“I came because my father wanted to attend the ceremony.”
“But your father’s dead, so ...” Manon downed her glass of wine in one go. “Did he tell you that in his will?”
“No, he told me himself.”
“Your father told you that when my mother died, he wanted you to go to the funeral?”
“Not exactly. He wanted to be there himself.”
“But he’s dead . . .”
“Yes, has been for five years.”
Manon waved the waiter over to bring her a second drink.
“I’m sorry, but something isn’t clicking for me.”
“If I tell you my story, you’ll think I’m crazy, which would be a shame, since you’re probably the only person in the world I could ever share it with.”
Manon guzzled her second glass and placed it back on the table. She then wiped her lips with the back of her hand like a pirate and looked right into Thomas’s eyes, daring him to continue.
Thomas held her gaze and told how it all had started—the story of a strange cigarette and a ghostly apparition.
“I realize it’s hard to accept,” he said. “I had a terrible time believing it myself.”
“So, your father came back from the afterworld to ask you to take him to my mother’s funeral?” Manon said as the waiter filled her glass again.
“I get the sense that the afterworld is quite different from what we imagine. I’ve tried to drag more out of him several times, but he refuses to say any more. He says if he spills the beans, they’ll call him right back.”
“They ...,” she said, then clicked her tongue.
“Yes, well, I’m afraid that’s as much as I know. But if it makes you feel any better, Dad didn’t come back in a shroud, or dragging a ball and chain behind him,” Thomas said, with an uneasy laugh.
“So, howdidhe appear?” Manon asked pointedly. “I’m simply curious, of course.”
“Like I said, in the armchair he used to read in. The first time, anyway.”
“Yes, but how did helook?” Manon pressed.
“Ah, I see. Like he always did. White button-down shirt, tweed pants, tailored jacket. But a little younger than when he died.”
Manon nodded, pursed her lips, and took a big sip of wine.
“And he flew on the plane with you?”
“Yes, and thank goodness he did. A passenger passed out during the flight and we saved him. Or, rather, Dad did. I just followed his instructions.”
“And why wouldn’t you? You’re not a doctor, after all.” Manon’s words were thick with sarcasm that Thomas failed to notice.
“That’s what the lady next to me kept pointing out, but no one listened to her. She worked herself into quite a state. I thought it was rather funny.”
“I bet. And then what? Did you land the plane too?”
“No, but what happened next is even more unlikely. I hardly know where to begin.”
“Stop! I’ve heard enough. With an imagination like that, you should give up the piano and become a writer. Really, you’d be a huge success. And that’s coming from a bookseller. That said, I hope you won’t mind if I’m not among your future readers. Fantasy isn’t my cup of tea.”
“You don’t believe a single word I’ve said, do you?”
