Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
THEO
Iwatch from the window as Kennedy finally comes back inside. I hadn’t heard her leave, but something in my gut alerted me to her absence as I was meandering through the library.
I noticed earlier in the day that a stack of old magazines I’d placed by the door had been disturbed.
I put them there to remind myself to ask Aidan to throw them out, but I still forgot.
What captured my attention was the painting on the floor.
My painting. The one I’d done of the Empire State Building in New York City.
I assumed the wind must have disturbed it and went about my day, but now my mind circles back to it.
I stopped painting around the same time I started spending all my time in the void.
Up until that point, learning about how big the world was occupied most of my mind.
The subscriptions were from the family who’d just moved out, only they'd forgotten to cancel them, so for years afterward, I continued to receive monthly magazines with pictures of what I was missing out on.
I painted them as a form of connecting with the images.
Aidan brought me the supplies I needed, and for a while, it was a decent enough hobby to occupy me, but like all things, the spark of creativity eventually faded.
Seeing the painting made me wonder what else had been forgotten in this abandoned house.
This led me to the library, and for the past several hours, I’ve been combing through old journals and texts.
The only books that didn’t have a layer of dust were the ones Aidan retrieved when he came searching for any useful information on vampire mates earlier this year.
The rest of the room looks as if a veil has been draped over every surface, shrouding the titles along the spines.
One book, sitting slightly out of place on the shelf, stood out to me because of the faint fingerprints along the edge. Instinctively, I grabbed it, placing my own fingers in the exact spots Kennedy’s had been yesterday.
Whether it was this connection to her or simply good timing, something pulled me to the window. I catch the tail-end of her wispy form floating back through the window adjacent to me, and I wonder where she’s been.
I wonder whether I have any right to know.
This woman is living in my house, and though I’ve tried to help her in my own way, I don’t feel as if I’ve connected with her.
My subconscious is begging me to make the effort, but I don’t know how.
Suddenly, I feel like a teenage boy again, introducing myself to a girl in my class for the first time.
Perhaps it is a bit like that. Maybe, instead of trying to readjust, I should just start over.
I meant what I said about answering her questions.
It wasn’t my intention when I first offered up my home, but I think it should have been.
After all, did I truly believe it was possible to have a new ghost living here and never interact with her?
Even if I did believe it, it didn’t work.
She’s occupied nearly all of my thoughts since she arrived.
I’ve become concerned with her wellbeing, her whereabouts, and anything to do with the damn woman.
I’m entranced, and we’ve barely exchanged a hundred words.
And instead of pondering over it like a pretentious Victorian ghost, I will channel my human side and speak with her—like a man.
But also like a man, I’m a coward, so I will make her come to me.
As I venture downstairs, I realize I’m still in my physical body.
I removed my jacket after feeling warm in the library, but the chill of the house is much more intense on the first floor.
Though Kennedy seems to be in her spirit form, I decide to start a fire.
Not only for myself, but if she decides to shift I want this home to feel warm for her.
I’ve noticed her preference to be in her body, and I can understand how that might be comforting to her in the early days of her death.
The fireplace is still warm from the dying embers of last night’s fire, so all I have to do is give it a spark. My magic is weaker now that I’m a ghost, but it’s still there. The small things I used to be able to do feel even smaller now, but I’m grateful for them all the same.
A flame comes to life and I watch as it catches. Heat begins to reach my face, and I relax into its caress. I can’t hear Kennedy moving around upstairs, so I walk over to the banister and peer up to the second floor. The hallway appears still, but then I catch her flickering shadow.
“Can’t sleep?” I call up the stairs, hoping I haven’t startled her.
Kennedy’s face appears over the railing with a bemused expression. “What gave me away?”
I release a puff of air through my nose and gesture for her to join me. “Come down.”
Her eyes narrow, looking for an ulterior motive. After a few seconds, her brows relax. Her transparent figure floats down to where I stand, gliding over each step.
“Do you ever rest?” she asks. I hear no hint of sarcasm, so she must be genuinely curious.
“I don’t need to,” I say, walking back toward the fire’s warmth, my shoes tapping against the hardwood.
She follows me, listening intently. “I used to spend a lot of time in the void. It was my way of not coping with my circumstances. And when I wasn’t dissociated, I was in my spirit body, so I never got tired. ”
She looks down at her own ghostly figure. “I think I’m starting to understand the physics a lot better.” She chuckles lightly. “As long as I’m corporeal, I can do anything I could when I was human.”
“Most anything,” I correct her.
She frowns.
“Well, you can’t die again.”
My comment triggers a boisterous laugh to erupt deep from her belly, thus setting loose butterflies in mine. Her joy is contagious, and I don’t ever want to stop that feeling.
“I guess that’s true,” she says, settling into a content smile. She crisscrosses her legs and hovers above the floor in front of the fire, and I join her. “So I can touch things, change my clothes, and sleep when I’m tired,” she ponders aloud. “What about food? Will I get hungry?”
I shake my head. “Technically, no. But you can eat.”
She raises both arms straight above her, fists clenched. “Yes! I am most definitely going back for those blueberry scones tomorrow!”
“You found scones?”
Kennedy’s shoulders shrink inward, her eyes avoiding mine. “So, I didn’t just meet the mayor today,” she admits sheepishly. “I sort of found my sister.” She tucks a lock of red hair behind her ear.
This is news.
“You mean, she’s here? In Shadow Hills?”
She nods. “She owns the bakery. I had no clue.”
“Well that’s…wonderful.” I swallow a lump of jealousy as it collects in my throat. I shouldn’t feel this way, but up until this point, I thought I would be Kennedy’s only guide. Her only friend.
If she has her sister, why would she need me?
“How was it?” I ask, forcefully moving past my own insecurities.
She tilts her head. “It was a relief, I think. Just knowing she’s here. We lost touch for a while.” She grimaces, biting her plump bottom lip. “I can’t imagine what she must have thought…when she heard what happened to me.” Then she shrugs. “Whatever it was.”
Instinctively, I reach for her, but I can’t touch her.
I shift my hand so our spirits can overlap.
It’s the closest I’ve come to physically touching another person in decades, and immediately I feel that same tingle in my fingers that I felt as I took her hand in the void.
The warmth I’m coming to associate with her floods my senses.
It feels both natural and earthshattering all at once.
We both look down at where my transparent palm rests on the crook of her leg, and the words I know I need to say suddenly come to me. “It doesn’t matter how you died. What matters is that you’re here now.”
She peers up and meets my gaze with watery lashes. “It really does feel like I’ve been given a second chance.”
I wish I felt the same.
Something urges me to lean closer, but not too much. Just enough that I can smell a hint of her perfume. Jasmine and verbena. She must have been wearing it when she died.
In any other reality, this would be the moment I kiss her. The tension has been built, and she’s just been vulnerable with me. It’s the perfect moment, but I’m nowhere near prepared for something so terrifying.
So, I pull back.
“Did you have any other questions for me?” I ask bluntly.
I see the sudden change in mood physically shake her, but she recovers quickly.
“I’m not sure.” She glances around the room, eyes landing on the fireplace in front of us. The blue in her eyes flickers with reflected light as something comes to mind. “What do you do all day?” she asks.
It’s not the question I expected, and I don’t think she wants to hear my answer.
Lately? Wait for you.
I can be vulnerable, but that’s too much for me to divulge at this moment. Especially since I still don’t quite understand it. So I choose something else.
“I used to read a lot. I liked learning about the world, and sometimes I would paint the things I saw in books.”
Her eyes widen eagerly. “So that was your painting I found!”
I purse my lips. “So that was you snooping through my magazines.”
She feigns embarrassment. “Guilty.”
The single flame I summoned has now engulfed all the wood that was left in the grate. I shift back slightly away from the intenseness of the heat. Kennedy shifts as well, but she moves to face me.
“It was really good,” she says. “Do you not paint anymore?”
I shake my head. “Not since I stopped receiving the magazines.” I scratch my temple. “I guess the subscription ran out. Or someone finally wised up and cancelled it.”
“I could find current issues for you. There’s a lot that’s happened in the world since JFK was in office.”
I force air through my nose. “I’m aware that time has not stopped with the mail.”