those first several months. She wasn’t sure how they thought things could be any worse , but she never bothered to ask.
    “So did she mean things weren’t as bad at HomeMaker itself? Or just within the town?”
    “I really don’t know, except she wasn’t exactly happy about it. I mean, she was happy the town would be working, but something about it upset her.”
    They rode in silence again, but this time Casey didn’t fall asleep.
    “My dad never tells me anything,” Eric said.
    “About work?”
    “About anything . He used to.”
    “Before you went away? Or before your parents got divorced?”
    He flicked her a glance. “Some when I was little. But he seemed to think, later on, that HomeMaker was something I’d be interested in.”
    “I thought you’d sworn never to talk to him again.”
    He shrugged. “I was twelve.”
    “So what he told you—did you want to hear it?”
    He leaned to the side, resting his left arm on the door, driving with his right. “That’s the thing. The stuff he’d tell me…”
    “Like what?”
    “I’m sure you can guess. It was all about the money. It always was.”
    “That’s not what Rosemary says.”
    “What?”
    “She says he started out funny and sweet. And something changed him.”
    “Yeah. A whiff of the green stuff.”
    Casey nodded. “Could’ve been that.”
    “It was.” His face was still. Stony.
    They were in town now, a slightly larger town than Clymer, boasting a whole row of restaurants, rather than the few Clymer had. The Pizzeria came up on their right, and Eric pulled around to the back of the building. “Want to help carry?”
    “Of course.” Casey undid her seatbelt, and got out of the car.
    Eric tossed his keys on the seat and popped open his trunk before rapping his knuckles on the metal back door of the building. It opened with a scrape against the gravel.
    “Hey, Eric.” The woman, whose badge proclaimed her the shift manager, shoved