Page 119 of Some Kind of Haunted

While I wait, I watch the diner around me. Kids in costumes. A couple grumpy old people complaining about the crowds. Marleen taking care of business in her inimitable way. Nothing feels creepy. No forked tongues or slurping. This is what a small town should be, whether there’s a festival or not.

I feel like we made Midas the cute little Hallmark movie it should have been all along.

Jack presents me with the perfect burger, again, and then slides into the booth beside me. I make him eat some of the food. We don’t really talk. There’s too much to say and it’s been a long few days, so we lean on each other and observe.

We watch Midas come alive again all around us. And it’s wonderful.

When we clear the plate, Jack handles it and then leads me out the back of the diner and onto his motorcycle. I hold on to him, tight, my chin on his shoulder.

And we ride through the dark.

Through shadows that flirt with the moon and make the trees look mysterious, but leave us entirely alone.

Like we really are safe. Like we didn’t just blow up the deal, we slapped the demons down, too. Maybe even for good.

A girl can hope.

When he pulls to a stop in a narrow driveway, I am in shock.

I never in a million years would have pictured Jack Bellamy living in a little gingerbread-style house on a quiet street on the outskirts of Midas. A light illuminates a wide porch with a swing on it, and the hint of a garden in front of a big picture window.

He leads me inside, and the decor is decidedly sparse and male, which helps with the shock a little. It’s a little bigger than Amelia’s house, but not by much. It’s cozy. It’s safe and it smells a bit like him.

I decide I could stay here forever.

Jack insists I take a shower and change into one of his shirts that nearly comes down to my knees. He tucks me into bed, then showers himself.

Like this is just life now. Spending the night at his house. Being his.

Maybe this is what normal people do in their sweet, normal lives, without all the nightmares and demons and harbinger shit. I curl up in his wide bed, beneath a comforter I suspect he bought on sale at the kind of big box store I have never set foot in, and am more content than I can remember being.

Ever.

When he comes back out, he’s running a towel through his wet, unruly hair. He doesn’t quite meet my gaze as he does this.

“You’ll be able to go back to New York now, if you want,” he tells me. This is clearly something he thought over in the shower. “The demon deal is broken. They can’t keep you here. Nothing can keep anyone here or away.”

I’m fascinated by this. And curious. “Would you come visit me?”

Jack rakes a hand through his hair, then drops the towel into a basket. He crosses to the bed, but he doesn’t say a word.

“We could go to Times Square,” I tell him. I sit up and draw my knees up to my chest so I can hide my smile behind my legs. “Everybody loves Times Square. You think Midas on a festival day is busy? You’ve never seen so many people in one place.”

He looks down at me and I can see another truth on his face. This man would rather fight demons nightly than set foot in Times Square—which is fair, I only go to Midtown when forced—but if I wanted him to do it, he would.

For me, he would suck it up.

It’s better than a love poem.

I laugh and pull him down onto the bed. I kiss him and pour all my feelings into the kiss. When I pull away, I look deep into his eyes. “I don’t want to go back to New York,” I tell him. “I mean, I will. To visit my dad. When I put together my next textile show. But I don’t want to go back there for good. I like it here.”

He puts his forehead to mine and I can feel his relief. “Good. I didn’t want to say it, but here is where I want you, Lexi. Right here.”

“Maybe Dad will remember everything now that the deal has been broken,” I say. I want to say that his parents might remember things, too, but don’t. Because maybe he’s the one who’d rather forget them. I keep going. “Maybe he’ll even come back here. You can meet him.” I stop. “Oh. But you’ve already met him, haven’t you?”

Because he would have.

Jack shrugs. “I was a little kid. I’d like to meet him again now.” His eyes are so bright, so green. “Tell him how great his daughter is.”