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I lead them up the meandering staircase to Joseph’s office. When Joseph opens the door, I hand him the babies.
“Your turn. I’m ready for my close-up,” I joke.
“You’ll be the star of the show, but I have to tell you, you’ve got a little,” Joseph points to a baby food stain on the corner of my shirt.
“Let me get changed first?” I ask Jen.
“For sure. I get it. I have a three-year-old, and none of my clothes stay clean for over thirty seconds.”
I change into a fresh blouse and join the crew back in Joseph’s office. Spencer adjusts the camera on a portable tripod, aiming it so he can get a wide shot of the back wall, which we’ve placed a dining room chair in front of.
“Let’s get you mic’d,” Jen says. She clips a microphone pack to the back of my shirt and threads the mic through my blouse to rest on the collar. The microphone is minuscule, barely the size of a Q-tip.
I settle into the chair and cross my legs at the ankles while Spencer frames the shot.
“So,” Jen starts, “Have you always believed in ghosts?”
I rake my fingers through my hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“You know that phrase, ‘seeing is believing?’ Before this happened to me, I wouldn’t say I was an active believer in the paranormal, but once you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’d be foolish not to believe.”
“So, what exactly did you see?”
“How much time do you have?”
I tell Jen about everything and try my best to be as detailed as possible. She thanked me for my time and said that her next interview just texted her that he was ready. I step out into the hall and grin when I see Dante leaning against the wall and waiting. He’s chatting with Elaina Moppet, who nervously fidgets with the hem of her pencil skirt.
“Are the two of you getting ready for your silver screen debut?” I joke.
“What gave it away? Is this too much?” Dante is wearing a purple, silk paisley-patterned shirt and dark purple trousers. His hair is gelled back in a thick coif.
“I’m nowhere near ready, if anything, I’m nauseous!” Elaina confesses.
“You’ll do great,” I reassure both of them, “Now, knock ‘em dead.”
The film crew goes to bed around eleven. Now that the babies have mostly slept through the night, Joseph and I like to take a nightcap in the study. It’s early Fall. The night is dark, and the first hint of a chill is in the air. Joseph lights a fire and sighs in satisfaction as he settles back into the armchair with a glass of scotch.
“Today was insane,” he says.
“What was your favorite part? When Joey tried to eat a microphone cable, or when Dante launched into his longstanding beef with the psychics of Seattle association?” I ask. I pour myself a glass of wine from the bar cart we keep in the corner of the study for nights like these and take a sip. I settle into the velvet armchair next to Joseph’s and watch as the flames catch.
“I’d say it was a tie,” Joseph jokes.
“I still can’t believe you agreed to do this.” If someone had told me a year ago that the person who slammed the door in the face of a gaggle of trick-or-treaters for even suggesting the presence of a ghost was participating in a documentary about said ghost, I would have told them they’re crazy.
“Well, I thought it would help people. The thing I remember the most about last year is feeling so lost. If I had the chance to talk to even one person about what we were going through, I would have felt so much better,” Joseph admits. He studies the fading red carpet for a beat.
“That’s sweet of you,” I say. I walk over and perch on the arm of his chair. He pulls me into his lap, and I laugh as he nibbles on my earlobe.
“Is talk of the paranormal still an aphrodisiac for you?” I tease.
“Nah, but you are.”
I turn to face him, and he pulls off my blouse fluidly before tossing it to the side.
It took us a few months to get back into the swing of things as a couple, but I have an IUD now, and the babies mostly sleep through the night.
I love coming home to him after a long day at the library. I only work there three days a week, but my heart never fails to melt at the sight of him and Iphigenia in the kitchen, making dinner as the babies scoot around on the floor.
