Having read The House in the Cerulean Sea, another TJ Klune book, I’m learning to enjoy and relax into Klune’s apparently trademark style, one that includes magical elements inserted into everyday life, a random group of people with little in common who come together as family for an important purpose, some queer characters, and a generally warm, peaceful setting. Such is Charon’s Crossing, a tea and pastry store, a facade that houses a more serious purpose. Hugo, the proprietor, has named his store cleverly, as he is a ferryman, one who assists dead people to their next step in the journey immediately after their death. Charon was the mythological ferryman who brought the dead over the river Styx to Hades, land of the dead. His co-worker Mei is a reaper— not a grim one by any means— but a charming, quirky and no BS reaper, who escorts the dead person from either their place of death, the funeral, wherever she catches them, bringing them to Charon’s Crossing to meet Hugo. Rounding out the family are two dead, Hugo’s grandfather Nelson, and his dead dog, Apollo.

Entering this family circle is Wallace Price, a recently deceased attorney who has lived a greedy, selfish, and mostly loveless life. He is divorced, overworked, ruthless in court and in life, without an ounce of compassion for anyone. He cares only about winning in court, wearing the best clothing, and not much else. When he drops dead at work of a heart attack, there is no one to help him, working after hours alone. Mei meets him at his funeral, and whisks him off to the tea shop, deep in the woods far from anything familiar to Wallace.

As the ferryman, it is Hugo’s job to help Wallace adjust to his new reality, reach acceptance, and prepare for the great journey ahead, into the unknown, through a door in the roof on the fourth floor of the tea shop. No one knows what the dead persons see, but their reactions are great wonder, surprise, and joy. As events unfold day to day, we watch Wallace’s transformation, a testimony to the power of love. All the characters are quirky— aggressive and fiercely loving Mei, curmudgeonly and wise Nelson, energetic and loyal Apollo, and peaceful, sensitive Hugo— as Klune just manages to avoid cliche, or at least, the reader won’t mind much. We enjoy the twists and turns in Wallace’s journey, as he makes the needed growth of character to take the next, brave step into the unknown.

I will leave the rest of the story to the reader, as the surprises are much of the pleasure of this story. Klune works to normalize queer characters, integrating them into the story without a “big message” beating the reader on the head to accept. If you’d prefer to take a pass on LGBTQ+ characters, you’ve been warned. It proceeds like a delicious cup of hot chai and a buttery croissant, warm and delightful. That is the art of Klune— normalizing queer relations. Who can argue with characters so completely good and loving? For those adhering to Judeo-Christian tradition, marriage between one man and one woman, we must differ with his viewpoint. Reader, be warned.