Chapter 3 The Song of Two Candles #2
“Don’t we have to wait for everyone else?” I glanced over my shoulder. Some people were still talking and clutching to their candles, while others were already holding burning matchsticks to the wicks.
“No, everyone does it when they’re ready.
As long as we’re all in the same room, that’s enough.
Supposedly, it symbolizes that we all walk the path of life at our own pace.
” He gave a short laugh. “Which is ironic, considering that my parents say that and then immediately ask when I’m finishing my degree, getting a job, and bringing a woman home, I’ll hopefully marry within a year or two, so they can start asking about grandkids.
” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll light mine up now.
You can join me or wait. Doesn’t matter. ”
He pulled out the matchbook that came with the candle and flipped it open. The same flowers that decorated the walls and tables were printed on it. Laura loved it when everything matched.
“So—don’t laugh—I know how stupid it sounds, but when we light the candle, we’re supposed to think about the people who aren’t here. To gather their spirits in the room.”
“Do they have to be dead?”
“No, just not here. It also doesn’t have to be someone from my family. You can think about anyone you want. Whoever you wish could be here with us.” He tilted his head. “Your dead grandmother, for example, or…” A grin tugged at his mouth. “…your boyfriend.”
My next breath was heavier than the last. His eyes locked on mine, almost daring me to react.
Why would he say that? Was he mocking me?
Blowing off steam? Or maybe…? Earlier, he had told Mila he thought I was cute.
So I couldn’t rule out the possibility that this was his way of telling me something without actually saying it.
“Who will you choose?” I shot back. “Dead grandmother or your boyfriend?”
His tongue pushed his lips apart ever so slightly. “Usually, we don’t say out loud who we’re thinking about. But since you’re not technically family, I’ll let it slide.” His eyes narrowed, making it impossible to tell whether he was actually offended or just pretending.
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” I said, just in case.
He held my gaze another second before breaking into laughter.
“I’m just messing with you.” His chuckle lingered as he pulled a matchstick from the matchbook and struck it.
“Since I don’t currently have a boyfriend, and my grandmother was the kindest person on earth, she’s who I’m going with.
” He shrugged lightly. “Not that I really believe this summons any spirits or anything. But the idea of her being here is… comforting.” He touched the flame to the wick and watched it catch. “So, how about you?”
It was a harder question than it should have been. Even just in spirit, there wasn’t anyone I truly wanted to invite into this room.
I never knew my grandparents. My mom wasn’t on good terms with them, for reasons she never explained.
I never met my father, nor did I ever see a picture of him. I used to ask about it all the time when I was younger, but I stopped when I realized that Mom might not want to answer because she didn’t have one.
I also hadn’t had a boyfriend in years. The last one stopped replying to my messages after he got involved in the mess with my stepfather. And it was practically impossible to meet anyone in Seastone, mainly because there weren’t many people my age to begin with.
The only person I could truly think of was my mom, but—
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Sebastian said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend either, so that narrows it down,” I replied. “I guess I’ll pick my mom.”
“You guess?”
“She’s the obvious choice.”
“That doesn’t sound like you actually want to pick her.” He leaned forward, his shoulder twitching. The light from our candles reflected in his eyes. “Sorry. That was blunt.”
“No, it’s okay. You’re not wrong.” I looked down at my hands. This was a truth I didn’t want to admit: there wasn’t anyone I wished were here.
“It can literally be anyone,” he added. “A friend. A pet. Your favorite musician. Since you won’t tell anyone, no one’s going to judge your choice. If you can’t decide, you could even pick more than one.”
My thoughts drifted through the people who’d shown up for me lately, and after a little while, they settled on the friends I had made here: Jason and Nicholas, the gay couple who owned the gas station.
They were never more than a text away. I saw them every other week.
Just thinking about them made my chest feel lighter.
“Okay. I’ve got someone,” I said, finally setting the candle on the table. I opened the matchbook, struck a match, and lit the wick. We both watched in silence as the flame steadied. “So that’s it?”
“That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” His right eye blinked shut.
“No, that was only step one. The next part’s the real kicker.
At some point tonight, you have to blow the candle out again.
It’s kind of like blowing out birthday candles.
You get to make a wish, but it can’t be for yourself.
You have to wish for something for someone else who’s here. ”
“That’s such a nice idea.”
“Maybe. But before you do, you’re supposed to talk to everyone. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone.” He exhaled sharply, causing his candle to flicker. “So brace yourself for some intense small talk.”
“Oh, that’s why you said we’d have to talk tonight sooner or later.”
“Exactly.”
We took in the two candles burning between us. Everyone else’s chatter took over for a moment until Sebastian’s quiet chuckle made me look up.
“That doesn’t feel forced at all, does it?” he said.
“I guess we don’t have an excuse now that we’ve lit the candles.”
“Oh, definitely not. Unless you want to run away with me and never come back.”
There it was again. A small comment that made me question his intentions. It wasn’t just what he said; it was the way his eyes lingered, and the easy smile that tried so hard to mask the sadness underneath.
I clasped my hands together. “So, can I ask you a question?”
“I don’t want to sound preachy, but you kind of have to.”
“Why don’t you like it when people call you Devin?”
“Ugh. I knew you’d ask that. And I can’t even deny you an explanation!” He bared his teeth at the mere mention of that name. “Short answer? The sound of it gives me the ick. Change one letter, and it’s devil. And I’m tired of being treated like one.”
While it was true that all the conversations I overheard earlier hadn’t exactly contradicted that, I couldn’t fully agree with it either. Whenever his family talked about him beforehand, it was obvious that they really loved him. They were just worried he wouldn’t find his way in life.
“And the long answer?” I asked.
“That’s a story for when I’m drunk.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fair enough.”
“Okay. My turn.”
He laced his fingers together in front of his mouth, muffling his voice slightly. “Why are you here? And I don’t mean in this room. I mean in Seastone. Why are you living with my parents?”
“That’s a good question.” It was one I’d been asked more than once. “Your parents put up an ad, looking for someone to help around the house in exchange for a room, food, and a decent salary. So the short answer? I needed a place to live, something to eat, and a way to make money.”
“And the long answer?” he repeated my earlier question.
The long answer wasn’t something I had shared with anyone here.
They all knew only the same story I had told him.
Maybe it was stupid, but somehow I wanted to tell him everything—just to have told someone.
He would be a good choice, since he’d be gone in a day anyway, but maybe it was also “…something for when we’re drunk. ”
We smiled at each other, as if repeating the phrase meant we would actually get drunk together someday. A moment of silence passed between us, drawing our attention back to the candles. The flames flickered under our breaths.
“Can I ask you something else?” he said softly enough that my eyes dropped to his lips without meaning to. “I saw all the instruments upstairs.”
A tingle spread down my neck. I had been trying to figure out how to bring that up, and now he had done it for me.
“What about them?”
Just as he opened his mouth to reply, Mila appeared behind him. “How’s it going, guys?” she asked, climbing onto the bench beside her brother. “Mind if I join?”
Sebastian made a face and shot me a look that clearly said he did mind. I couldn’t deny I would’ve preferred talking about my music without an audience, but I couldn’t tell her no.
“Not at all,” I said.
She settled in and glanced at the two candles standing close together in the middle of the table. “I see. Seb initiated you?”
“Yep,” Sebastian said. “He’s a full Draper now, and he didn’t even have to marry into the family.”
Mila ignored him and kept her eyes on me. “Have you two been having a good conversation?”
“Up until now,” Sebastian replied for me.
“Dude,” Mila said. “Why are you being so aggressive?”
“You know what?” Sebastian inhaled slowly, then shook his head. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”
“Wow. Haven’t heard that from you in a while.”
For a few seconds, none of us spoke.
“So, what were you two talking about?” Mila eventually asked.
“Sebastian was just asking me about my instruments.”
“Really?” Her voice jumped an octave. “That’s interesting.”
“Don’t, Mila,” Sebastian said quietly, almost pleading.
“Don’t, what?” I asked, suddenly aware I had missed something.
“You play the piano, and my little brother here,” she said, shooting him a sideways look. “He sings.”
“You do?” It burst out of me. All the songs I wanted to hear him sing rushed through my mind at once.
“I used to.” His fingers tapped against the table. He shifted his head left and right as if weighing how much he could say before glaring at Mila. “And I’d appreciate not being forced into this conversation.”
“Oh, come on. It’s old news,” Mila nudged his shoulder, her laugh a little too forced. “He tried to go pro a few years ago, but it didn’t work out the way he’d hoped, and—”
“Mila!” he snapped. “Could you please shut up?” His voice rose loud enough that the chatter around us quieted, drawing the attention of everyone to us. His legs bounced hard enough that I could feel the floor vibrate.
The three of us sat there, Mila hiding behind her hand for a moment before flashing a quick smile and waving at the others. Gradually, they all turned back to their conversations.
“I’m sorry about my brother,” she said to me. “He used to be more open about it.”
Sebastian turned away but stayed seated, almost as if he was forcing himself not to storm off. Whatever had happened, he clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it—at least not with his family around.
“You know what,” I said, pushing back from the table. I wasn’t interested in getting between them now. They clearly had things to work out. “I’ll leave you two to it, so you can fulfill your duties.” I gave them both a nod, but let my gaze linger on Sebastian a little longer. “We’ll talk later.”
I turned around and walked away. I lost Sebastian’s voice in the chatter—or maybe he stopped talking altogether.
I couldn’t tell because the moment I stepped away, the noise crashed in on me like a tsunami.
I hadn’t realized how much his voice had grounded me, how it allowed me to stay in a room I would have fled after a few minutes if he hadn’t been there.
But now that our conversation had ended, the chatter felt twice as loud, pressing in from every direction.
I needed some air and a minute to steady myself. Damn. I liked Mila, but why did she have to interrupt us right when things were getting good?