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“Just me, trying to get my sea legs. I was thinking of throwing a costume ball. Just a small one if I can get around to planning it.”
“That sounds lovely,” Daria said. “You’ll invite all of us, right?”
“You’ll be first on the guest list,” Willow said cheerily.
“Wonderful,” Jewels exclaimed. “I’ll watch for my invitation. More champagne?”
“Actually,” Willow replied, “I drank too much coffee this morning. May I use the bathroom?”
“Of course,” said Nadine, shifting her eyes to signal Astrid who rose from her seat right away.
“I’ll show you where it is,” Astrid said, and led Willow out of the room, and down a hallway. When they reached a plain, white door, she proclaimed, “Here you go. I’ll wait right here. Turns out, I have to go, too.”
Willow guessed from the way the modern fixtures looked so different from the rest of the vintage house, that this was where the guests used the facilities, and she was okay with that. She once used the toilet in an old house that had the water tank hanging from the ceiling. She didn’t think she’d pulled the chain very hard, but ended up flooding the whole bathroom. Thank the Fates Nadine had a nice guest restroom. There was even a basket of cute monogrammed hand towels for single use.
When Willow was done with her business, Astrid asked her to wait so they could walk back together. So she passed the time enjoying the artwork on the walls and the photographs of Nadine and what looked like old family photos. Some were black and white or sepia, and a few others looked like studio portraits. But one photo in particular stole her breath right from her lungs.
It was of a young man with a thin, pale face, and unruly black hair. The Timothée Chipotle look-alike.
The haze lifted and Montgomery found himself once again in familiar surroundings. The last thing he remembered was drifting off while watching a movie. And he’d been on Willow’s bed of all places. He didn’t know how much time had passed since then. Sleep in the conventional sense was not his companion. There was no rest in the afterlife. No closing one’s eyes to slumber in sweet dreams. No waking up with the sun, refreshed and ready for the day.
Only a spectral flicker in and out of consciousness, like a leaf drifting on a gust of wind. For a century he existed this way, wandering between the living realm and an empty nothingness as if walking from one room to another—sometimes noticing weeks, months or even years had passed.
But this time was different. He felt a breeze against his cheek, the warmth of the sun on his skin, and could smell the freshness in the air. Freshly cut grass. Fragrant pine. The clear running water of a mountain stream. Birds chirping in the distance. And while he was in that place, he sensed a coaxing, as if he could make the decision to stay or return.
It was his hesitation which sent him gently back until he was standing in the middle of the bookshop, observing Willow on the floor mumbling jumbled words over her ancient book.
Then, as if sensing him there, she paused, sat up stone still, and said curtly, “Where have you been?”
He wasn’t exactly sure where he’d been. Only that it had never happened that way before.
Willow slowly stood up from the floor, where Montgomery now noticed was littered with candles and gemstones, and turned to face him with seething fury. Her skin seemed to glitter. Her eyes like hot coals. And her hair—as wild and torrid as the surface of the sun—danced like tattered staysails in a tempest.
“Three days, Montgomery. Three. Freaking. Days. I was worried sick about you.”
“Three days?”
“I didn’t know where you’d gone—if you were gone forever or not. If you finally found a way to leave the building. If you just ceased to exist. If I’d made the whole thing up in my head and would have to be institutionalized…”
“And you were worried about me?”
“I thought maybe watchingGhosthelped you move on, like gave you some ideas. I dunno! And it freaked me out.”
“But why? I thought you wanted me gone.”
“I… do!” she said with a hint of hesitation. “Totally. But I want to see it with my own eyes just to make sure you won’t come back.”
“What on earth did you think it would look like?”
She threw her hands into the air. “A… bright white light summoning you to walk into it?”
“A bright white light?”
“Sure.”
“What if it’s the other place?”
“Then a dark, scary shadow. What do I care?”
