41
Tristan
It’s the day before Halloween, and I can’t seem to shake the feeling that there’s bad luck around the corner.
I’ve never been one for suspicion; dying will open up a person’s mind to how vast and multilayered the world really is.
However, even I have to admit the odds seem stacked against us.
Halloween, the full moon tomorrow, a storm rolling up along the coast—all on top of the woman I love slowly turning into a ghost.
I haven’t been sleeping. I stay up to hold Demi and make sure she’s alright. It feels like she’s disappearing, and it terrifies me.
Sitting in the kitchen, I drink deeply from my second cup of black coffee. All I want is to bring Demi a cup, too, but she can’t taste anything and can’t stomach any food or drink right now. It feels cruel and unfair, enjoying this cup of coffee without her.
I hear Demi coming down the stairs, and just the knowledge of her nearness makes my skin buzz.
When she comes into view, the air leaves my lungs.
No matter how often I see her, I’m never prepared for her beauty.
Even though she is obviously exhausted, her normal glow dulled down under the weight of everything going on, she’s still an absolute smoke show. My golden girl.
She’s shrugging on a dark brown wool coat and wrapping a red scarf around her neck. Her hair is tucked into her collar and scarf. With a graceful flick of her hand, she pulls it out and lets it fall across her shoulders. How can such a small, everyday gesture be so mesmerizing?
“Cold?” I ask casually, knowing if she says ‘yes’ that I’ll jump up to add more wood to the fires and turn up the manor’s heat, no questions asked. All I want in this whole world is her comfort.
“No,” she shakes her head with a smile. “Going on a walk. Want to come?”
I’d walk with you anywhere. Follow you like a dog.
Instead, I swallow the rest of my coffee and say, “Yep.”
Outside, the wind blows sharply, a portent of the storm that’s coming our way.
I take her hand in mine and try to ignore the few seconds of ?flickering .
Like a light switch being toggled, I can feel her hand in mine, then not, back and forth until the sensation settles.
I squeeze her fingers once to prove to both of us that she’s still there.
Leaves crunch underfoot. Demi closes her eyes and raises her face to the sky, taking a deep breath of the autumn air. A smile lifts the corners of her pretty mouth, and it warms my heart.
“I love the fall,” she says.
“I love you ,” I say.
She opens her eyes and grins, purposely bumping into my shoulder as we walk. “My romantic old man.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“So, what do you think?”
Not sure what she’s asking, I reply, “About what?”
“It’s Halloween tomorrow. ”
“And?”
“Should we haunt the house and scare the shit out of the townie kids?”
I laugh. “Oh, yes, absolutely.”
Every Halloween without fail, a group or two of Ivy Hollow’s bravest children will dare each other to visit Beaumont Manor. The dare usually involves running up to the house and knocking on the door. On very rare occasions, they’ve tried to get inside.
In response, I usually deliver some light haunting.
“Teach me your ways,” Demi says.
“Well. I liked to bang on the other side of the door just as they’re about to knock. Turn the lights on and off. Push something around on the porch.”
“That’s all it takes?”
I shrug. “Haunting is pretty easy.”
“I feel like we can do better.”
“I have almost fifty years of haunting experience over you, and you think you can do better?” I squeeze her hand again, and she bites her lip to keep from laughing.
“I said ‘we’.”
“Okay, what do you suggest?”
“I don’t know. Sound effects? Fog machine?”
“Is this a haunting or a stadium concert?” I chuckle.
“Why not both?”
Goddamn, I love her wit.
I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the perfect scent of her.
We reach the gate at the end of the driveway, and I let go of her hand just long enough to swing one of the doors open. I walk through first, and before I have time to reach back for her hand again, I hear her gasp .
Her face is stricken when I turn to look at her. She’s gone pale, a line formed between her eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
“The house, yes. The property, no,” she whispers, more to herself than to me. She’s staring into the space between us, lost in her own thoughts. The frightened look in her eyes is almost enough to eviscerate me.
“What’s that, baby?” I ask gently.
Demi blinks and comes back to me, but no less afraid.
“It’s what you said when I asked if you couldn’t leave the house. ‘The house, yes. The property, no.’ Oh, god, Tristan.”
I step back to her side of the gate and close it behind me, then I slide my hands around her shoulders until she looks up to meet my gaze.
We left the property just yesterday to go to the beach, so this is a new development.
I know this is bad, but the last thing Demi needs right now is for me to panic and validate all her fears.
She needs someone to be calm, strong, unmoved.
I can do that for her.
I can be whatever she needs.
“Good thing there’s plenty of property to explore. Let’s go to the backyard. I want to show you my plans for the garden this spring.”
Demi’s eyes fill with tears. She looks so fucking sad.
“This spring?” she asks. “Tristan, what if I’m not—”
I kiss her to keep her from finishing that sentence. I know what she was about to say. What if I’m not here? But she will be, even if that's the last thing I do, I’ll make sure she’s here .
She’s trembling, and as I pull away from our kiss, I take her face in my hands.
“You will be,” I say. “You’ll be here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She gives me a brave nod.
I’m not sure if she believes me, but I hope she does. Inside, I’m breaking apart, but I refuse to show that to her. Demi has grown up in a family of helicopter women who’ve always treated her like she can’t take care of herself. I know she can.
I know the way to take care of her is to be the rock against which her waves can break.
“Come on. Let me show you where we’re going to plant the pumpkin patch,” I say, slinging my arm around her shoulders and leading her back the way we came.
“Pumpkin patch?” she asks, her voice perking up just enough to let me know that whatever I’m doing is working enough to relax her at least a little bit.
“Yes. You have at least twenty pumpkins on our porch right now. Wouldn’t it be nice just to pick them from the backyard instead of lugging them home from the farmer’s market?”
Her trembling dissolves, her shoulders drop a little.
“Damn. I could have twice as many pumpkins on the porch next year.”
“As many pumpkins as you want.” ????????I navigate us along the overgrown cobblestone path that leads from the front of the house all the way around the side to the back gardens.
Demi did a lot of work on the manor when she moved in but hasn’t gotten around to much landscaping.
Which is just as well; she’s already done more than her fair share. This can be my job.
Once we reach the backyard, I kick twigs and branches out of our way as we wander.
I point out where flowers used to bloom, where the heirloom lilac trees stand, now bare of their leaves, and the old rose garden.
I show her where my family used to plant tomatoes, the herb garden still, surprisingly, bearing a decent amount ?of herbs.
I show Demi the big empty plot behind the greenhouse where we can plant her pumpkins.
“Tristan?” she asks after letting me go on and on about all of my plans for spring with her in the garden.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” The wind picks up a strand of her hair, and I tuck it behind her ear.
“For loving me the way you do.”
Her words are a gut-punch, and the look of love in her eyes just about takes me to my knees. She deserves to be loved the way I love her, and then some: more, plus infinity.
“I’ll always love you like this. Hopefully even better.”
Demi rises on her tiptoes to kiss me. It’s tender and sweet, with just a hint of mourning I try to push through.
Holding her close, I feel her phone vibrate in her coat pocket.
She breaks the kiss, pulls her phone out, and looks up at me.
“It’s my aunts,” she says with a sickening mix of hope and fear .
When she answers, she puts the call on speaker so that I can hear.
“Hi, honey,” Kitty says.
“How’s it going?” Demi asks. I take her free hand in mine and let her grip my fingers tight.
“We have some news.”
Holy shit.
“What news?” Demi asks.
“We found two solutions.”
Relief cascades through me. Demi’s eyes light up like the sun.
Kitty continues, “But you’re not going to like either of them.”