The Soul Collector - By Tamela Quijas Page 0,53

me. You do recall the effects of young love, don’t you?”

Frank guffawed loudly. His laughter resounded for a few moments, intensifying the blush burning his sister's ears. “Yep, pains in the asses when they're around you then you feel like dying when they ain't.”

…. nailed it on the head, didn't he?

Eva stilled another laugh at the comment.

“Most certainly,” Lucien pressed a feather-light kiss to her ear. “Evie, you might as well let go of the man.”

….can't. He'd scare you to death, Frankie

“I prefer to have Evie on my arm.”

….humph

“She gonna let go of you long enough so you can eat.”

“I hope so.” Luke smiled warmly.

“Mom outdid herself this year.” Frank lauded the woman's abilities loudly, his praise applauded by their father from across the room.

….she always does

Apparent only her eyes, Eva watched Reese's shadowy spirit shift across the room. His sepia image brushed across her father's lined features before seeking her mother's more rounded shape. The spirit's vague features were serious and filled with emotions she didn't have trouble interpreting.

The faintest of breaths escaped him, invisible to the human eye, and he leaned in close to the older woman. Her mother paused in the midst of the conversation she was having with Beth, Evie’s sister. Whatever she had been about to say remained forgotten, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the air as a slow tear slipped down her lined cheek. Her hands, soft and twisted with age, absently swiped at the offending drop. Beneath her breath, the quivering whisper of her son's name slipped free.

Eva understood, for the briefest of seconds, her mother had felt his presence. Reese was home, as he promised he would be, savoring every stolen second. She blinked threatening tears away and turned to Frank, catching the tail end of the conversation he was having with Lucien.

“….ham, potatoes, green beans, and three types of pies.”

There was the suspicious sound of Eva's stomach as it grumbled loudly, and her date had the audacity to chuckle.

“Pecan?” He breathed and sniffed appreciatively at the air.

“Mom makes the best pecan pie this side of Georgia.”

Lucien released his hold on Eva's waist and turned her about, although his hand never left hers.

“I haven't had a good pastry in centuries.” He commented with honesty only she comprehended.

“You'll have to fight Dad and Mariah’s husband for it. Heaven only knows, the two of them polished off one in a single sitting.”

Eva chuckled, the sound watery. Lucien spared her a cautious glance, noting her over bright eyes. The evening was beginning to exact a toll on her.

“We ain't eating yet, you know. Besides, this boy of mine wants to pass some time with you.” Frank blurted out, dragging his son forward. “It seems he loves to watch that show of yours, and he's a big fan!”

Lucien inclined his head, his expression curious.

“Talk to him, boy!”

Jimmy swung his long arms nervously at his sides, lifting one long finger hand to brush an errant lock from his eyes. He stammered uncomfortably, and appeared to have great difficulty in forming a coherent thought as he stared at his television idol.

“Francis, don’t embarrass your son.” Eva chastised gently, shaking her head at her brother.

Frank looked between the pair, a familiar scowl forming between his own brows. “My name is Frank, not Francis.”

She smirked, wrinkling her nose. “What? You don’t like the name?”

“Never could stand it.” He admitted with a scowl. “I took some of the most awful ribbing for that damn name.”

“I seem to recall Reese wouldn’t let you live it down,” she interjected, her eyes twinkling. “Do you remember how he would stand on the porch and call for you, making sure everyone down the street heard him?”

Frank’s face nearly went an unimaginable shade of purple. A grumble rose from his barrel-like chest, but stilled as quickly as it had started. Eva detected the faint sound of laughter in the deep recesses of her hearing and knew something unusual had occurred.

“Damnedest thing,” Frank voiced absently and ran a mutton-sized hand over his cheek.

“What?” Eva blinked innocently, keeping her eyes deliberate wide. Lucien looked back and forth between the pair, catching the glimmer in Eva's over bright eyes.

“I swear I almost hear him yelling for me.” Her brother turned away from her, blinking. “I wonder what it would be like, if Reese would've been here?”

Forever trapped in his youth, Reese's flickering image was dancing, shouting Francis at the top of his lungs. He laughed and reeled about, joining his family in the night of holiday festivities.

***

“They wanted