virginity in the Amazon jungle to Korak the Savage, and it was glorious. But it isnât supposed to be like that.â
âItâs easy to see what you donât have.â
âDonât feed me that grass is always greener line. I keep thinking of all the things I didnât have that most people do, and itâs starting to piss me off. I know a million people would trade places with me in a heartbeat, but itâs not everything it looks like from the outside.â
âYes.â He cleaned his glasses. âAs clichéd as this might seem, we all have our crosses to bear.â
She was hoping heâd understand where she was coming from. His own extraordinary passion had been his undoing, and now he was trapped between life and death. It probably helped he kept forgetting that.
âI missed your funeral, Arthur.â
âIâm sure you had a good reason.â
âThere are always reasons. And theyâre always good. But,goddamn it, I loved you. I could have at least been there to pay my respects.â
âIf thereâs one thing Iâve learned from this experience, it is that ghosts donât generally care about such things.â
âYes, but the living do. I do. Even if I ignore all the things I canât get back because itâs too late, I think about all the things that are destined to come up. My mom had a bunion removed the other day. She didnât call me. It wasnât a big deal, but one of these times, it will be a big deal. And I wonât be there for her or Dad when it happens. Iâm sure there will be a good reason for it, but it wonât change that Iâll end up letting down the people I care about.â
âBut what about all the people youâve helped?â
âStrangers. Mom keeps a scrapbook of all the commendations, thankful letters, and awards Iâve gotten. It looks nice, but what does it add up to in the end?â
âHavenât you saved the world on multiple occasions?â
âThatâs what people tell me, but Iâm beginning to think that the world isnât as fragile as all that. The universe got along just fine for billions of years without me. I donât think it needs me to save it. I think it all works out about the same in the end. Sometimes, I like to think of myself with a dead-end job that I dislike, a husband who is letting himself go, and some ungrateful kids I take to soccer practice. It sounds dreary, but at least it would be my life. I know it sounds selfish.â
âItâs not selfish,â he said. âOr maybe it is. But itâs not unreasonable.â
He smiled at her, and he was so handsome in a bookish way that she wished she could kiss him. Touch his face. Caress his hand. Anything.
âMy question does then become Can you? â he asked.
âI can try,â she said.
âIâd wish you luck, but you donât need it.â
âThanks.â She paused on the way out of the study. âSorry again about missing your funeral.â
âFuneral? Wait? Am I dead?â
Sighing, she closed the door on him.
3
C onnie, as a woman of two worlds, had always had some trouble making friends. The extraordinary people she met on her adventures were usually so busy on their own adventures that unless they needed help foiling an alien invasion or exploring the booby-trapped ruins of a long-lost civilization, they didnât keep in touch.
Ordinary friends came with their own unique set of problems. It wasnât easy to balance the normal and the extraordinary. Those two sides of her life didnât get always get along, and the consequences could be bothersome.
Sheâd had three boyfriends meet tragic ends. Once would have been bad luck. Twice would have been forgivable. Three times was a sign from the universe. The healthiest relationship sheâd ever had had been with a warlord who lived in the mythic past, and that was
Carolyn McCray, Elena Gray