Ghostly: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Perks of Being Paranormal Book 1)

Chapter 28

He was back.

Thanks to a four-hour delay due to an accident on the freeway, and the general slowness getting out of the city, it had taken Gabriel the night to reach Buttons. He’d drank three coffees and spilled one, and based on his reflection in the rear-view mirror, he looked primed to be put on a cornfield to scare away the crows.

But more than anything else, he was afraid.

The shimmering feeling was long gone, but the paralyzing fear remained. Was it what he’d thought, the Passing Through contract finally realizing itself, or was it only a similar feeling, born of him shedding his old life?

If it was the first, was Ida gone already? Did she pop out of existence the moment he’d forgiven Wynona and Anderson, or was she allowed to wait, leave whenever she wanted? Would she still be waiting?

His chest felt too tight to breathe as he swung the gate aside and ran to the front door of the old Victorian. She would’ve left, wouldn’t she? They said their goodbyes. If she was suddenly free, she’d leave.

He slammed into the door, not entirely on purpose; his legs just weren’t functioning the best at the moment. He supported himself by leaning on the door, and knocked. “Ida!”

Gabriel knocked harder, used both hands, continued screaming her name. If she was still here, would she push the door open? Or ignore him?

Maybe there’s no response because she’s no longer here.

“Ida! It’s me, Gabriel!” He pounded on the door again. “Oh, fuck this.” He steadied himself, moved as far back as the porch would allow, and slammed into the door with all his force.

Three tries and a lot of wooziness later, he succeeded.

He nearly fell into the hallway, preventing his fall by grabbing the edge of the console table. He straightened up and, for a few seconds, only listened for any sound he could hear through his elevated heartbeat, rapping somewhere between his throat and middle ear.

“Ida?”

Nothing.

He checked the deer-hog statue; nothing. Living room—no Ida on the couch, TV, nothing, the books—where have all the books gone? Gabriel swept the empty bookcase as if expecting they’d turned invisible. Shit—the contract, he’d left it here! Was it gone, too? If someone had destroyed it before now, would it still have worked?

But then he would’ve seen Ida. Or he would, if she let him.

“Ida, please. It’s me. Show yourself.” He checked the vase; no humming. What else? The backyard. He threw a glance through the window; no movement. Into the kitchen—the oven, the microwave, the fridge, bowls, plates—god, was it dirty in here—nothing.

“Ida. I’m sorry. I never should’ve left.” He walked back into the living room. “Please, come out. I only want to talk.” And this time, tell her everything as it truly was. No more pretending. He didn’t care if she was a ghost. And as long as she felt the same—with no lies, none of that ‘you deserve better’ mumbo-jumbo, he’d make her see that even a difficult existence by her side was worth more than the best life without her.

“Please.” His arms fell limp by his side; his voice broke, and he bowed his head. “Say you’re not gone.”

“Gabriel?”

He whipped around, the dizziness forgotten in a second as he saw her.

Ida.

As if he just got dipped into the richest, blackest coffee, energy and light spread through his body. So many times he’d seen her stand in the doorway, with that same coiffured hair and same proper, rust-colored dress, hands clasped in front. He thought he never would again.

But she was still here, and Gabriel’s heart sang.

That is, it did the first few notes, until he realized something was different.

Ida stepped forward. Stepped, not glided. Her feet moved as if they were in proper touch with the ground; her skirt waved around her boots, and the floor creaked under her steps.

Shivers—not ones from the cramps of the long drive—spread up through his legs. “You’re alive.”

She nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Go!The shivers seemed to say, and pushed him into a run toward her. He spread out his arms, ready to hug her, twirl her around, do everything he’d been thinking about for so long—but Ida reached out a hand.

“Wait.”

***

“Wait,” Ida said, her extended hand trembling. She’d been trembling a lot lately—a side effect of becoming alive, she supposed. Although at the moment, the reason was different: Gabriel came back.

He came back!

She wanted to run into his arms, but a part of her that still couldn’t quite believe this was real held her back. Didn’t dreams always end at the best moment?

Tentatively, she reached for his arm. Gabriel lifted his hand slightly, palm up, and she touched the inner side of his wrist with the tip of her finger. A string of tiny sparks flew from the touch up through her arm. Ida smiled to herself. It wasn’t a dream.

And he was the one.

So she grabbed his hand, pulled him toward her, and kissed him.

Forget dreams; reality was so much better. That first touch of the lips—just like the time when she’d haunted a firework, in the second before it went off. Then Gabriel took charge, cupped her face, deepened the kiss, and she didn’t care about whatever feelings she used to have when haunting things; she was done with that, and the new memories, new impressions, were so much more exciting.

After what felt like many minutes and no time passed at all, Gabriel broke the kiss, and she remembered she needed to breathe now. They stayed close, foreheads touching, moss-green eyes searching hers intently.

“How?” he asked.

She laughed and, because she could, kissed him again, and pecked his nose, and ran a finger along the firm arch of his eyebrows, and smoothed his hair. “Well,” she said, moving out of his embrace, but keeping their hands joined, “I’ve had time to think”—she”d been trapped in her bedroom for the past twelve hours, not daring to venture out until Shawn had left—“and I believe when I activated the Resurrection Contract, it didn’t break the first one. It linked them. We didn’t fail the resurrection ritual—it was just that not all the conditions had been fulfilled.”

“Forgiveness.”

She played with the wrinkled collar of his shirt. “Because the Resurrection Contract was the first one completed, it was the one that counted, but not before one last missing piece from the first one came into place.”

“The contracts connected,” Gabriel murmured. “It makes no sense. And that’s exactly what I would expect of that crazy book.” He wagged his finger. “That is a severely faulty contract. Whoever wrote it, I hate them.”

She giggled at his over-exaggerated indignation. “They gave me back my life. I love them.”

Gabriel’s eyes softened, and he cupped her face again. “And I love you.”

Her insides melted into a bubbling goo. “I love you, too.” She sniffled. “But wait, what about Wynona? The Schuyler Sisters said you were marrying her.”

Gabriel looked down and shook his head. “We’re over. I couldn’t do it.” He took her hand and caressed it. “I tried, like you asked me to. She made up the engagement. I could barely stand her touching me.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, one by one.

She’d forgotten what an amazing thing fingers were—the feelings, the sensations they conveyed!

“That’s why I came back here,” he said. “When I felt the shimmering, I didn’t care whether you were a ghost. I only cared about having you, even if in an immaterial way.”

She sniffled some more, the vision in the corners of her eyes growing blurry. Oh, tears—what a glorious thing they were, too! “You know you did exactly as you promised? The first thing that happened when I came back to life—I cried. The second—you kissed me.”

“Hmm.” Gabriel stared at the upward left corner, pretending to think. “If I remember correctly, the third one was blushing.”

“Was it?” She remembered that conversation perfectly, though—and it promised a little more than blushing. Her cheeks grew warm.

“A-ha! Good beginning,” Gabriel said. “You look beautiful when you blush.”

“I’m sure I don’t. It goes very badly with my hair.”

“I’ll see if I can craft a good enough argument to convince you otherwise.”

“Maybe.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “You could start with another kiss…”

“That can be done.” He moved closer, their foreheads almost touching again, and rubbed his nose along hers. The tease!

She lifted on her toes. An inch more, half an inch, almost—

“Who the hell are you two?”

***

Gabriel and Ida jumped apart. Ida shrieked; Gabriel turned to the interrupting voice, ready for murder.

A short man in a horrific knitted vest stood in the hallway; light streamed in behind him from the still-open front door.

“That’s Shawn, the new tenant,” Ida said and, when Shawn’s gaze turned to her, covered her mouth. “Oh, god. I forgot he can see and hear me now.”

“What the hell? Who—are you burglars? You’re robbing me!” Shawn twitched, but didn’t reach for any weapon. “The audacity! I go out for the first time in a month, and straightaway, someone comes to rob me!”

“Sir, no, that’s not what we—” Gabriel extended his arm.

“I’m calling the cops!”

“We’re not robbers!” Gabriel boomed. “My name is Gabriel Vane.”

Shawn paused with a hand over his pants pocket. “The former tenant?”

He would’ve gone for notorious lawyer, but sure. “You know of me?”

“The landlady mentioned you. Well, bragged about having you here.” Shawn rolled his eyes. “Why are you burgling my house?”

“We’re not burgling anything!” Ida said.

Shawn looked at her. “And where have you come from, a Renaissance fair?”

“She’s with me,” Gabriel said. “I forgot something in the house. Only came to pick it up, all right? There’s no need to involve the authorities.”

“The contract and the book are in my bedroom,” Ida whispered.

“And I think I left it in the bedroom upstairs. If you’ll allow us?” Gabriel made a motion to the stairs. Slowly, with eyes narrowed, Shawn allowed them to pass. He was in the exact same stance as they returned a minute later, Gabriel carefully waving the book to show him that was all they retrieved.

“You know what, I’ve had it with this house,” Shawn grumbled. “Constant cold spots, creaking, knocking, a pipe burst—”

Judging by quiet shaking coming from Ida, she was trying not to laugh.

“And on top of it, nosy ladies coming around to ‘take care of the garden.’” Shawn shook his head and slammed the house keys onto the console table. “I’m calling the landlady, and I’m leaving!”

“You do that, good sir.” Gabriel executed an exaggerated bow and shut the front door behind them. They walked down the path, and Ida tilted her face to the sun.

“So,” Gabriel said, “looks like the house is available again. Thoughts?”

Ida looked back. “It has always been my home.” Her sparkling eyes met Gabriel’s. “But it can wait.”

The front gate screeched as she opened it. The pointed end of her boot peeked from beneath the layers of skirts as she slowly, very slowly, made half a step out. “First,” she said, “I’m seeing the rest of the world.”