Page 37 of The House on Haven Way

“Okay.” Johnny doesn’t ask anything else. He waits. Strokes my hair.

“I heard that spinal issues and nerve damage could make it hard to have a comfortable pregnancy. Not impossible. Just hard. The way I was feeling before I made it to Pine Ridge? I would never have wanted kids. I wouldn’t have been able to reliably take care of them. I might not have been able to get up with them in the night, or drive them to all of their practices... But since I’ve had such great care here,” I lean back against his chest, “I think it’s possible. I’m much better. I’m getting much better.”

“That’s good, sweetie. But the thing is—”

“But the thing is, I’m not sure I want to have kids soon—because I’m not sure I’m ready to be a mom. I’m on Amber, Version 2.0. Amber, Post-Accident. By the time I know for sure what I want to do, I might be thirty-two, thirty-five. Sometimes you can’t get pregnant easily after thirty-five, and then there are things like scar tissue, adhesions...” I shake my head and sigh, a different kind of sigh now.

“You know what else makes it hard?” Johnny says.

“Hm?”

“A lover who shoots blanks. Cosmic blanks. You—”

“Need a partner who shoots what? Live rounds? Honey, there’s adoption, there are sperm donors. I’m not worried about that part. Do you want kids?”

“I thought I did, before. I never had the option after I... Well. Look at us. Talking about the maybes and the nevers. I know what I really want, sweetheart. My girl to be happy. And I don’t know if I could keep you happy,” Johnny says, lips against my ear.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think that in my entire adult life, I’ve never found someone like you, someone I was just happy being around—and who also rocked my entire galaxy in the bedroom.”

“I can’t work. Can’t support you.”

“I don’t know about that. This is Pine Ridge. Seems like other supernatural types hold down jobs.” I giggle to myself. “Can’t you just see it? Us, with a spirit bottle? Me, driving you over to work each day and uncorking you? By honey, I’ll be back later tonight to pick you up.”

“What kind of job could I do?” Johnny asks.

“I don’t know. You can move things. You fix up the house. You cook. I bet you could do a lot of jobs that don’t require a degree—or, hey! If you wanted to get a degree, there’s a college in town now. I’m going in January. I have a degree, but I want to go back to school for something else. I’m not sure what, but that’s something else I learned. Life can end suddenly. I barely remember the last eight years of my life, not because of a head injury, but because it was always a blur of work, rush, meetings, stress...” I trail off. “I have enough money to live on to take my time. And you?”

“I got nothing but time for you, baby,” Johnny croons.

“Mmm, we could watch this movie tomorrow, huh?” I say, reaching for my laptop.

Which is when someone knocks on the door.

Johnny soars off the couch.

“Hi! It’s Manny, from the garage in town?” Manny’s deep, jovial voice calls out.

“Why don’t you answer that?” I suggest.

Johnny’s form is wispy, then solid, and shining. “Manny,” he breathes out incredulously.

It’s almost like getting to watch Johnny’s life start all over again.

I just wonder if that’s enough of a reason to stay, especially once he has the answers he’s been searching for.

“Johnny Miller, you sly dog!” Manny throws his arms around me, and it’s a good thing I’m semi-solid and already dead, because this way his bear hug doesn’t kill me. “I had no idea you were up here all this time. Good gosh. Hey, I have your pay from that last week. I realize now I should have given it to your brothers, but with all the upheaval, I forgot.” Manny pulls out a bank envelope and passes it to me.

“I’m a ghost. What would I spend it on?” I ask.

Manny’s head tilts. Catches sight of Amber. Looks back at me with one dark brow raised on his greenish square of a forehead.

“Right. I’ll tuck this away,” I say, and put the envelope on the windowsill.

“Come on in,” Amber encourages. “I’m so happy Johnny can reconnect with you.”

“Oh, a lot of people can’t wait to meet him. Mr. Minegold is whipping up your spirit bottle, John. Ought to be ready by the end of the month. These things can take time to prepare.”

“That’s great. That’s real great, Manny.” I have to fumble to find conversation again, to find company manners.