Page 82 of You'll Be the Death of Me

The drive across the bay to Berkeley wasn’t bad on a Sunday. Jason drove, Dell sat in front, and Cole was buckled into the back seat even though the seat belt served no purpose. They’d discussed their cover story on the drive, and by the time they were walking the front path to a stone Craftsman with sage-green trim, Dell’s nerves had knotted themselves into a bundle.

The coffee at Jason’s hadn’t helped.

“Okay, so where did we go to grad school?” Jason whispered.

“Stanford,” Dell whispered back, in Robbie’s voice. “Try to avoid the specifics, but we can at least follow their lead.”

Jason nodded, although Dell could tell he was nervous too. “Follow their lead, got it. And Robbie is my...?”

“Grad student,” Dell said. “You’ve brought me along because I was inspired by Dr. Lewis’s work, and when you offered to set upa meeting, you were surprised and saddened to learn he’d passed away. You and Cole weren’t reallyfriendsback then, but acquaintances in the same PhD cohort.”

Jason let out a big breath. “Bit of a stretch for me, but I guess I can be Dr. Marshall for an hour if it will bring you back from the dead.”

“Here’s hoping,” Dell said, and climbed the short concrete staircase to the front porch. A potted plant and a pair of cushioned chairs sat off to the left, with the door to the right.

Cole stood close behind Dell. She could feel him there, vibrating with nerves and excitement, same as her. The energy coming off him held a bittersweet sadness too. As if he knew he couldn’t actually get close to the people he was about to meet, but he still longed to meet them all the same.

She held out Robbie’s hand in a way that let Cole slip his into it without looking like Robbie was awkwardly holding the air. “Everything will be fine,” she assured him in a whisper. Cole squeezed her hand back.

They’d talked about Cole using Robbie’s body to see his parents, but he wasn’t ready to attempt it. In truth, he wasn’t even sure he could do it, he’d confessed to Dell. They’d decided to leave it to her both because she was a pro by now, and so that Cole could observe his parents without having to worry about slipping up while he was supposed to be dead.

Dell let Jason ring the doorbell, and all three of them collectively jumped at the dog bark that instantly responded. The patter of paws preceded a woman’s voice inside the house.

“Chaucer, sit!”

Dell turned to make knowing eyes at Cole, recalling what she’d said in jest about him naming his childhood stuffed animals after famous authors. Cole gave her a small shrug.

The sound of excited paws and barking only grew louder when the front door opened. A woman with gray hair pulled into a bun tried and failed to control the furry ball of golden retriever that came barreling out.

“Chaucer, no!” she called. “I am so sorry,” she apologized in a fluster. She stepped onto the porch and tried to reach for the dog’s collar. He wasn’t making a run for it but instead beelining for Cole like he could see him standing there. He sniffed the air and waggled and nearly peed himself with excitement, and only Dell could fully see what was going on.

Cole sunk to a knee to welcome him. The dog licked his face and hands and all but tackled him flat onto his back.

“I have no idea what has gotten into him. I am so sorry,” Mrs. Lewis said. “Chaucer, inside!” She snapped her fingers and gave a little whistle.

Dell stepped to the side to intervene and at least try to make it look like the dog was greetingherand not who she was positive was his original owner. “What a friendly boy!” she sang in Robbie’s voice.

“Yes, he won’t hurt anyone, don’t worry. This is just the most animated I’ve seen him in ages. He was our son’s dog, and ever since he passed, he’s been a little moody. Chaucer, come here, boy!” She reached for his collar again and got a hand on it.

Chaucer whined in protest, but Cole aided the situation by lifting himself off his butt and crawling toward the doorway. The smile on his face told Dell all she needed to know about his feelings toward dogs.

“I am so sorry about all that,” Mrs. Lewis said, having no idea she was standing mere inches from her son’s ghost on all fours.

“He can see me!” Cole said with unbounded joy. “This is incredible. Hiya, boy.”

Dell watched Chaucer continue to lick his face and wag his whole body. It misted her eyes with tears. Thankfully, Mrs. Lewis was too distracted by her fluster to notice.

“How can I help you?” she said, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

Jason stepped forward, having moved out of the way of the commotion. “Hi, Mrs. Lewis? My name is Jason, and this is Robbie. We are so sorry to hear about your son’s passing. That’s why we are here, actually.”

Mrs. Lewis brushed her hands together and then set them on her hips, taking on a slightly defensive pose. “Who are you?”

“I went to grad school with Cole,” Jason said, and pressed a hand to his chest. “We were in the same program. And this is Robbie—Robert—my grad student. He came across some of Cole’s work the other day, and I told him we were old acquaintances and could introduce him. And then when I went to look up his contact information, I found out he’d passed last year. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I would have been there at the memorial service, but we’d fallen out of touch over the years, and I didn’t hear the news.”

Dell painted Robbie’s face with sympathy, which wasn’t very hard. It was a good cover story, and Jason was selling it like an actor on the silver screen.

Mrs. Lewis’s face softened; her shoulders loosened. She removed her hands from her hips. “Thank you for your sympathy. I am always happy to meet anyone who knew Cole.”