Hellborn by Lisa Manifold

Author:Lisa Manifold [Manifold, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

No one spoke after that. Then Deirdre looked at her watch. “Shit! We have to get going! The service starts in thirty minutes. We should already be there!”

A warning to Doc to keep an eye on things, and use the ghost gossip network if he needed to, and we piled into two cars, and went down to the church. St. John’s Episcopal was where Meema had gone every Sunday, and Granny before her. Granny had also bought a section of ten plots for all of us in Mt. Moriah, thinking ahead that we’d all have to “die” from time to time. She’d even had an iron gate made for our section.

How could she be such a good planner in this, but such a shit planner in the bigger things, like making a deal with a crazy demon? Not that there were many who were sane. Although Beeval was. Or seemed to be.

We found parking, and walked to the church, tucked in between houses on Williams Street. It was filling up. Meema was believed to be the granddaughter of Granny, and the stigma of dance hall girl had finally faded. We were nice ladies who owned a tea and herb shop.

For the next two hours, we shook hands, hugged, introduced the Deanas, and then listened to a nice sermon for Meema. Then it was out to Mt. Moriah, and watching the coffin lower made all my tears come leaking out again.

Then they wouldn’t stop. Dee leaned across and gave me a handful of tissues. I mopped at my face.

Meema was gone. I couldn’t get my head around it, but this was final. Even though I knew she’d been gone since we’d gone to Hell, this was final. Real. What were we going to do without her? We had no plans because we’d never planned on her being gone.

I’d always figured if she wanted to go, we’d all talk about it, and then make plans from there. Not like this. Not by someone else’s choice.

“We still have to get through the shop,” Deirdre whispered in my ear, putting an arm around my waist.

“Jesus,” I whispered back. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.” Daniella came up on the other side of me. We stood together, the Nightingale girls, girls no longer.

Then Deana, and Dee, and DeAnna came and stood with us. “We’re here with you. This is some screwed up shit, but we’re here,” Dee said quietly.

I reached across Daniella and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

As I looked around, I saw the townspeople watching us. I could feel their approval. They liked seeing all of us, knowing that there were Nightingale women still there. We were a founding family. I tuned them out, because I needed to focus on getting through this, and then all the people who would come to the shop.

The shop was packed. Everyone had known and loved Meema, even the people on the Historical Society she’d gone hammer and tongs with when she’d wanted to move our house.

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