CHAPTER 6.

It was nearly two in the morning when I got home, nearly two-thirty before I fell asleep, and nearly dawn when I felt the mattress sag. Someone was sitting on the bed, near my feet.

Drifting, I kept my eyes closed. Morning light filtered through my lids, but it was faint enough to ignore as long as the curtains were drawn. It took a moment to dawn on me that since I was in my own bedroom, not Joe's, I should be alone.

I shifted, lifting my head to peer toward the foot of the bed.

There was a woman sitting there.

"Don't be afraid." She lifted a hand in my direction. An unmistakable Southern drawl, comforting and kind. "There's no need to be afraid." A sun-ripened scent, fresh fruit and flowers.

Peaches.

I was scrabbling, all elbows, arms, and knees. In two seconds I had my back against the headboard. The room was dim, and it was hard to make out her face. Then I saw what she was wearing, and my heart did a flip-the hot pink chiffon Kelly and I had taken to Mr. Bates, the cadaver-man.

A lump rose in my throat. This was my biological mother. Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. Funny, it had never mattered much to me that I was adopted. Now it was overwhelming.

"You must be so mad at me." Peaches put her hand down, folding it into her lap. "I've made a mess of things, as usual. I wouldn't blame you a bit if you were to tell me to go away. You girls were supposed to be together. I always thought you were together."

That lazy Southern accent was deceptive-she was doing some fast talking. "I made a terrible mistake giving you girls up. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't wish I'd done things differently. And then I go and get myself killed just when I had the chance to make it right." She sighed. "All because I didn't want my seat belt to wrinkle my outfit. Vanity, thy name is Peaches."

Her friendly chatter left me numb. This was hardly an ordinary meeting. Lila Boudreaux-Peaches-might be the woman who gave me life, but she was still a stranger.

Besides, she was dead.

And I had no idea what to say to her.

"I came to say good-bye," Peaches said.

"Shouldn't you have said hello first?" The words popped out before I could stop them.

"I didn't know who you were when I came into the store, Nicki. I was confused at the time, scared, worried about your sister. By the time I put it all together, what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, darlin'... it's me, your dead mama?' "

I bit my lip and said, "No offense, but showing up dressed for your own funeral probably isn't the best way to get to know me. Neither is popping up in my backseat with a cryptic comment about some guy lying to Kelly, and then disappearing on me." This was way too freaky-I didn't need a mother nobody could see but me. I'd had a wonderful childhood with wonderful parents. No childhood traumas, no abandonment issues here. "I don't mean to be rude, but this is never going to work. It's not like we can have a meaningful relationship at this late date, is it?"

"You're a feisty little thing, aren't you?" There was a smile in her voice. "And I like how you get straight to the point. I always had trouble with that. My mama would say Teaches, I asked you what time it was, not how a watch works.'" A flash of white teeth in the dimness. "And so pretty. Just look at you." I didn't know how she could see me when I could barely make out her face-all I could see was the pale oval of her cheeks, the bump of her nose. "You've got style. I always wondered what you girls would be like, whether you'd think the same, dress the same, act the same."

I ignored the phrase "you girls." There was no "you girls"-Kelly was still a stranger.

"I'm glad to know you two are so different. Kelly's the quiet one, and you're the spitfire. It makes for a nice balance. Good feng shui."

Feng shui? Please. I might technically be a twin, but I still considered myself an original. I smoothed the sheets over my knees and kept my "unbalanced" thoughts to myself.

Peaches looked down, fingering the pink chiffon. "I love the dress," she offered.

"Good. I'm glad." I wished I had the nerve to turn on a light. "It's vintage," I added automatically, "1960s, chiffon with satin banding."

"It's beautiful. I thought you might like to see me in it, the way I would've looked if..." Peaches trailed off, while I swallowed the lump in my throat. Then she stood and held out her arms, modeling the dress. The room was lighter now, morning making its arrival known even through the curtains. "I'd like you to remember me like this-like a real person"-a graceful pirouette of hot pink chiffon-"not a wax dummy in a box." Her voice broke, then steadied. "Let this be both our hello and our good-bye, Nicki, and forgive me for being such a poor excuse for a mama."

I stared at her, trying not to cry. Dark hair, hot pink clothes, flair for drama. I had the oddest sensation of deja vu. And then I realized-it was like looking through a glass darkly, and seeing an older, slightly different version of me on the other side.

"There's nothing to forgive." I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't. "I'm not mad at you, never have been. I had two great parents who thought I hung the moon, and I have a great life with great friends." I took a deep breath and added softly, "It's okay you gave me up for adoption. I'm okay. You can go into the Light with a clear conscience."

Peaches tilted her head. "Your parents must've loved you very much."

Another lump rose in my throat. I didn't answer.

"Their love fills this house even now, like the scent of fresh-baked cookies."

"Nicki's Amazing Chocolate Chunks," my mom had called them. Sunday afternoons, usually during football season, it'd been a ritual for her and me to make them for my dad.

"I know you'll be all right, Nicki. You were the lucky one." Peaches looked away, toward the curtained window. "Kelly's the one I'm worried about."

Of course. I resisted a roll of the eyes. I didn't know my sister all that well, but I already knew she was tougher than she looked.

"She doesn't have a great life with great friends and loving memories to fall back on." In profile, Peaches looked like Kelly-they shared the same stubborn jut of chin. "She doesn't have anybody now, except for you."

Uh-oh. I could see where this was going. When did I become responsible for the whole world, hm?

"Kelly will be okay. I took her in, didn't I? It's not like she's been thrown to the wolves or anything." Edgy, yet curious, I asked, "Have you been to see her since you... um... ?"

Peaches shook her head. "She can't see me. I've tried. Only you can see me. Haven't you figured it out yet?"

"Figured it out?"

"Kelly can only see men-male spirits. You can only see women."

That made sense. All the spirits who'd come to me so far had been women-Irene, Caprice, Tammy, Psycho Barbie.

"I didn't want this for you girls." Peaches moved toward the footboard, fingering the newel post. "It's one of the reasons I gave you up, you know, so that maybe you'd grow up lucky and not have to deal with it." She sounded almost as if she was talking to herself. "But Mama was right, blood will tell, every time."

A prickle of hair rose on the back of my neck.

"Only there's two of you. Two halves of a whole... two sides, two gifts. Two curses."

"Curses?" I wasn't liking the sound of that. I wasn't liking the sound of any of this.

Peaches laughed a little, but it wasn't a cheerful sound. "That's the way I usually saw it-a curse, though it wasn't all bad. I like to think I helped a few people along the way. Passing messages from the other side, giving comfort when I could. Besides," she shrugged, "it helped pay the bills."

A psychic. Great. That was just great. I could see the neon sign in my mind: MADAME PEACHES IS IN. FORTUNES AND FAIRY TALES TOLD HERE.

"Trouble is, sometimes the dead can be mighty determined to get the living's attention. And not always for good reasons. I wish you and Kelly didn't have the knack, but at least now you girls have each other." Peaches let go of the newel post and stepped back, away from the light filtering in through the curtains. "You're going to need to stick together, I think."

"The 'knack' ? What does that mean?" This was a little too All in the Family meets Night of the Living Dead for me. "You make it sound like it's something special to see spirits when I, for one, think it sucks. And since when did it become so important that Kelly and I stick together?"

Peaches took another step back, into the shadows. "You girls are bound to each other, two halves of a whole."

"I've known her less than a week. We don't even know if we're gonna like each other yet." I could barely see Peaches now, the hot pink chiffon losing its vibrancy to the dimness.

"Open your heart, Nicki. Good and evil exist, both inside and out. It doesn't hurt to have family on your side." Her voice was fading, along with the shadows. "Fate split you apart, but now it's brought you together again. The proof is in the puddin'."

Tired Southern homilies just weren't gonna cut it.

"Listen, I'll do my best, okay? You don't need to worry about us, we'll be fine. You can rest easy." I sincerely hoped she would. The last thing I needed was another ghost looking over my shoulder. Softening my tone, I added, "Don't be afraid to go into the Light, Peaches."

"I'm not afraid."

I couldn't see her anymore. Daylight suffused the room, driving back the darkness. With every passing moment her essence was fading. I could barely even hear her when she said, "I just wanted to say goodbye. You girls be good to each other, and we'll see each other again someday."

And then she was gone, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of peaches and regret.

I put my face down in my hands and cried like a baby for about five minutes.

Then I got up and took a shower. I had yet another funeral to go to.

--- Six people were gathered to lay Lila "Peaches" Boudreaux to rest, and one of them was a total stranger-the black-suited, balding minister Kelly had hired for the occasion. He was droning scripture from a well-worn Bible, and I couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd read the same passages about hope and glory and everlasting life over the graves of people he'd never met.

I took a deep breath and looked up, appreciating the view of blue sky and clouds more than the sight of the closed coffin, poised to be lowered. A beautiful Georgia morning in early fall-my favorite time of year. Joe squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, oddly at peace under the circumstances.

Not so Kelly. She cried steadily into a wad of tissues, a single white rose in her lap. The rose had come from the spray of flowers Evan and his boyfriend Butch brought, which now lay on top of the casket. Butch hovered over Kelly's shoulder like a muscle-bound mother hen, while Evan flashed me a worried, apologetic look.

But I was okay. All was as it should be... Kelly needed their support right now much more than I did.

"Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes in the One who sent me has eternal life and will not come to condemnation, but has passed from death to life."

The minister had his eyes glued to what he was reading, or he might have seen what I saw-the black limousine that turned off the main road and glided to a stop right behind him, a few hundred yards away. Someone visiting one of Forest Lawn's dearly departed residents, no doubt.

"Do not be amazed, because the hour is coming in which all who are in the tombs will hear His voice and come out, those who have done good deeds to the resurrection of life, but those who have done wicked deeds to the resurrection of condemnation."

There it was again-"the dead shall rise again" thing. All I could envision was a bad zombie movie. If corpses ever start clawing their way out of graves, I won 7 be one of the ones standing around shouting "Hallelujah,"

"Amen."

"Amen," echoed Kelly through her tears. Joe murmured the same and gave my hand another squeeze. Right on cue, a breeze swept through the cemetery, flattening the grass and sending fallen leaves dancing. I lifted my head and let the air cool my cheeks, breathing in the scent of early autumn and late peaches.

It felt like good-bye, and it felt right that Joe was there, that we were all there-my boyfriend, my sister, my best friend, and his partner.

An ending to what I'd known, and the beginning of something unknowable.

Life.

A pretty damned complicated one, too.

The minister came over to Kelly and shook her hand, then offered it to me. "I'm very sorry for your loss," he said.

"Thank you." Despite an ill-fitting suit and a bad comb-over, the man had a kind face. He turned to Joe and offered him condolences, too. Joe walked him aside while I turned to Kelly, who was swiping at her nose.

"You okay?"

She looked up at me, puffy-eyed. "I think so." Then, "Are you?"

I squatted so we were level and nodded, resting a hand on the arm of her wheelchair. "Did you smell it?"

She gave me a confused look. Stupid question. Her nose was red as a beet and still dripping.

"I smelled peaches," I said. "Just a second ago-right after the minister said 'amen.'"

"You did?" Her face crumpled. She scrabbled in her lap for a fresh tissue, eyes locked on mine. I was disappointed she hadn't smelled it. I was sure the farewell had been meant for both of us.

I snagged a Kleenex and handed it to her. She was crying harder than ever.

"Do you think it was her?" Kelly sounded so hopeful, I was glad to be able to give her an honest answer.

"Yes. It was her."

She blew her nose and her crying began to ease, but I was feeling guilty-it would be selfish to keep my predawn visit from Peaches to myself. Tempted as I was to keep the experience private, Kelly should hear about it.

"There's more."

Kelly immediately got the gist, eyes widening above the wad of tissue. I glanced toward the departing minister and murmured, "I'll tell you about it on the way home."

A mechanical hum began, and I turned my head to find the casket being lowered. Two men with a small backhoe-obviously funeral home employees-stood in the shade a discreet distance away, one of them holding a remote. Even funerals had become automated and electronic these days. How creepy.

The white coffin sank down, smooth as silk, until it disappeared. You couldn't see the actual hole in the ground, because green draping covered everything, including the framework that did the lowering. When the mechanical hum stopped, I knew it was done. It was finished.

I stood up, ready to go home.

"I knew it," a woman said sadly. "I knew my darling Peaches was gone. I felt it in my bones."

I turned, not having heard anybody approach.

The woman at the foot of the grave was elderly and plump. She wore black, including gloves and an old-fashioned hat, complete with veil. The veil was pinned to her hat with a glittering brooch, polished jet and sterling silver by the look of it.

Jet, for mourning.

"You knew our mother?" Kelly spoke for us both. I was relieved, because for a second I'd been afraid the woman wasn't real. If Kelly could see her, then I was safe-she was flesh and blood. The limousine I'd seen earlier was still parked by the road, rear passenger door ajar.

"Peaches was my daughter."

Kelly's breath caught in her throat, matching my shocked gasp.

The woman took a few steps closer, clutching a black beaded purse with both hands. "She told me she'd found her girls, and nothing would do but that she go after the two of you." The old woman's voice was pure Low Country Southern, all molasses and manners. "I warned her not to go looking for trouble, but she didn't listen." She stared at the grave, voice breaking. "She never listened to me once she'd set her mind on something. Always one to go her own way, was my Peaches."

The woman dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, and I couldn't help but notice that the handkerchief was black, too. The old lady had style-an old-fashioned style, but style nonetheless.

"Excuse me?" I wasn't sure I was hearing this correctly. "You're our grandmother?"