You should be over there, sitting next to her. Laughing with her. Sharing with her. Remembering with her.
“I know, I’m a big oaf,” he whispered.
He could hear Lilly laughing.
He missed her. That’s all this was. Lilly had always been like a grandma to him, and he loved her, no denying that.
The children gathered around Courtney as she held up a book. He couldn’t see what it was, but all the kids leaned in, and the parents pretended as if they weren’t interested. Owen craned his neck trying to hear her voice over the ahhs of the little voices, but he couldn’t make out the words, or see the book.
A figure broke from the crowd, and a moment later Pat stood in front of Owen, handing him a cup of steaming hot cider. “Why are you hiding?”
“Not hiding. Observing.” Owen inhaled the cloudy smoke coming from the brown liquid before he blew and took a sip. Best damn cider he’d ever had.
“Have you ever seen that book?”
“What book?” Owen peered toward the garage, and he felt like he’d just been checked into the boards at a hockey game.
Courtney stole his breath.
And his heart.
“The one she’s reading,” Pat said. “It’s a collection of stories Lilly put together. It’s pretty amazing.”
“Ghost stories,” Owen mumbled.
“It should be published. It’s a great collection.”
“You know what I don’t get?” Owen ran his free hand over his jaw. “Half of these people used to say Lilly was off her rocker and believed Courtney wasn’t far behind.”
“That’s not entirely true. Maybe they don’t believe in the afterlife, but they all thought Lilly had some really great stories. They’d rather have their kids hang over here on Halloween listening to stories of love and admiration, even if it was with a ghost, than papering the neighbors’ yards.” Pat leaned against the tree. “Courtney hasn’t been around for a while, and maybe she’s laid it on too thick. But I think it’s all harmless fun.”
“You realize she believes her own shit.”
So do you, you big oaf! Lilly’s voice echoed in his ears loud and clear.
“So what? You think the world is evil,” Pat said with a smidgen of venom.
“Do not.” Owen finished off his cider, wishing he had some of those powered donuts he knew were on that table. Her grandmother made them every year, and he suspected Courtney would follow that tradition. What would Halloween be without them?
“Go over there and make nice.”
“You know she did it again.” Owen rested his shoulder against the tree next to Pat. “She set up some ridiculous break-in, this time called the dispatcher, and had me come over to check it out. I could bring her in for that.”
“She wouldn’t call 9-1-1 if she just wanted to get you to the house, would she?”
“She did.”
No, she didn’t, and you know it. Stop holding on to things because you’re afraid she’s going to leave you again.
What? Not going to call me an oaf again?
Why call the kettle black?
“You don’t know that. Granted, she’s done some pretty crazy stuff to get your attention, but you haven’t made it easy for her. Remember the Fourth of July picnic?”
Owen smiled. Courtney had shown up with a date. The guy was a moron, and they got into a fight in the middle of the picnic.
“You think she staged that argument?” Owen asked. He’d always wondered, but at the time, Owen had been dating the town clerk and he didn’t know why. The day Courtney moved back, he asked Sue out and regretted it from the moment she screeched yes. Nice girl, but too needy, clingy, and not…not Courtney.
Starting to see the light?
He wanted to tell the voice to go to hell, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.
“The fight?” his brother asked. “Doubtful. I think the dork really liked her, so I can’t imagine he’d go along with anything like that. I don’t think she showed up with him to make you jealous.”
“I’m too old for this.”
“Then put an end to it.”
Owen opened his mouth to say something, but no words came to mind. Without a word, Pat meandered back to the party and about an hour later, no one but Courtney, he, and the tree were left.
She glanced his way a few times but didn’t acknowledge his existence.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered and stomped his way toward her garage. “So? Things went well, huh?”
“Yep,” she said, still basically ignoring him.
He supposed he deserved it in a way. “Pat said you read from a book that had some cool stories.”
“It’s over there.” She nodded toward the table. “I found it in one of the boxes my grandma left behind with my name on it.”
Owen lifted the book in his trembling hand and stared at a hand-drawn picture of two children, with fingers clasped together, running down the street with a shadow looking over them. It wasn’t ominous or anything. It looked as if the shadow’s sole purpose had been to protect the children. Children who looked hauntingly like him and Courtney. “Did she do this herself?’
“I think so. And there are more.”
“Really?” He thumbed through the pages of stories. Most he’d heard before. Most of them referred to the others that watched over their loved ones. “This is amazing.”
“She was amazing.”
“I miss her.” He put the book down on the table and slowly turned toward the woman he knew he’d always wanted. A sense of freedom filled his heart. “I don’t like being manipulated.”
“I know.” She set aside the sweeper in her hands but made no attempt to close the gap. “I didn’t manipulate you this evening. I have no idea how my furniture got turned over, and that makes me damn nervous.”
He didn’t think she’d make this
