Now I feel like an idiot, because in a few words, Willow managed to alleviate my concerns. I’m no longer worried. Tough luck trying to prove our marriage isn’t real. I sit next to her, but not too close, my elbows on my knees. “We might need tostay married a little longer than anticipated.” If Gail starts legal proceedings, these are going to take months. A divorce right in the middle of it all would help her case tremendously.
“I’m sorry,” Willow says. “I know it must suck for you to have a stranger living in your house, sleeping in your bed.”
I shake my head and look away, trying to hide the embarrassment that must be painted all over my face. Finally, I man up and turn my head to look her in the eye. “You’re not a stranger. And it doesn’t suck. At all.” I look away again, fearing my face will tell too much. “In fact, I’ve… very much appreciated getting to know you.”
Her voice small, she says, “Well, the feeling is mutual.”
I don’t think she knows what feelings I have, or she wouldn’t be saying that. “Do you miss living on your own?”
She shrugs. “I was going to move back home to help Mom by paying rent. And then you came along,” she adds with a smile, looking me straight in the eye and making me squirm.
“We should move your stuff from your apartment to my—ourplace.” Since the close call at community dinner, we haven’t talked about her lease, but there’s something I should have thought about sooner.
That of course she’d want her shit—not saying this in a demeaning way. But she’s a woman. She needs her stuff. Is it sexist of me to think that women want to make a home out of any house? “You should change things around at Lilyvale. Make it feel like your home.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? No, no, I couldn’t. Why would I?”
“So youfeelmore at home.”And because I want you to. It’s stuffy, and full of memories I’d sometimes rather forget, and for some reason I can’t explain I’m certain the changes you’ll bring will make me feel better.
“It doesn’t sound right. Maybe if we were married for real, and even then, I think I’d tiptoe around it.”
Inspiration strikes me. “It’d help make our case that our marriage is real.” Her smile flattens a little, and I’m not sure why. She’s always the one coming up with ideas to make our marriage look real. The PDA at community dinner. The studying each other.
There’s something that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something that seems to have clicked in my brain when I saw her with our ghosts last night.
As crazy as it seems, it was as if she belonged there. In this house. In our family.
The onlyrationalexplanation I can come up with is that the ghosts know she’s the one who can save us.
Lips pursed downward, she nods. “Okay.” Then her attention turns to the side of the trail. A big smile replaces the signs of her puzzling disappointment as she cries, “Ohmygod! What are you doing here?”
twenty-eight
Willow
Moose drops something on the ground, then gives me his goofy grin. After a beat of hesitation, he runs to me, gives me a lick, then turns to Noah and does the same. His belly is covered in mud, his tongue hanging low.
“What you got here?” I ask. But before I can cuddle him more, he dashes away from my reach, picks up what he dropped off, and runs up the trail, away from the village.
I turn to Noah. “What’s he doing?”
Noah jumps to his feet. “Let’s find out.”
We sprint uphill, trying to keep up with Moose. Halfway up, he darts off trail, leading us through thickening underbrush. Trampling ferns and ducking under low branches, we follow him until we hear little cries.
Under a hollow boulder, a big brown and white dog is nursing three puppies, Moose whining in frustration. He pushes his offering closer to her then trots to us.
“He brought her meat!” I whisper.
“Hey, big boy,” Noah says, petting Moose. “What do we have here? A little secret family?”
We take a few steps closer, and the mamma dog growls.
Noah and I crouch next to Moose to make ourselves look as harmless as possible, but the mother still seems anxious.
“Let’s back up,” I say.
We backtrack to a safe distance. “I can’t believe he’s bringing her food,” Noah whispers as we crouch and observe the dogs from afar.
