Her smile widened as she nodded. “Yes, he is. He’s so much like you.”
“I’m sorry I left,” typed Brandon. “I left you long before I died. I never meant to leave you so alone.” Helena’s tears flowed freely now, and she didn’t say anything. Brandon paused a moment before typing, “Please forgive me.”
She wiped her cheek. “I didn’t think I could,” she said, “but then you gave him to me. He’s the best thing. Oh, Brandon, I wish you could have known him.”
“So do I,” he typed.
Underneath that he added, “I love you.”
“I love you too, my darling. I always will.”
Down the hall, the bathroom door cracked open. “Mommy!”
Sniffing, Helena wiped her cheeks with her hands. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she hurried toward the bathroom.
As Brandon watched her go, he seemed torn but then his features smoothed out as peace seemed to come over him. He nodded, as if coming to a decision, then leaned town to type, “Goodbye.”
As soon as he typed the period, the wall in front of him vanished, swallowed up by a golden swirl of light. He took a step back, startled.
“Well, then,” he said. “I guess that did it.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I guess so.”
He tore his gaze away from the light to look at me. “Will you watch over them for me?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll get Chris to check up on her. We’ll make sure she’s okay.”
He nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the desk,” I added, feeling like an idiot as soon as it was out.
He let out a good-natured laugh. Then he stepped into the light. It promptly vanished, taking him with it just as the bathroom door opened, and Helena ushered out Brandon Jr. “Get right in bed, and I’ll be in soon to tell you a story,” she said as she steered him into his room. She pulled his door closed and hurried back over to the typewriter.
“I’m sorry abou…” her voice trailed off without finishing whatever it was she was about to say as she read the final message. Covering her mouth, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Then she carefully removed the paper from the typewriter. Staring at it, she leaned against the wall and slowly sunk to the floor, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
At that point I was definitely intruding. I wished so hard there was something I could do to comfort her, but I knew the best thing I could do was to leave her alone to process her grief. Once I told Chris what happened, she would most likely give Helena a call and let her know she was there for her. Maybe she could give Helena the EVP recording if she wanted it.
I returned home and found Joe waiting for me in the attic. I’d expected to come back and celebrate. Mission accomplished, right? But instead I just felt sad.
He must’ve seen it. “You okay?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Did it not work? Is Brandon still with us?”
“No, it worked. He’s gone.”
Joe’s brow furrowed. “You watched him go?” When I nodded, he sighed and held out his arms. I gratefully leaned into them. “I’m sorry, Ron.”
My own brow furrowed as I leaned back to look at him. “What for?”
“I know it must’ve been hard for you, watching him cross over. You could’ve gone with him, you know.”
“Now why would I do that?”
“Well, you know. Bein’ at peace, and all that.”
“What makes you think I’m not at peace right here?”
He gazed into my eyes, his expression serious, and a little bit fearful. “Are you? Really?”
“Yes,” I assured him. “I mean, I’m pretty bummed out right now because it’s just so sad. They really loved each other, and they can’t be together.” I leaned my head against his chest. “It makes me really glad we’re on the same side of the great divide.”
He relaxed against me. I closed my eyes as he held me closer. “Maybe it’s selfish,” he said, “but so am I.” He kissed the top of my head and, nuzzling my hair, said it again. “So am I.”
About the Author
Jean Marie Bauhaus is a red-headed GenXer who speaks with a twang that attests to her Northeastern Oklahoma upbringing. She developed a passion for good storytelling at an impressionable young age, and today channels that passion into writing romance and fantasy novels.
A freelance blogger and book editor by trade, Jean is addicted to yarn, dark chocolate, and even darker coffee. She makes her home in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her husband, Matt, their Chihuahua Pete, two cats, and a grumpy box turtle. Jean blogs about faith and overcoming life’s challenges at Daydream Believer. Connect with her at her website, JeanMarieBauhaus.com, on Facebook, and on Twitter and Instagram @jmbauhaus.
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