Lu looked up from her cup, searching for me. I stood in front of her, touched her face gently, and she unconsciously tipped her head, as if she were trying to hear the distant call of thunder.
“Lorde’s resting. She’s fine.” I pushed that word, wanting Lu to know that I was watching over Lorde, that I was looking over her too.
Her far-off look sharpened, and she tipped her head down, taking another sip of tea.
Message received.
“That man,” Stella said from the doorway of the house. She stood on the porch, her ghostly form half in and half out of the closed door behind her. “That monster. He tried to kill my sister.”
I sat on the porch railing. If I’d been alive, the thin wood would have cracked and creaked beneath my weight. Even after all these years, it annoyed me that it didn’t.
“He did,” I agreed.
Her gaze darted to Dot, who was talking about the peonies she’d planted this year and the bluebells she was hoping to get in the ground next year. She was dreaming of fruit trees, maybe peaches, and Lu nodded along, soaking up the comfort of this moment, of these simple dreams.
“You don’t have the book,” Stella said.
“No. Not yet, anyway.”
“Our deal was you could have the book, and I could talk to my sister. But maybe now…maybe now that’s gone.” Her hands were at her side, hanging, her shoulders squared. She’d stepped the rest of the way out of the house and looked resolved to follow the rules of our deal. She was resigned to letting go of her chance to talk to her sister one last time.
Resigned to giving up the one thing she had clung to this world for. Resigned to sitting in the corner of the house, knitting, watching her sister grow old, and waiting for her to die.
It was a grim reality for anyone, even a ghost. I was having none of it.
“The deal stands,” I said.
Her chin ticked up and her eyes went wide. “But the book…”
“We know who has it. We’ll find him. You did your part. You showed us where it was hidden. We’ll do our part and get it back. So. You want to talk to your sister?”
Her eyes shone with joy, and she took a step, every line of her body canted forward, as if she had been freezing and had finally spotted a fire.
“Yes! Please, yes, please. What do you need me to do? How can I help?”
I stood and rolled my shoulders. I wanted to turn and walk away. Grab Lu’s arm, pick up Lorde, get in that ridiculous silver truck and drive. I wanted to protect Lu from this. Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stand someone else touching her instead of me. Someone else knowing her, if even for a few minutes, more than me.
I unlocked my jaw and rubbed at the tense muscle beneath my ear.
Stella was shining and hopeful, but waiting, chewing on a thumbnail and shooting glances between me and her sister, who was thinking maybe a nice long bed of peppers would do best on the south wall.
“Lu,” I said, filling that word with my love, with my presence. She turned her face unerringly my way. I crossed the distance between us and crouched down in front of her.
I was big enough that even though she was sitting in the big old rocking chair, and I was hunkered down, we were eye to eye.
“Hey, love,” I said, brushing my fingers along the silky braid she’d worked her hair into after the shower. “Stella needs to talk to Dot.” I pressed my fingers on the back of her hand, hard enough, and with enough intention, I knew she’d feel the icy touch.
“Okay,” Lu said softly. “Dot, I need to tell you something.”
“Certainly,” Dot said, putting her tea down on the little table and giving Lu all her attention.
“Your house is haunted,” Lu said.
Dot sat there, silent for a good long moment. “How do you know?”
It was a strange answer, neither belief or disbelief.
“Because your sister, Stella, has been talking to my dead husband, Brogan.”
