by Gina Ranalli
“I was unstable,” he replied, much calmer now, probably for Dusty’s sake. “It wasn’t the house’s fault.”
But it was the house’s fault and she, of all people, knew it. “I’m sorry, Sean. But I won’t allow it.”
His eyes shot red hot daggers at her. “You can’t control me, Karen. Not forever.”
And of course, he was right.
It was only a couple days after that he told her he was going, whether she liked it or not. She could tell there was no winning this fight. Not anymore. One way or another, he would go and Karen finally decided that since she couldn’t stop him, the only option left was to accompany him.
By then, the road to the house was nearly complete and they were able to drive up, parking in a small lot in the side yard. It was a little over forty-eight hours since Rory’s visit but when he stepped onto the front porch to greet them that Friday afternoon, Karen thought he looked different somehow. Older, maybe.
“Hey!” Sean yelled happily, as he rounded the corner of the house and saw his lover standing there. “The place looks great.”
Karen had to agree, though she eyed the trees warily. By the time she and the guys had been ready to take Sean out of there the morning that followed the insanely bizarre night of what she had come to think of as ‘the storm,’ those ancient pines had all moved back to their original places. They stood proud and tall and no one would have ever believed they’d moved. She couldn’t believe it herself, now.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched the two men embrace.
“Thanks,” Rory said. “We’re almost ready to open her up. The website goes live tomorrow.”
“Very cool,” Sean said, ending the hug.
Saul stepped out of the house, grinning from ear to ear, drying his hands on a dishtowel. The dying sunlight glinted off his teeth and made his black hair shine. “The Lewis family has arrived at last,” he said, sounding happy.
He gave Sean a big bear hug while Karen climbed the steps and then he gave her a squeeze as well. “Welcome!” he said. “Hope you guys are hungry.”
“I am,” she replied and it wasn’t a total lie. Though she felt as if she were about to leap out of her skin with nervousness, her belly was rumbling and even out here she could smell the Italian spices. “Starving.”
“I love a woman with an appetite.” He winked at her and Karen felt herself grinning back at him. She couldn’t deny the fact that he was really quite a handsome fellow and it had been so long since she…
“Home at last!” Sean yelled joyfully, startling her out of her thoughts. He abruptly ran into the house and an image of him as a little boy on Christmas morning came flooding back to her all at once.
Maybe everything will be okay after all, she thought. Who’s to say there’s no such thing as a happy ending?
She, Rory, and Saul all followed him inside.
The first thing that struck her was how bright and beautiful it all was now. It had been so gloomy once upon a time. Now, the drapes were drawn back and everything sparkled. Everything was new.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, and for reasons unknown to her, began to tear up.
Without words, Saul evidently understood what she was feeling because he held out his hand for her to take. “How about a tour?” he asked.
Karen nodded and together they climbed the staircase as Rory went off towards the kitchen in search of Sean.
On the second floor, she noticed all the vintage portraits had finally been removed from the walls. Probably the only solid evidence of the supernatural goings on that had occurred more than a year ago. She considered saying something about it to Saul, but decided against it. Of course the portraits were gone. What she considered evidence, Rory probably considered the work of mysterious vandals. And really, isn’t that exactly what it had been?
“…so everything’s been restored to how it originally was,” Saul was saying. “At least, how we think it originally was. There’s no way to know for sure, but according to the research we’ve done, it’s pretty damn close.”
“Can I see my old room?” she asked suddenly. She had no idea why she wanted to see that room, but she did. It was almost as though it were calling out to her…pulling her…
“Sure,” Saul said, a little uncertainly. “But we didn’t need to do much in there. Just replaced the mattress, that kind of thing.”
Good, she thought and began striding in the direction of the room.
When she reached it, she heard Rory call Saul from downstairs, but his voice sounded further away than that.
“Saul! I think your garlic bread might be burning!”
“Argh!” Saul groaned. “If it doesn’t come out of the toaster or a cardboard box, Rory is useless. I’ll be right back.”
Karen smiled but didn’t pay him much mind, not even bothering to hesitate in her urgency to get to the room she wanted to see.
But an odd thing happened when she reached the threshold. She stopped and felt the crushing weight of loss…of guilt…
Beginning to cry, she went into the room, wondering…no, hoping…an oil lamp was nearby because it was dark in here and she didn’t want to be alone in the dark and she was certain Emily didn’t either.
Stop it! she chastised herself. You know Emmy is gone. Why do you torture yourself this way?
She crossed the room to touch the chenille bedspread, frowning just a little. Something was different in here, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Never mind. You’re a sick woman. Go to bed.
And she was sick, but not nearly as sick as Frank, who was probably out in the woods right this very second, doing Lord only knew what.
Talking to the trees. He says he talks to the trees.
Preposterous. He was sick with grief, naturally. Emmy had only been gone a few weeks…
Feeling dizzy and hot, she knew she should go back to bed. Venturing around the house like this would only be the death of her, especially with Frank most probably out of hearing range.
Yes, back to bed was a good idea.
She turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Stopping, she peered closer at her reflection, the dark hair piled messily on top of her head, the blue eyes which had once been so bright, now all the color bleached out of them. Looking so old, when she was, in reality, so young.
Attempting to neaten her hair, she caught herself frowning and knew that just wouldn’t do. Frank hated to see her frown, even now after all they’d been through. And so she forced herself to smile. It was thin and weak and very clearly fake but she loved her husband and for him, she would do anything.
About the Author
Gina Ranalli is the author of Chemical Gardens, Suicide Girls in the Afterlife, Wall of Kiss, Mother Puncher, Praise the Dead and Sky Tongues. She lives in the Seattle area and you can visit her on the web at www.ginaranalli.com. Bring cake.
