10. Presley
Presley
I pull into the driveway and shut off the engine. “We survived.”
Penny looks at me from her car seat.
“Barely.”
She wags her tail.
“Never grocery shop hungry. That's the lesson we've learned today.”
I glance at the bags filling the back seat. I went in for groceries and came out with everything on my list, plus three different kinds of Halloween candy, apple cider, pumpkin muffins, caramel popcorn, and a bag of treats Penny absolutely did not need.
In my defense, she looked at me with those pleading eyes. I never stood a chance.
“Come on.”
I climb out and walk around, opening the passenger side. I lift her out and set her down. Penny immediately puts her nose to the ground.
With her leash in my hand, I grab two grocery bags and start toward the house.
The late-afternoon sun hangs low behind the mountains, throwing long shadows across the yard. A breeze moves through the trees, sending leaves skittering over the grass.
Penny races ahead of me, running up the porch steps.
I climb them after her, then pause.
Something is different.
My gaze moves over the pumpkins. Lanterns. Cobwebs. Ghosts.
I look away, then back to the ghosts. I stop on the one hanging beside the front door.
It's straight.
I frown.
For a moment, I simply stare at it.
“No.”
Penny looks up at me.
I set the grocery bags down on the porch.
The ghost hangs perfectly from its hook, facing the yard.
Exactly the way I wanted it to.
Except... I didn't fix it.
Did I?
I look at the stepladder still folded beside the porch railing. I remember standing here, looking at the ghost. My arms and legs were aching. I was tired.
I specifically remember telling myself I'll fix it tomorrow.
A chill runs across my skin.
“Weird.”
Penny sniffs one of the grocery bags.
“I didn’t do this. Right, Penny?”
She lifts her head.
I step closer to the ghost. Maybe the wind fixed it.
I stare at the fabric.
Could it?
It was twisted around the string earlier.
Maybe another gust caught it and spun it in the opposite direction.
That's possible. Right?
Of course it is.
Wind moves things. That's literally what wind does.
I glance at the trees. Branches sway overhead. Colorful leaves tumble across the yard.
“It was only the wind.”
Penny looks up at me. Her tail wags.
“Exactly.”
I reach for the grocery bags, still bothered. Then I freeze.
The string.
I straighten.
Earlier, the fabric wasn't the only thing twisted.
The string was, too.
I remember looking at it and knowing I'd have to climb onto the stepladder to straighten it.
I look at the ghost again.
The string isn't twisted anymore. It's perfectly straight.
My stomach tightens.
Maybe I'm remembering wrong. Maybe I fixed it.
I've been having trouble sleeping since Grandma died.
My entire life has changed.
My brain isn't exactly functioning at peak capacity.
I could've climbed up there, fixed it, and forgotten.
Except I didn't.
I know I didn't.
I look toward the woods. Everything is quiet. Still.
Even so, the afternoon suddenly feels colder.
“Penny.”
She immediately looks at me.
“Come here.”
She trots over.
I pick her up. Her warm little body presses against mine as I stare toward the trees.
I think about the strange things that have been happening lately. The feeling of being watched.
My gaze returns to the ghost.
“No.” I shake my head. I'm connecting things that probably have nothing to do with each other.
The movement was an animal.
The feeling at the coffee shop was paranoia.
Branches snap in the woods.
And wind moves Halloween decorations.
Four perfectly reasonable explanations.
I release a breath. “It’s fine.”
Penny licks my chin.
“Exactly. We're fine.”
I bend to grab the groceries, then still.
What if someone was here?
What if they came onto the porch?
The thoughts appear so suddenly that my heart kicks hard against my ribs.
I slowly straighten.
Someone could have walked up here while I was gone. Touched the decoration. Looked through the windows. Tried the door.
My gaze snaps toward it.
I hurry over, Penny following at my heels, and try the knob.
It’s locked.
I unlock it and push the door open. Nothing looks disturbed inside.
I step into the foyer. “Hello?”
Silence.
Why the hell did I say that?
If someone answers, I'm moving. Immediately. Possibly to another country.
Penny moves past me and heads into the living room, grabbing her toy.
No growling.
No barking.
Nothing unusual.
My shoulders relax.
I step into the living room and look around. The house looks exactly as I left it. Blanket still on the couch. Remote on the coffee table.
I turn and head into the kitchen.
My mug is in the sink. The little construction-paper ghost is still on the refrigerator.
Nothing is missing or out of place.
I check the back door. It’s still locked.
So are the windows.
Everything is fine.
I join Penny in the living room.
“This is stupid.”
Penny moves in front of me, her plush bat hanging from her mouth.
“Someone didn't trespass to straighten a Halloween decoration.”
The absurdity of saying it aloud makes me laugh. A nervous laugh, but still.
“That would be the weirdest burglar ever.”
Penny's head tilts.
“Very considerate, though.”
Her tail taps the floor as she moves in front of the fireplace and lies down on her belly, her back feet kicked out.
“Maybe next time he or she can clean the gutters.”
I stop smiling.
Next time.
Ugh.
“Nope. Too creepy to even joke about.”
I stand there for another moment before remembering the groceries on the porch.
“Shit.”
I hurry outside.
Everything is exactly as I left it.
Except the ghost.
I pick up the grocery bags and bring them inside, then return to the car for the rest.
As I head back to the house, my gaze keeps drifting to the decoration.
The wind fixed it.
That's what happened.
It was only the wind.
I carry the groceries inside.
After setting them on the counter, I go back outside to close the trunk and lock my car doors.
My hand is on the doorknob when I turn my head.
I move to the ghost, reach up, and touch the bottom of the white fabric.
It sways beneath my fingers.
Nothing unusual. Nothing that tells me how it got straightened.
I lower my hand.
“It was just the wind. It fixed it.”
This time, my words don’t sound as convincing.
I step inside, close the door, and lock it.
Penny waits in the foyer.
“Don't look at me like that.”
I move into the kitchen and busy myself with putting groceries away.
When I’m finished, I head back into the living room. My gaze goes to the window.
The porch is empty.
Beyond it, the woods are growing darker.
Nothing moves.
Still, I close the curtains.
Just in case.