Chapter 8 Dove #2
Finally, her lips twitched. She thumbed the bottom of her menu. “Yeah, okay. We do need to talk about it.”
I took a sip of water. “So, I think we should split the costs fifty-fifty across the board.”
Ellis nodded once, tapping her glass with one finger. “Yeah. That makes the most sense.”
“Cool,” I said. “I’ll be honest, I’ve only just taken over the shop and haven’t started paying myself yet. I have roughly fifteen hundred dollars I can contribute without blowing a hole in my pocket.”
“I can track expenses,” Ellis said with another nod. “I have four hundred in cash and about a grand on my card. Anything I fall short on, I’ll pay you back once I get access to my trust.”
“I’ve never met anyone with a trust before,” I said, regarding her. “Your content must be good if you’ve made enough to put it into a trust. Too bad you didn’t get a chance to sign everything before Liv popped up.”
“Hmm,” Ellis muttered, looking back at the menu.
“I was thinking about setting up an online shop,” I blurted out, unsure why I was even telling her. She glanced up from her menu. “I draw. Sometimes customers see my art in the store and buy it… so I thought maybe I could sell online as well.”
Ellis blinked, like she wasn’t sure what to say, or maybe confused about why I was telling her this. But she was clearly a big-time content creator, and I was just getting started. There was a small, niggling part of me that wanted to impress her.
“Apparently people really dig half-naked forest nymphs,” I added lamely, feeling heat climb up my neck.
She smiled—a real smile—one that spread true and easy across her face, transforming her usual somber, guarded expression into something warm and genuinely alluring. Her green eyes sparkled as she closed her menu.
“I mean,” she said dryly, “who doesn’t?”
It was my turn to blink… Ellis liked half-naked forest nymphs?
A waitress appeared before I could say anything else, and we ordered. Ellis went with a depressing-sounding veggie wrap—no cheese, no sauce—and a side salad. I ordered waffles with strawberries and bacon, like someone who still had the will to live.
I studied her as she ordered, noticing how carefully she subtracted ingredients, pointing them out specifically on the menu, putting extra emphasis on the no this and no that.
I wondered if her restricted diet came from the heart surgery or the after effects of it.
I frowned slightly, remembering Liv’s mocking words earlier. Something about getting through chemo.
Ellis’s eyes flicked back to mine just as the waitress left, and I quickly looked away, taking a final gulp of my water.
She turned to stare out the window, and I didn’t miss the way the afternoon light hit her hair.
Her red locks caught the sun, a soft glow surrounding her as she looked out, appearing deep in thought.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
Ellis turned to me, something tight in her eyes. “You just did.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in the booth, getting comfortable. “Do you always approach life like it’s a project to manage?”
She paused, tapping the edge of the table with her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe. Is that a bad thing?”
I shrugged. “I mean, not really. You do you and all that. But you—you’ve been acting like this road trip is something you can… like you can bullet-point your way through. But you’re on the road with a stranger and some sort of ghost tornado in human form… or ghost form.”
Ellis seemed to think carefully before responding, chewing the inside of her cheek for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh.
“I don’t like chaos,” she said, her tone tight. “I don’t react well to it. I need structure. I need a guideline. Today has been literal chaos. I mean, I started the day stealing human remains.”
“Borrowing,” I corrected.
“Still a felony.”
I found myself grinning, unable to help it.
“Well, for someone who doesn’t do well with chaos, you handled today better than I would’ve expected.”
“I smashed a mirror,” she pointed out, in that dry Ellis tone I was beginning to recognize as her default.
“For a good cause,” I said, still grinning. Once again, the muscle in her cheek twitched, like she was fighting her own smile.
“You screamed bloody murder,” she added, leaning on her elbows.
“You screamed too.”
“I screamed after you screamed,” she scoffed.
“So I startled you into screaming?”
“Exactly.”
Silence fell over us again, but it didn’t feel as stiff as before, and it certainly wasn’t arctic like it had been for most of the drive here.
I glanced around the room and spotted Liv in the corner, slapping an out-of-order jukebox before placing both hands on it.
“I command ye, jukebox, to work! Listen to your dead overlord!” she shouted, shaking it roughly.
The speakers crackled. My eyes widened as the machine lit up suddenly, and a second later, a song from the Grease soundtrack blasted out far too loudly.
“Okay, that was a fluke!” Liv called over her shoulder. “I did not expect that to work.”
“Barbara!” our waitress gasped, and I whipped my head around just in time to see her walking toward us with our food. She set the plates down without even looking at us, her eyes glued to the jukebox.
“How in the world…?”
“Is that what I think it is?” asked the woman who must’ve been Barbara, emerging from the double doors that led to the kitchen. Her mouth hung open. “How did that happen?”
“No idea!” our waitress said, hand pressed to her chest. “It just started playing out of nowhere!”
Liv smirked and blew us a kiss before moonwalking away, flipping a peace sign as she went.
“Well, I never,” Barbara said, shaking her head with a shrug. “That’s a win. Now we don’t have to pay to fix it. Oh, this is a good one, isn’t it, Mav?”
The two women began to sway behind the counter, and I glanced at Ellis. Her green eyes had gone wide again, in that same fearful way they had beneath the Gemini Giant, when the ghost chasers tried filming us. Like she was terrified of being caught with a ghost no one else could see.
“You ever wonder what Liv was like before?” I asked.
Ellis turned to me, tearing her eyes from the jukebox.
“Yes,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I mean, she’s certifiably insane, and I don’t know if that’s a death thing or just who she is.
And if it is who she is, then her wild heart is beating in my incredibly stiff, put-together chest.” Ellis frowned and poked her veggie wrap for a second before looking back at me.
“It’s weird. I mean… someone’s heart—her heart—beats inside my chest, and I know nothing about her. This person who’s keeping me alive…”
“You know her name now,” I said, still trying to wrap my head around Ellis’s thoughts. “It’s a start.”
“Yeah,” Ellis muttered.
How did it feel? I wondered idly. To have someone else’s life force inside your body?
Did it feel foreign and unfamiliar, or was it something normal, maybe even natural?
Ellis took another bite of her veggie wrap and seemed to actually enjoy it.
Or maybe she just forced herself to like it.
Who knew? What else did she have to force her way through in life?
“So,” Liv’s voice chimed suddenly beside me, and I choked on a strawberry as I caught her in my peripheral vision. “We heading to Lincoln House or what?”
The Lincoln Home stood behind me, a grand and stately structure preserved through time, proudly lording over the historic site at the center of its quiet street.
It was a two-story house, painted a warm ochre, with green shutters framing each window with confidence.
I wouldn’t have paired the two colors myself, but who was I to judge 1800s style?
Ellis stood a few feet ahead, facing the house, her back straight and chin slightly lifted as she spoke into her camera. She looked less tense now, a bit more relaxed since we’d left the diner, but she was definitely in camera mode. Her voice carried faintly toward me, steady and polished.
It was just like earlier, when she’d filmed in the car. She played this version of herself she’d created for her followers. Measured, chirpy and curated. As soon as she stopped recording, her entire demeanor shifted, and she’d frown while reviewing the footage.
We’d just finished the tour inside. The scent of must and wood polish still clung to my clothes, and I crinkled my nose.
I looked back toward the house and stifled a yawn, watching a group of elderly tourists file inside, each of them wearing a matching sun visor and bum bag, dressed in varying shades of white, pink, or blue, clutching museum pamphlets like they were tickets to the Louvre.
This was so boring.
Ellis began walking over, pocketing her phone as she approached. She glanced up at the house, a thoughtful expression settling on her face.
“I missed out on coming here during a class field trip once,” she murmured, frowning. “Everyone came back with cool souvenirs, talking about how great it was.”
“Why’d you miss out?” I asked.
“Got sick,” she muttered with a shrug.
“That sucks,” I told her, leaning against the property’s fence. “Well, you’re here now. You can still grab yourself a souvenir. If they sell those stovepipe hats, I definitely want one.”
Ellis snickered faintly, then sighed. “So, I have some bad news.”
“Oh?” I asked, straightening up. “What?”
“The action park is closed for maintenance,” she said. “We can’t go today.”
Relief flooded me, and I found myself grinning. “Really? Thank God. I am exhausted.”
Ellis raised an eyebrow. “I expected more disappointment.”
“Maybe from Liv,” I murmured. “But I’m so tired I don’t think I have the energy to do anything there anyway. And I doubt it’s the only park on the route.”
“It’s not,” Ellis said with a nod. “Okay, well... we should break the news to Liv—”