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If Jamie noticed how canned my response sounded, he didn’t say anything or question me. He focused his attention on me, obviously processing the things I was telling him. Moments like these, I wished I could also read his mind, so I knew exactly what it was he thought about this entire situation.
“People kept leaving you. Like Dave leaving you when you needed him most.” Jamie’s head rested against mine, his hair tickling my neck. I took in a deep breath. He continued, “You know Dave of all people shouldn’t have left you, right? I know I’m not one to talk… but…”
“You’re not one to talk,” I agreed. “But… Dave was my husband. For sickness, for health. Till death do us part… we made a vow. And he couldn’t handle me anymore.” My last words grew almost as silent as a whisper. “When he left me, I just… it was like the last string… the one barely holding me together anyway… like that string snapped.”
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes.
“I know I could be crazy,” I said. “I know I hurt him… the way I scared him. My depression. My suicidal tendencies. But… he left me. That’s the point. Hecouldleave me… he could live without me.” I wiped away the tears falling down my face. “That’s the thing, Jamie. People can live without me.”
“Not me,” he murmured.
“Yeah, well, I don’t even know how to respond to that right now.” I sighed. “Anyway, enough of me getting all sad. Earlier today, you said no doom and gloom and here I am, leaning toward the dark and depressing.”
“You know, Jems, after the incident earlier with the lanterns, I think all that doom and gloom stuff came back full force. There’s no stopping it now.”
“Ha. Yeah. I guess.” I stirred the noodles again, just as the sauce came to a simmer next to it.
“Allow me,” Jamie said, placing his hands over mine once more.
“Oh, you want to have control again? I’ll have to start calling you Ghost-Guy-Parasite.”
“Not your brain, dear,” he said. “Just your arms.”
He leaned into me, as the water with the noodles began to bubble. I rested against him, our arms linked together now as we simply stood, holding each other, as if neither of us ever had anywhere else to be for the rest of eternity.
“Do you know how badly I wanted to call you?” he whispered.
“Do you know how badly I wanted to hear from you?” My words nearly broke, a sharp sadness running behind my eyes. There was a desperation in my voice. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear from me again.”
“No, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.”
* * *
I rested the paper bowl of pasta in my lap, allowing the warmth to soothe my nerves as I lay against the headrest of my bed. Jamie and I had opted to come upstairs, considering I had no other furniture in the rest of the house. For all the other ghosts to sit, as he’d put it the other day.
I slurped up some noodles from the fork and swallowed down a chunk of pasta. Not even caring that Jamie sat right next to me, watching me eat like a fucking slob.
“Do you want some?” I asked through a grin, mouth full.
He snapped his fingers and a faux bowl of pasta appeared in his own lap, heat oozing off his porcelain plate which glimmered beneath the lamp above us.
“Nah, I’ve got my own.” He smiled and took a mouthful of pasta, slurping it down so loudly I could hear the noodles slide down his throat.
“And I thought I was a messy eater,” I said.
“Sorry, I’ve got you beat there,” he said. “Don’t you remember… I’m the one who used to carry around the wipes? Just in case.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
One time in particular, we’d gone to grab dinner at the Stony Point café together, and he’d accidentally knocked over his coke all over the table. Of course, he’d produced an entire set of wipes. Wipes I didn’t even realize he carried. From then on, any time either of us had any kind of spillage accident, I knew I could count on him to clean up the mess.
“So… did you show, umm, what’s her name… Danielle… your wipes?” I asked, trying to strike up a conversation. Figuring we’d talked enough about my ex. We might as well touch on his girlfriend a little bit more, too.
He shrugged his shoulders, slurping down another noodle. Now I also wondered if he could taste his food or if he was merely eating so that he had something to do with his hands.
“Yes, I can taste the noodles. As I mentioned before, people still enjoy the same things beyond the grave… and that especially includes eating.” He grinned. “And, yes, Danielle knew about the wipes. She had this crazy idea in her head that she could teach me to be a neater person.” As he chowed down on another noodle, the sauce flicked into the air and landed against my cheek.
“Umm, what?” I started cracking up. “Jamie. You did not just getghostsauce on my face.”
