“Stevie? Can I come in?”
My head popped up, and it was the first time since I’d come up here this morning that I took note of the time. It was almost eight o’clock…but what did the time really matter?
“Sure,” I muttered, tucking my feet under me.
As he buzzed into the room, I watched him land on my nightstand with Whiskey in tow, who came to stand beside me, nosing my hand. Absently, I reached down and scratched his large head.
“Talk to me, Stevie. You’ve been up here for almost ten hours, just sitting. Ten hours. I flew around outside and looked in the window to check on you, and you haven’t moved. What’s happening?”
I stared blankly at him. “Nothing. I’m just sitting.” Sitting and absorbing.
“That’s shock, Stevie. You’re numb from shock. You’re protecting yourself from the pain. It’s part of grieving. You know the signs. Now, come downstairs and I’ll fix you something to eat and we’ll talk. Please.”
Maybe it was shock, but I can tell you this, it beat the unmerciful empty ache I’d had before. Still, I had the wherewithal to ask, “Hear anything from Win? Any new clues from above?”
Belfry sighed long and low, and I heard his regret when he answered. “No. Nothing. Nothing from upstairs, according to Arkady.”
Nodding, I twisted the buttons on my pajamas.
“Stevie, I’m telling you, you’re in shock. Snap out of it. You need to have something to eat and come back downstairs to help us figure this out. We’ve been banging our heads against a brick wall all day long—we need you.”
I’m not sure where my head was at this point. I’m not sure why, after sitting in a chair all blessed day, I suddenly needed air. I think it was Bel’s plea to help he and Arkady figure this out.
I think it was the idea I could somehow lead them to an answer like I’d done in the past, and the fear of failing them, of never having an answer, made me want to bolt. I always found the answer because of Win—we found it together.
Either way, I had to get away from the house, away from this life I’d created with Win.
I couldn’t breathe from the need to get away. I don’t understand why my will to go another round was so reluctant, but it grew in me like a festering infection. It strangled me like a tight shirt, and I had to break free.
Hopping off the chair, I pulled my robe off and ran to my closet to grab a jacket. I didn’t care that I was still in my stinky pajamas. I didn’t care that my hair looked as though I’d stuck my finger in a light socket—I needed to get away from this house.
“Stevie? What are you doing?”
Pulling on an old hoodie, I grabbed my phone and shoved it into the pocket. “I need to get out of this house, Bel. I need to do it now.”
As I said those words, the desperate energy buried in me all day coiled then snapped, and I was all silent motion, running down the hall and taking the steps two at a time in order to get away.
I grabbed my car keys and threw the door open, the wind greeting me with its raw, drizzly chill.
“Steeevie!”
“I’ll be back!” I yelled over my shoulder, the rain battering my face as I beeped my car open and hopped inside.
Drive. I just wanted to drive somewhere, anywhere but here, where my entire life, where the center of my universe, had crumbled to pieces.
As I backed out of the driveway and put the car in drive, I inhaled, feeling like I could truly breathe for the first time since this had begun.
And I did that. I drove aimlessly while the blur of the dark night whizzed past my car windows and my head, muddled and fuzzy, filled with disjointed thoughts of a life without Win. Filled with the sound of his voice, filled with the echo of his laughter.
I’m not sure where I went or how I finally came back to the house, or even when I arrived. I only know I was suddenly back in the driveway again, when dread welled in my belly.
A dread so real, so palpable, I wasn’t sure I could get out of the car.
I dreaded going inside because Win wouldn’t be there.
Win wouldn’t be there…
Now the agony of hearing Win had left, without any proof he hadn’t crossed over, socked me in the chest, making me want to curl up in bed and never leave. I’ve faced plenty of sadness in my life, plenty of disappointment, but this was different.
Bereft was the best word I could come up with to describe this merciless ache in my soul, and as I sat in my driveway, the driveway Win had designed himself, I almost couldn’t move.
Leaning forward, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel and prayed this wretched emptiness, this feeling of abandonment would end. Numb had been so much better—so much easier.
All at once, I was very aware of everything around me, aware of every raw emotion I’d managed to tamp down today. The glow from the dashboard became too much, our favorite Pandora station, playing softly on the radio, became too loud. The lights from the house, dulled only by the pouring rain, hurt my head.
In that moment, the strains of “For Good” began to play in the car, the tinkling piano, the heart-wrenchingly beautiful voice of Kristin Chenoweth brought my agony bubbling to the surface…and that was the moment it all fell apart.
All my resolve, all my self-control slipped away, and anguish set in, clawing at my heart when she sang the words, I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason…
The tears I’d been too tired to cry or too determined to allow fell from my eyes in fat splotches, drenching my cheeks. I clung to the steering wheel, holding on with a tight grip as visions of the many adventures I’d shared with Win since we’d met rushed through my mind’s eye.
Adventures we’d never again share—the life we’d built together, as unconventional as it was to any outsider, had been so wonderful. We’d managed to work around our deficits somehow. He’d given me so much more than money and a house with all the trimmings. He’d given me courage and strength. He’d given Bel and I a home.
He’d given…
How could I ever conceive of living without him?
As the last words of the song floated through the car—Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good—I gasped for air, almost unable to breathe.
My ragged sobs tore through the interior of my tiny car—until a sharp rap at the window made me jump out of my skin, jolting me from of my tortured weeping.
I turned to find Dana’s handsome face peering in at me, with Melba poking her head around his shoulder, an umbrella over their heads. But that handsome face went from smiling to grave concern as he popped open the door of the car.
“Stevie? Are you okay?” He held out his hand to me. “Here, let me help you.” I must have recoiled, because he put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Stevie. It’s just me, Officer Stick-Up-His-Butt, and Melba, too. You like us, I promise. We thought we’d drop by some food in case you needed it during your family emergency. C’mon. Let us help you inside.”
I gave him my hand, but I stumbled when I tried to get out of the car, falling into him, likely from lack of sleep and food.
“Stevie? What’s happening? Please, please tell me,” Dana begged with an alarmed tone to his voice, gripping my shoulders as the wind tore at his normally perfect hair.
But how could I? How could I tell him the man I needed more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life, the one person aside from Belfry who’d always been there for me, was gone, and I was just now feeling that loss?
Oh, and he wasn’t just gone as in he left. He’d defected from the afterlife.
How could I explain that?
Looking up into his handsome face, so concerned, so not like the Dana I ran into at crime scenes, but the man who’d become my unwilling friend, I swallowed back another fresh batch of hysteria and reached out to him, grabbing his hand, willing the right words to come.
He held tight to me, squeezing my fingers. “Tell me, Stevie. Tell me what’s g
oing on. I’ve never, in all the time I’ve known you, ever seen you like this. So distraught…and you’re scaring me. You’re really scaring me. Talk to me. You can always, always talk to me. Please tell me you know that.”
My chest throbbed and burned, tight with pain. “I… I lost someone very dear to me today. No one you knew, but someone who—” I gasped for air, clinging to his hand as tears began to slide down my face. “Someone who changed me. Someone who changed…who changed my life.”
Dana stared at me, his eyes racing over my face. “Who, Stevie? How can I help? How can I ease your pain?”
Gulping the chilly night air, I shook my head and swiped at my cheeks, wiping my free hand on my jacket. “You can’t. You can…can’t,” I rasped the word. Even words hurt. Everything hurt, but I somehow had to explain without telling him the truth. Instead, I called up a comparison, one I knew he could relate with. “Do you remember when you lost Sophia?”
Dana inhaled, his wide chest expanding with the effort. “I do. You were there for me, Stevie. You were always there when I needed you. Let me be here for you.”
“Let me, too,” Melba whispered, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived.
But I shook my head again, my heart tearing at the seams. “Do you remember how much that hurt, Dana? Do you remember it was as though someone stole the very breath from your lungs? Do you remember how blindsided you were?”
He didn’t answer at first; instead, he pulled me into his strong embrace and pressed his cheek against the top of my head, while Melba placed a warm, supportive hand on my shoulder.
“Of course, Stevie. Of course, I remember.”
“And do you remember how you just needed time to process her loss? How you needed to let it sit for a little while before you could face your friends and family?”
“Yes,” he whispered into the night, a raw sound coming from his throat. “Yes.”
“Let me do that, too, please?” I begged, choking out the words. “I promise…I promise I’ll come to you when I’m ready. I-I promise.”
“Swear it, Stevie. Swear it to both Melba and me, or I’m not leaving you here alone tonight. Not a chance.”
I clenched my fist against his chest and pushed my knuckles into my mouth, both to keep from screaming and to allow me the time to speak the words he needed to hear so he would let me be in peace.
I didn’t want to turn my friend away. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or shun his comfort, but I couldn’t face anyone just yet. I couldn’t explain…
“Stevie?” Melba said, her soft voice full of sympathy.
“Yes. Yes, I swear it to you.”
I heard Melba inhale, felt her tug at my fingers, pull my hand into hers and rub my freezing-cold digits as the wind whipped at the umbrella and the rain pelted us.
I felt Dana sway, rocking me whether he knew he was or not, lulling me, soothing me. We stood there for a long time—or maybe it wasn’t that long at all. I don’t know. I didn’t care. Right now, I didn’t care where I was or what happened to me.
I just wanted Win. I wanted to hear his voice in my ear. I wanted him to taunt me about how horrible my taste in just about everything is. I wanted him to mock me about how I was slacking off with my workouts. I wanted to watch TV with him.
I wanted to hear him call me his dove one last time.
Just one last time.
As I said, I don’t know how long we stood there in the cold night, the wind whistling through the trees Win had so carefully insisted we save when we’d remodeled the house and landscaped.
I only know, when Dana finally let me go, the fresh scent of his cologne and Melba’s lasagna lingering in my nose, we were on the front porch. But I don’t remember much else after stepping inside the house Win had so carefully, lovingly renovated, closing the door, and leaning back against the hard surface until my knees bent and I hit the ground with my backside.
And that’s where I sat, Whiskey’s head in my lap, the sound of deathly silence from above resonating in my ears.
It’s where I fell utterly and completely apart for the second time.
Chapter 10
As Bel sang “So This is Love” in my ear, I’m embarrassed to say this, but I had the mother of all meltdowns part two. My pendulum of emotions swung wildly from one extreme to the other, and I’m not proud of how I momentarily gave up, but I’m honest enough to admit I did.
When Bel began to sing, it reminded me that he used to croon that song to me when I was little. When I was all alone and afraid because my mother was off with her latest suitor.
He knew how much I loved the story of Cinderella, and he’d often joked he was the witch’s version of the singing bluebirds from the movie. When I was a child, I often compared myself to the Disney princess. I didn’t have an evil stepmother, but I had an absent one, a dismissive one who loved herself far more than she could ever love me.
At the end of her story, Cinderella had everything I so desperately wanted. A home, love, a prince, acceptance. And okay, if I’m honest, a sweet pair of shoes.
As silly as it sounds, I didn’t think about the anti-feminist take on it all and how her happiness was so keenly dependent upon a man sweeping her off her feet. I only thought about how much the prince loved her, and how much I wanted to be loved like that.
Now, as Belfry sang to me, I realized in my personal Cinderella story, Win was my prince. I don’t mean in the traditional sense, either—not entirely. I don’t need someone to sweep me off my feet and carry me off to the nearest castle, although he’d rather done that in the most avant-garde way.
But if he hadn’t come along and given me this amazing experience with his money and this beautiful house, I would have rallied, because that’s just what I do.
What I mean by that is this: he was my acceptance, my home, my true north, and losing him was unbearable. He was the first person to truly embrace who I am, and now, this empty space in my heart, this black void deep in my soul, whistled through me, proof of how much of him had become a part of me.
I didn’t know how I’d survive without that. I know it’s wrong, but I’m not sure I wanted to live in a world where there was no Win.
But there was no Win, and it appeared there would never be again, and right now, I needed to find a way, find an answer to how I’d ever get up off this floor, let alone move forward.
While I lost myself in my misery, while I steeped like a tea bag in pathetic sorrow, I didn’t notice Belfry had stopped singing.
He rubbed his snout against my cheek, drying my endless tears. “Stevie B? C’mon, Boss. No more tears. Okay? Let’s go make a pot of coffee and figure this out. That’s what we always do. We figure this out. We always figure it out.”
But there was nothing left to figure. We hadn’t had a clue all day, and the clues we did have led to nothing. How could I possibly find someone who had literally disappeared from a place I couldn’t see to investigate? A place where entry required my death?
Leaning my head back against the door, I inhaled a watery breath. “It’s impossible, Bel. We have nothing. There is nothing. No amount of coffee or my laptop is going to figure this out. You heard what Arkady told us. The spirit said he crossed over.”
“Well, guess what? I don’t entirely believe that shizzle, okay? I think that’s crapola, and you know it! Spirits are confused all the time. Maybe this one was confused, too. Until we know for sure Win’s crossed over, we don’t give up. We never give up.”
I couldn’t answer him. I had nothing to say. I only wanted to curl up in a protective ball, pull a blanket over my head and never come up for air.
“That’s it. Get up, Stevie! Get up right now!” Belfry cried, using his nose to nudge my cheek in the most irritating way. “I won’t have this. Not one second more! You’ve done all the wallowing you’re going to do. We’re Cartwrights. Cartwrights don’t wallow—we fight ’til the end.”
“Yes, malutka, listen to tiny wing-ed creature, and get up. Please, my da
ffodil of love. I cannot bear to see you this way when there is nothing I can do to help. You must get up!” Arkady cried out. And I heard him.
I heard the desperate panic in his tone, I almost felt it grab hold of me and shake me, it was so rife. But it didn’t motivate me to move.
Belfry buzzed at my face, swatting his leathery wings against my eyes. “Get up, Stevie Cartwright. You will get off your bum right now!”
No. No. No. Every bone in my body rebelled and ached, every muscle deflated and limp as a noodle. I couldn’t get up. I never wanted to get up.
“Stop, Belfry. Stop. Please. No motivational speeches today. I can’t. This isn’t the part of the hockey game where we’re down but not out and all we need is one hearty speech about working together as a team to make a comeback. I just can’t!”
“You can and you will, young lady!” he ordered sharply. “When was the last time you gave up? When? Never. That’s when. We came to this Podunk town with not much more than the clothes on our backs, and look where we are. Because you didn’t give up, Stevie. You didn’t give up, and you’re not giving up today. Not today!”
Cue movie-like speech.
Still, I shook my head. No. No, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face another single second of this world without Win with me. I wouldn’t.
Belfry changed positions, hovering right in front of my face, his wings flapping furiously. “This is no different than any other mystery, and you’re going to solve it. Figure out how, Stevie. Figure. It. Out.”
As he demanded I do his bidding with incessant chatter, I grew angry. Irrational rage slithered along my spine and left my cheeks hot and red.
How dare he insist I figure this out when that’s all I’d been doing all stinkin’ week long, and it was tearing me to shreds, chewing me up from the inside!
“There is no mystery to solve, Belfry!” I spat the words, rage hitting me square in the gut for the first time. Rage for how I’d come to this place in my life.
I’d have never met Win if not because some vengeful, hideous warlock couldn’t bear the idea I’d kept him from killing his own flesh and blood.
Witch Way Did He Go? Page 9
