“Paul Michael?” Greg asked. His voice made my chest tighten, and I let out an audible gasp, much to the amusement of my brother. “What are you doing here?”
After a year in the afterlife, seeing Greg was like coming home. I was filled with relief at the sight of his curly hair, unruly as always, sticking up from all angles. The instinct to smooth it down was itching inside me. For a fleeting second, I felt alive again. Until, of course, I remembered that Greg couldn’t see me.
“It’s good to see you, Greg,” Paul Michael said. He had been close with Greg before I died; I liked to imagine Paul Michael looked at Greg like the younger brother he never had. I didn’t know how much they had seen each other after I left. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”
I had told Greg about Paul Michael’s abilities; they were stories told as jokes as I tried to make sense of my brother’s oddness. Greg had laughed with me, so I wasn’t surprised when his response was a monosyllabic sound of confusion.
Paul Michael wasn’t surprised by his doubt either. He explained to Greg so clearly how he could see me and talk to me, that I knew he had rehearsed this speech beforehand. A thought fluttered through my head as I watched my boyfriend and my brother interact.
Paul Michael knew that I would come back.
Finally, Paul Michael got Greg to play along. Greg told him that he would love to hear whatever I had to say.
Greg observed my brother with those long-lashed brown eyes I could have spent the rest of my life looking at. Watching his eyes closely now, a jolt of panic rushed through me. I would never have the satisfaction of him looking back at me.
“Well, what do you want me to say to him?” Paul Michael asked me.
As I stared at Greg, I knew that if I opened my mouth to speak, it would come as a blubbery garble of words. Instead, I walked silently to Greg to rest my head on his chest.