Radiance (Riley Bloom #1)(11)
“When do I leave?” I asked, instantly ashamed when I realized I hadn’t given a second thought to what I would tell my parents and grandparents until the words were already out.
“No reason to delay,” Celia said, checking with the others who nodded their agreement.
“The sooner the better,” Samson chimed in.
“Now would be good,” agreed Royce.
And even though I was excited, I still had to ask, “But, what about my family? What’ll I tell them?”
Turning as Claude motioned toward the screen that was now split down the middle—one side showing my dad enjoying some kind of jam session with a bunch of other musicians, while the other side showed my mom painting in some brightly lit studio, her smock splattered with virtually every color in the rainbow as a smile lit up her face. And even though I had no idea what it meant, my insides started to do that weird clenching/curling thing again.
I pressed my lips together, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Wondering why they weren’t where they said they would be, why they’d choose to lie and play hooky from what they’d told me. But then, before I could blink, the screen split again, and I saw each set of grandparents engaged in some pretty surprising activities of their own, especially once their age was factored in. Enjoying stuff like: surfing, and hiking, and ranching, and symphony composing, as well as overseeing a nursery full of brand-spanking newborns.
“They’ve already been placed,” Aurora said. “They’re enjoying their soul work now. There’s no need to worry about them.”
Soul work? I blinked. Things were getting weirder by the second. I mean, initially, I was worried about them worrying about me. But from what I could see, I’d be surprised if they even noticed I was gone.
“Your family already understands what’s just now becoming clear to you. Sometimes, back on the earth plane, real life gets in the way of who we are truly meant to be, but Here you can do what you’ve always dreamed of, you can fulfill your destiny.” She smiled.
And even though she clearly thought this was a Really Great Thing, and clearly expected for me to agree—I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Knowing all of that just made me feel even more alone, completely unnecessary, and more than a little unwanted.
“So—you’re saying that back home, back on the earth plane, me, and Ever, and Buttercup—got in the way?” Instantly ashamed by the way my voice suddenly cracked, but still, the whole idea of it made my insides go all weird again.
But Aurora just smiled, as did everyone else, nodding toward Celia who said, “Of course not.”
“Your parents and grandparents love you, and they wouldn’t change a thing!” Samson nodded.
“But Here, you have your own guide, which frees your family up to live out their destinies. It doesn’t all end with death, you know. We have tasks, things to accomplish, learning to do. Your parents have found their place, and now you’ve found yours. All is as it should be,” Royce said, pressing his hands together and bowing toward me.
“But—what about my house? And—and my dog—” I shook my head, unable to finish, unable to understand how it got to this point. At first I was so excited, sure I’d won the afterlife lottery by getting to go back, only to have it all ripped out from under me as everything familiar slipped away too.
“You’re free to come back and visit between assignments,” Aurora said, glowing in the most beautiful, mesmerizing way. “And Buttercup,” she smiled, “is free to travel alongside you.”
“Really?” I cocked my head to the side, wondering how Buttercup might feel about that. “Does he have a destiny to fulfill too?” I asked.
Only to be met by the sound of Royce’s deep, hearty laugh when he shook his head and said, “Dogs are a gift to mankind. They are happy and joyful and loyal by nature. They are pure, positive energy and teach by example. That is all that’s required of them.”
I nodded, doing my best to take it all in. It may not have been what I’d first thought, or even what I’d hoped for, but still, it could’ve been a lot worse.
My thoughts interrupted by Aurora when she said, “Riley, how about we let go of your past and look instead toward your future. What do you say? Are you ready to make that leap?”
And before I could answer, before I could do much of anything, Buttercup ran out from behind the red velvet curtain, tail wagging like mad, licking my face, and knocking me down in the way that always made me laugh. And by the time I finally got him to calm down, everyone was gone.
Not even waiting long enough for me to respond.
And that’s when I realized the question had been rhetorical.
My place had been determined.
Whether I liked it or not.
9
I stood outside with Buttercup beside me, both of us on high alert, waiting for some kind of sign.
Both of us equally clueless with absolutely no idea where to go, which way to turn, or what to do next.
And while it may seem weird for a person to look to their dog for guidance, the thing was, Buttercup’s the one that led my family to the bridge. He’s the one that leaped across first. So, with that in mind, I figured he might have some kind of unique, canine ability, some kind of yellow Lab instinct. Like a dog-only radar for these kinds of things.