Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
Wow, had he fucked up.
Cassie tried to put the whole thing aside, concentrate on work for the afternoon. But not even her secret love for puns and jam-band music could lighten her mood. All she could see was Nick in her kitchen, his ridiculously handsome face screwed up in a grimace, his gorgeous blue eyes dark like they’d been poisoned, spouting some bullshit about her job, about marriage and kids, like he was doing some 1950s cosplay.
That had hit her hard. She’d had no idea that kids were so high on his list of priorities. But she shouldn’t have been surprised. That was the default; women were supposed to be wives and mothers. It was her fault for being different. Defective.
But it was his eyes that had been the most unsettling. Normally they were such a clear flawless blue, but in her kitchen they’d been dark and angry. She added fix kitchen lighting to her endless to-do list for the house; it was obviously too dark in here.
She logged off a little after six, tossing her headphones to the table and massaging away the beginnings of a headache in her temples. What a shitty day.
She reached for her phone, pulling up the group chat. It had apparently been hopping while she’d been working: twenty-seven messages, mostly a spirited debate about car seats. Not something she could weigh in on anyway.
Nick was such an asshole today … Wait. Had she even filled them in on who Nick was? She backspaced and started over. This guy I’ve been seeing was such an asshole … Maybe she should give more specifics. They didn’t know any of the history, so she’d really have to start from the beginning, right?
So I’m pretty sure my house is haunted, and the ghost likes to communicate by using the magnetic poetry on my fridge. And today the guy I’m seeing here was a real asshole, and…
This text was quickly turning into a paragraph. Cassie tried to be as concise as possible, filling everyone in while knowing she was leaving out key details. But good enough. She was just about to hit Send when another text popped up in the chat.
I totally agree with Monika! That was the car seat we got when our little arrived, and it’s been fantastic.
They were still talking about car seats. If Cassie hit Send now to share her own problems, she’d be derailing the convo. She read through the text she’d created, then held her thumb down over the backspace key until it was gone. Then she clicked her phone off and tossed it to her table. Who cared.
Her chest tightened, and tears blurred her vision. Goddammit, she did not want to cry. She was fine. She was strong. She didn’t need a man who was going to go off on her like that. Not every group text was about her, and she didn’t need them to be.
But a small sob came from her throat as she pressed the heels of her hands against her closed eyes. Sure, she was fine and she was strong. But she was so lonely .
The ringing of the doorbell cut through her gloom, the unexpected sound bringing her out of her chair. Was Nick back for round two of yelling at her? She was still dizzy from round one.
The last thing she expected to see was Sophie, balancing a pizza box. Libby was just behind her, a tote bag in her hand and sympathy in her eyes.
“Hi…?”
“I was at Hallowed Grounds,” Libby said. “Earlier today.”
“Oh. Great.” Now their arrival made sense. She could only imagine what Nick had said about her when he got back there from her place. He’d been an absolute dick, yet for some reason he’d been mad at her? Utter bullshit.
Sophie nodded solemnly. “We thought you might want this.” She held up the pizza in illustration, but what they were really offering was what Cassie had been craving for ages now. Friends. People to talk to, and even better, ones who understood the weird-ass things that went on in this town.
She also saw it for what it was. Sure, it was sympathy pizza. But it was also gossip pizza. Anything Cassie said could and would be held against her when Sophie and Libby reported back.
But Cassie didn’t care. She had half a mind to sell the house and get the hell out of here. So fuck it; let them talk. Let Nick tell the town what a bitch she was. He was the least of her concerns.
Besides, that pizza smelled incredible, and she was suddenly starving.
Inside, she cleared off her kitchen table while Sophie set the pizza down on the counter. Libby dug into her tote bag and pulled out a bottle of red wine and a six-pack of lager. “Both go with pizza,” she explained, “and I didn’t know which you liked better.”
Cassie smiled. “I’ll get the corkscrew.”
A half hour later, they’d destroyed the entire pizza and most of the bottle of wine while Cassie filled them in on what had happened with Nick this afternoon.
“Wait.” Sophie’s eyes went wide behind her glasses. “He said what?”
“I know.” She still couldn’t believe it herself. His vitriol had come out of nowhere, and she hadn’t been able to get him out of her house fast enough. She picked a pepperoni off her last slice and popped it in her mouth. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said while she chewed.
“No, it’s just…” Sophie shook her head. “That’s not Nick. He’s a nice guy. Always has been.”
Cassie snorted. “Believe me, he wasn’t this afternoon.” She pointed at the fridge. “Even Mrs. H had had enough of his shit.”
“Oh wow. Nan was telling me about this.” Libby got up and moved closer to the fridge, examining the magnetic poetry. “She really does move those around, huh?”
Cassie nodded. “It’s feeling less and less weird the more it happens.”
“I don’t know.” Libby gave a little shudder. “I know this is Nan’s thing, the family business and all, but sometimes it still gives me the ick.”
“She really put that phrase up when Nick was here? Like she threw Nick out?” Sophie asked.
“More like she strongly suggested it,” Cassie said. “She can move these little words around, but not whole human beings. As far as I know.” God, wouldn’t that be something. Today, magnetic poetry; tomorrow, people. Would Mrs. H evolve, like a Pokémon?
Libby shook her head, still staring at the fridge. “I’m trying to remember any time Nick got thrown out of somewhere.”
“I can’t picture it,” Sophie said. “I’ve known Nick since…” Her voice trailed off while she thought. “I don’t remember a time in my life that I haven’t known Nick.”
Libby nodded in agreement. “Sure, sometimes he gets mad. Everyone does. And boy, can that man hold a grudge.”
“Yeah, but he’s such a nice guy,” Sophie said. “He’s never been…I dunno. Misogynistic or angry like that.”
“Do you think it’s because you talked about selling the house?” Libby polished off the wine at the bottom of her glass.
“I don’t know,” Cassie said. “Would that really upset him that much?” Sure, they’d had a couple nice evenings out together. And more than a couple very nice kisses. But that didn’t make them committed to each other or anything. No hearts were being broken here. Yet.
But Sophie gave a low “ Ohhhhhh ” of recognition. “I bet that’s it. If he thinks you’re leaving town…that’s a sore subject with him.” She and Libby locked eyes across the kitchen, and the two of them nodded in unspoken agreement. Cassie suddenly felt very tired. It was exhausting sometimes, feeling like you didn’t have people.
But maybe these two weren’t being exclusionary. After all, they were here, and they’d brought sustenance. They weren’t leaving her on read and then sending selfies from happy hours that Cassie wasn’t part of anymore. They were trying. Maybe Cassie should too.
“He did tell me,” she said tentatively, “something about his parents leaving town? And his sister?”
Libby nodded. “And Madison.” She said the name quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor.
“Madison?” Cassie echoed. She looked from Sophie to Libby. “I thought his sister’s name was Courtney?”
“Oh, it is.” Libby sighed. “Madison’s my cousin. She and Nick were high school sweethearts. Prom king and queen, all that.”
“Okay…” Cassie drew out the word. “And now?”
Sophie sighed. “Now she’s more like his childhood trauma.”
“The long and short of it is,” Libby continued, “he loves this town, and she didn’t. She left, and he stayed here.”
“Ah.” Cassie reached for the wine bottle, but it was empty. She shook the last few drops into her glass before giving up. “And he’s still holding a torch for his first love?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Libby toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “I love Mads, but she didn’t treat him great. She strung him along for a few years when she really should have let him go. It got kinda messy there at the end.”
Sophie nodded. “Really messy. I haven’t seen him date anyone since then, and they broke up, what, five years ago?” She looked over to Libby, who nodded in confirmation. “He’ll go out with a tourist for the weekend, but that’s about it. It’s like he doesn’t want to commit to someone who’s going to leave him behind again.”
“I really thought he’d changed. I thought…” Libby didn’t finish the thought, just gave Cassie a sorrowful shake of the head.
“His family left, his sister left, his girlfriend left,” Sophie said. “If you started talking about leaving too…” She shrugged. “Maybe it set him off?”
“Maybe.” It still seemed like an extreme reaction. Nick had been set off the way you’d set off a Roman candle. Explosive. Chaotic. “Whatever it was, he was a dick. I don’t think he and I are going to be friends anymore.”
Sophie cocked an eyebrow. “I saw y’all on the ghost tour. There was nothing ‘friends’ about you two.”
“Well, there’s no more of that, either.” Now there was something to mourn. The way that, no matter the time of day, Nick smelled faintly of coffee and cinnamon. The way his hand felt on the small of her back: solid and sure. The curve of his smile and the rasp of his beard when he kissed her.
There’d been a spark between them, that was for sure. Something that felt real in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. But that spark had been well and truly doused this afternoon. Cassie let herself hold on to that regret for another moment, mentally pouring one out for what could have been between her and Nick.
Then she pushed the regret away completely. These were still new friends, and she couldn’t break down in front of them. There hadn’t been nearly enough wine for that.
Besides, she had more important things to discuss with Sophie. It was a relief, getting the topic of conversation off her. “Speaking of the ghost tour, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Sophie perked up, seizing on the new topic. “About the ghost tour? You want to tag along again? I don’t have very many signed up for Friday, so you’re welcome to join. Any warm bodies to help it look like a crowd.”
“No. I mean, sure, that sounds like fun. Count me in. But I’m talking about Sarah Hawkins. The story you tell on the tour about her and her husband. You said you got that from that book, right?”
Sophie nodded while Libby gathered up the pizza box and paper plates. “ A Haunted History ? That’s the one. Do you need a copy? I mean, Nick has them at the café, but the bookstore carries it too.”
The café. Ugh. God, she was gonna lose Hallowed Grounds too, wasn’t she? She’d already come to think of the place as a second office. Sure, it was out of necessity when her laptop wouldn’t charge, but Nick never seemed to mind too much, and the banana bread was a bonus.
“I have a few copies at the office,” Libby chimed in, bringing Cassie back on topic. “Honestly, try to avoid getting a copy of it in this town. It’s kind of everywhere.”
“Oh, I’ve already got one.” She went to the bookshelf in the living room. She’d left it there the night of the ghost tour, after coming home on the heels of her first kiss with Nick.
Cassie brandished the book as they settled onto her living room set. “How sure are you that this book is accurate?”
“Pretty sure.” Sophie and Libby exchanged another look, but this time Cassie was less annoyed. They weren’t trying to leave her out; they were bringing her in.
“Mr. Lindsay wrote it a million years ago,” Libby said.
“And it was part of our high school class, remember?” Sophie’s brow furrowed as she took the book from Cassie’s hand, flipping through it as though she didn’t have a battered, dog-eared copy at home. “Wouldn’t he want his book about the history of the town to be accurate?”
“You’d think,” Cassie said. “But Sarah thinks otherwise. She says you’re getting it wrong.”
“I’m…” Sophie dropped the book into her lap. “Sarah told you that?” Her voice was hushed, and her eyes darted around the room, as though she could spot Sarah lurking in the shadows. Cassie didn’t blame her; she’d just started coming around to the idea of communicating with ghosts herself. It helped that Sarah was moving the magnets around more; more exposure therapy for Cassie.
“She did.” Cassie gestured back to the fridge. “When I got back from the tour that night, she said ‘wrong.’ I don’t know what part of the story is wrong. Maybe all of it, I don’t know. And then she said ‘my house.’?”
“We know it’s her house, though,” Libby said. “No one’s disputing that, right?”
Sophie shook her head. “The whole story can’t be wrong. We know she was married to C.S. We know he died. And we know that Sarah stayed on, and scared the kids as she got old, until she died here too.”
“We know all of that for sure?” Cassie didn’t want to argue. She was the newcomer. But there had to be something they were missing.
“As sure as I can be.” Sophie spoke slowly, as though she’d never had cause to doubt the story she was telling, but now was rethinking everything. “I mean, I didn’t fact-check the whole book, because I figured…”
“You figured he wouldn’t have any reason not to be accurate.”
“But what if he was full of shit?” Libby’s voice was hushed and a little dramatic after two glasses of wine. “Think about it. What if he just…” she waved a hand, “made it all up? Who was going to contradict him?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head hard. “He can’t have made it up. It’s got to be accurate. I base the entire ghost tour around that book!” She pressed her palm to her forehead, looking stressed.
“I’m not saying he made the whole thing up,” Cassie rushed to reassure her. Apparently she wasn’t the only one whose world was being rocked tonight. “I’ll look into it, okay? Maybe I can, I don’t know, ask Sarah to elaborate?”
“Oh, good idea.” Libby nodded emphatically. “Anything you need, let me know. We’re happy to help you out.” She gestured to include herself and Sophie, who nodded in agreement.
Cassie threw a glance over her shoulder into the darkened kitchen. She was gonna need a bigger fridge.