Chapter 14
The moment Lucy walked into her apartment, she could feel the quiet stillness in the air.
Oh, no…
Theresa was obviously spending the night at Steven’s house, which meant that Lucy was in for a long night. She couldn’t imagine how she was ever going to get any sleep.
Wearily, she hung up her jacket, then proceeded to turn on every light in the apartment. She still didn’t feel safe, and she wondered if she ever would again. Her head was spinning with the implications of what she had learned.
Jesse was dead. Dead. And Joel must be, too. So many things made sense now. The way they always wore their so-called costumes. Why they never ate anything. The way they fought with each other. Lucy realized they were actual enemies, having fought against one another in the Civil War.
Lucy went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She washed her face, then looked up at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized her pale, terrified reflection. She started to feel dizzy again, then took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Ghosts were real. It was like her worst nightmare coming true. She tried to remind herself of how kind Joel and Jesse had seemed. How human. They were nothing like horror-movie ghosts.
Picturing their kind faces didn’t help. They were dead. Ghosts. Spirits. And Lucy knew they weren’t the only ones. She remembered all those times in the tavern when she’d felt like she was being watched.
It turned out she was being watched.
Lucy shuddered as she slipped on her nightgown. How would she ever be able to go to work again, especially at night?
As she pulled out her cell phone and placed it on the nightstand to charge, she saw she’d missed a call and a text from Theresa. She read her friend’s message, warning her that Joel and Jesse didn’t work at The Regimental Quartermaster. She let out a sarcastic chuckle.
“Yeah. I can explain that…” she said aloud.
Lucy turned off the lights and lay down. She wrapped her arms around herself. A fresh wave of terror washed over her as she remembered her hand going right through Jesse, leaving behind a frigid chill. Cold. Jesse was cold and dead.
She lay there in the dark, listening to the silence, and began to cry.
* * *
Jesse cameto the tavern the next afternoon to check on Lucy. He remained invisible; he didn’t dare let her see him. What he saw filled him with sorrow. She looked exhausted. Her eyes had circles under them and looked puffy, as if she’d been crying. She smiled as usual and was kind to the customers, but her smile didn’t look the same. Jesse could see the fear in her eyes, and he hated himself for causing it.
Throughout the day, Lucy kept glancing at the corner of the room where she’d last seen Jesse, and she often looked apprehensively toward the front door as if she expected Joel or Jesse to show up at any moment. Jesse desperately wanted to talk to her, comfort her, reassure her that he was nothing to be afraid of, but he knew better than to even attempt it. Not yet anyway.
Jesse watched Lucy’s anxiety grow as darkness fell. She always dreaded closing up the restaurant at night, and he couldn’t imagine how petrified she felt now.
Closing time finally came, and Lucy locked the door after the last customer had left. Jesse tried to keep his distance from her as he watched over her. He imagined what would happen if she accidentally walked through him. Sure, she’d done it before, and had written it off as a sudden chill. If it happened again, she would know that a ghost was present. She might faint again, or worse. Jesse anxiously wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack from fright. How could he have been so careless around her?
Lucy began refilling the salt and pepper shakers. She gasped and her whole body jerked as the door to the kitchen swung open. Craig walked in and started gathering up the dirty glasses to take to the kitchen.
“Craig,” Lucy said, her voice quavering. “Please don’t play any tricks on me tonight.”
He looked at her with unusual tenderness. “I wasn’t going to, Luce,” he said softly. “You all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m just not feeling that well.”
“You want to go home? I’m sure Mandy would let you,” Craig said.
“No, that’s okay.”
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. And tell me if you start feeling worse. I don’t want to find you on the floor again. That was awful.”
“I’m sorry about that, Craig. Thanks for helping me.”
“You bet,” he said. He finished picking up the dishes and went back into the kitchen.
Lucy wiped down the tables and straightened out the ketchup and mustard bottles. Jesse could see that her hands were shaking. She kept looking around the room, expecting the worst.
Her breaths became shallow, and tears started to fall.
“Oh darling, please don’t cry…” Jesse said.
Lucy wiped her face with her hand and continued her work. Jesse watched her, agonizing over his powerlessness to comfort her.
Then he got an idea.
Jesse remembered that Lucy had sensed it when he and Joel were yelling at each other. She’d felt it because anger was such a strong emotion. Well, love was a powerful emotion, too. Maybe if he could somehow get her to sense his presence, feel his love and protectiveness of her, she might calm down.
Jesse followed her to the tables as she set rolls of silverware down. He began to sing softly to her.
“There’s a yellow rose of Texas, that I am gonna see…” Jesse watched her carefully for any reaction, any sign that she could sense him. What if she did feel his presence and it frightened her?
“Nobody else could miss her, not half as much as me,” Jesse continued to quietly serenade her. Lucy’s hands still shook as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “She cried so when I left her, it almost broke my heart… And if I ever find her, we never more will part.”
Jesse followed Lucy as she walked from table to table, careful not to get too close to her in case she made any sudden moves.
“She’s the sweetest little rosebud that Texas ever knew. Her eyes are bright as diamonds, they sparkle like the dew. You can talk about your Clementine and sing of Rosalie, but the yellow rose of Texas is the only rose for me.”
Lucy stopped at another table to straighten out the bottles of steak and barbecue sauce. Jesse took a risk and stood right in front of her. He looked at her brown hair that fell all the way to her waist, wishing he could run his fingers through it. He imagined what it would feel like to comfort her, hold her in his arms, stroke her hair, tenderly telling her not to be afraid.
“I love you, Lucy,” he whispered.
It could have been Jesse’s imagination, but it seemed like Lucy paused for just a brief instant. He couldn’t tell whether or not she had sensed him.
Lucy finished with that table and then got to work sweeping the floor. Jesse listened intently to her breathing, which had become noticeably calmer and more even.
She had stopped crying.