11. Chapter 11 #2
“What an encouraging ghost.” Honestly, I’m not sure. One moment it tortures me with jump scares so bad I fear I’ll join them in the afterlife, the next they alert me to boiling milk and I’ll take this little incident as shit talking my ex.
Out of nowhere, the light bulb flickers. Five seconds later, it dies and we’re in the pitch dark. Seriously? Is my home turning into an escape room, only we have to deduct what the ghost wants from us instead of trying to get out?
“What the hell?” Erik curses and his chair creaks as he gets up.
“The circuit breaker is in the hallway.” I put on my phone’s flash light and lead him over to it.
“This one is for the living room.” The first thing I did was color-code them, with the same colors I used for my moving boxes so I’d know what goes where.
The living room is purple. He reaches for the switch and doing so, accidentally cages me against the wall.
Suddenly I’m surrounded by oaky vanilla and a hint of soap and they’re clouding my senses.
“All looks good.” His body goes rigid as he notices how close he is. “Sorry.” He rubs his neck and quickly takes a step back, staring at the ground.
Oh my, is he blushing? What I’d give for enough light to see it.
“Maybe your lightbulb is broken?”
“It’s completely new though. Wait.” Two steps and I’m next to the light switch in my hallway and flick it. Nothing happens. “Okay, unless all lightbulbs in my home spontaneously decided to combust, I don’t think that’s the reason.”
“Huh.” The bright light makes hard shadows on his face appear as he thinks. Suddenly there’s another sound from upstairs and I creep closer, hiding behind him.
“Fuck, I’m so thankful you’re here.” I nudge him with my elbow and giggle nervously. “I don’t even want to imagine how much I’d be freaking out right now if I were alone with Abby.” She is still sleeping in the living room without a care in the world.
“Good thing I’m here, then.” He takes out his own phone. “Give me one second.”
He strides back into the living room, and mumbles into his phone. I wait, snaking my arms around myself. This is giving me the creeps. Thankfully, he returns only a few seconds later. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Please give me the bad news first.” Hopefully the good ones will ease the blow. I roll my shoulders and brace myself.
“Power’s going to be out for at least an hour.”
I relax. Not so bad for ‘bad’ news. I thought he was about to tell me it would be out for a few days at least. But one hour? The ice cream in my freezer might even survive. “And the good news?”
“It’s not the ghost.”
I can’t help it. My eyebrows wander so far up my forehead they disappear under my bangs. How does he know it wasn’t the ghost?
“A tree fell down and cut the power lines. All houses along the lakeshore have no power.”
“Okay.” My shoulders slump and I let out a deep sigh. “That’s actually relieving to hear.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” His warm, big hand finds my elbow and he leads me back into the living room. “Do you have any proper flashlights or candles? Save your phone battery, in case it takes longer.”
“I think I have candles.” I take my phone and shine it into one of the boxes I haven’t unpacked yet. Pretty sure I saw tea lights in there earlier.
“Ha!” I pull out a pack. Vanilla-scented. I was saving them for a relaxing hot bath, but they’ll do for now. “Does this happen a lot here? Do I have to stock up my candle reserves?”
I pull the plastic packaging apart and take them out one by one. Erik takes a lighter out of his pocket and lights three of them.
This guy is full of mysteries. Why does he have a lighter on him? Is he just prepared for any situation?
“Yes I am.” Whoops. My brain mouth filter apparently turned off and I said it out loud.
“I also have a Swiss pocket knife and pen on me at all times. And it doesn’t happen too frequently, but stocking up on candles can’t hurt.
” His eyebrows pull into a focused frown as he lights two more candles, then declares the room bright enough.
“If you don’t mind, I brought some work.
” He pulls a folded-up folder out of his jacket pocket.
“I still have to write my report about yesterday. I hope you don’t mind? ”
“No, no, no, of course. Please. Sorry, did I keep you from work?”
“Stop apologizing, Kylie. Whether I write a damned report at home or here, it doesn’t matter. As long as I have paper and a pen, I might as well do it in lovely company.”
Oh, thank God it’s hard to see colors in this flickering candlelight, because my cheeks are beet red. ‘Lovely company?’ I’ll join the melting wax of those tea lights.
I get myself a puzzle book and pen and pretend to solve sudoku while I watch him write his report.
He’s got nice handwriting for a man. It’s legible. Even upside down.
Why is that kind of hot?
I ignore the way the candlelight is flickering way too much for the movements we’re making and keep telling myself the smoke is not turning into random signs. He’s so nice for staying here, even though he’s busy. I wouldn’t fault him for leaving.
There are no more loud noises. No more things falling off shelves. It’s quiet. Only his pen flying over the paper, and mine as I occasionally jot down a number make any sound.
“I think I’ll be fine for the rest of the night,” I announce once he’s done writing his report an hour later. “Maybe the ghost has gone to sleep.”
“Are you sure?” I expect amusement, but instead I find worry written all over his face.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” I wave him off, try to sound nonchalant, then the next moment I squeal.
BANG.
I shut my mouth.
“Seems like your ghost wants me to stay.” Erik chuckles, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head to stretch his neck. “It likes me! That makes two out of three for this home.”
God, that grin. It makes me want to blurt out that he’s three for three, but a part of me hesitates. He seems almost too perfect.
Then again, if both Abby and the unnamed ghost like him, maybe I should trust their judgment.