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“Sounds like a great bunch of guys,” said Willow. “Maybe I can look them up to see what became of them. It might give us some clues.”
“I’d appreciate that very much,” said Montgomery. The last time I spoke to Sam, he’d met a young lady in New York. He was smitten. I wonder if he married her. Roy and I would jab fun at him for renouncing our bachelor pact…”
He trailed off, as if a new idea came into his head that took over all his other thoughts.
“By George, I remember something.” His gaze swept to the bar and he pointed. “A woman.”
“The woman from New York?”
“No,” he said with a faraway look. “Someone else. She had… golden curls, and would sit alone, right over there. And she’d come in every night and smile and talk to me and…”
“And? What else?”
“Her face… streaked with tears. She was crying my name, bent over me as I lay on the floor. And then… the whole world faded away.”
The memory came to him in short, quick flashes, much like the first moving pictures he’d seen as a lad. Montgomery stood perfectly still, closing his eyes to keep the vision from fading. To welcome more if it was indeed something of his past. But the memory was fleeting and was over almost as quickly as it began.
Who was that woman? And why could he not remember?
He was at the mouth of a tunnel, and the answers to all his questions were on the other side, waiting in the light. But nothing he did could bring him closer. He’d run, but the tunnel would stretch further and further away.
His whole existence was like that. Until recently. Until this tornado of a woman with fiery red hair moved into his bar. Now, everything shifted, and the world around him came into focus. Before, moments were spread out like a jigsaw puzzle, or as if his soul was meandering through a cloud, only partially aware. But slowly, day after day, time became linear, with a strange yet not unpleasant weight.
“Hello? Ghostface. What did you remember? Who was she?”
Willow was flapping her hands in front of Montgomery’s face, her hazel eyes dancing with curiosity—and with a piece of noodle stuck to her chin. He blinked at the sight of her. So animated and lively… and a little odd. His fingers itched to wipe that noodle off her face, for his thumb to brush the remaining oils and sauce from her skin. Willow Ravensong was an enigma.
“I know why you can see me now,” he said in a stupor. “It’s your magic. Something about you is bringing my memories to light. It’s because of you.”
“Me? No, I’m nothing special.”
“You can see me and talk to me because you’re… well, I know you hate the word.”
“A witch?”
“Yes,” he replied tentatively.
“It’s okay. You can say witch. The alternative is ‘mage’ or ‘wizard’ and that’s just tooHarry Potterfor my taste.”
“Alright then. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I know you can communicate with me because you’re a witch. It’s because of your magic—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. Witches don’t just see ghosts all over the place. You’re thinking about mediums, and even they have to work for it. Besides, Esme and my sisters didn’t see you when they came for the grand opening.”
“There were a lot of people here. Maybe they thought I was one of the crowd. You said yourself I don’t appear like a spirit. Even… I dare say… handsome?”
Willow opened her mouth then clamped it shut again, making a gurgling noise in the back of her throat. A soft bloom of pink spread across her features and she stuttered when she said, “Wha…? Handsome? Chaw! If pasty and gaunt is the new hot.”
“Pasty and gaunt?”
She waved her finger up and down. “You look like death warmed over.”
“Oh yeah? You look like…” Montgomery wasn’t sure what she looked like, exactly. An intrepid sprite? A feral raccoon? A flighty fox? “…like you were raised by monkeys.”
“How very original of you to say that,” she said, planting her fists on her hips. Did you learn that in your misspent youth?”
“I was fully supporting myself at fourteen. At that age you were playing with dolls, no doubt.”
“I don’t know what you think American teenagers do in the twenty-first century, but it’s not playing with dolls.”
