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1
Gage
There was some saying about the early morning hours being for specters and otaku—or I made part of that up. But as I walked through the small town where I lived, at two in the morning, I was fairly sure even the ghosts and fanboys had gone to bed.
Even on a Friday night, a place like Haddarville was completely closed down before midnight.
I’d lost track of time, working in the burger place I’d inherited from my grandfather, and turned into a grill and microbrew when I took it over. Rather, I’d told myself I was working, I even had a fantastic plan for remodeling the back banquet room so I could reopen it, if I could get the idea on paper.
Mostly though, I’d gotten lost in thoughts of five years ago. When my wife told me she was leaving me.
Worst. Birthday. Present ever. We wasted so much time. This way, maybe we can get some back. She’d said that to me when she told me she’d been sleeping with another doctor she worked with.
She’d said it again when she called earlier this evening to let me know the final payout from selling our house had cleared and my half was on its way to me.
The first time I heard those words I’d asked her if the time was really wasted if we enjoyed it? In my mind, no good times were without merit. She disagreed, because our time together hadn’t led to anything.
I couldn’t get the differences in opinion out of my head.
My walk home took me past the graveyard, and rather than linger in the past any longer, I searched for those supposed two am ghosts.
Or maybe they didn’t come out until three. I was an hour early, and that was my problem. My ex would’ve hated knowing that I did this. That I’d wasted precious time wandering and searching for something stupid like specters in the graveyard.
A pale figure caught my attention, but she was definitely corporeal. Evie was sitting on a stone bench a few rows in, legs crossed and gaze turned to the ground.
Her shoulder length hair was pulled into a short ponytail, showing off the shaved sides of her head and the layer of blond she had bleached under the natural black on top. She looked captivating and lost.
I had a rather good idea what she was thinking about, because it had been on her mind a lot. She owned the local hardware store, and they were struggling.
She’d been here for me since I moved back. A lot of the time in the subtlest but best ways. I’d spent my first few months in town with my head down and not wanting to talk to anyone.
Because a guy could only listen to I heard you and Grace split. Always thought you’d be together forever so many times before it felt more like a mental tick than a well-meaning comment.
But Evie would show up with supplies and coffee at the most random but convenient times, and she never pushed me to talk. She never brought Grace up.
Maybe I could offer at least a little bit of a similar distraction for Evie tonight. I followed a path around graves, and settled on the bench next to her.
She didn’t look up.
“Did I get here in time for the show?” I asked softly.
She almost smiled. “What show is that?”
“Whatever one has you staring so intently at that spot of dirt.” I’d grown up here with her—the town not the graveyard—and because our last names were Young and Zabriskie, we always found ourselves grouped together in class.
When we hit our teens, I was taller than everyone else and she was shorter, and we were both convinced we were way too ugly and nerdy to find true love.
Yup, that was our biggest concern at thirteen and fourteen. What a life.
She and I had made a pact that if we hit forty and were still single, we’d get married. That way we wouldn’t be alone forever.
Back then, forty seemed like it would never happen. Now it was two days away.
I had gotten married though, and Evie had enlisted, both of us right out of high school.
“I don’t think the show is happening tonight,” Evie said. “The headliner stepped into the light and their understudy has a bad case of the…” She frowned.
“The what?”
