“Wait . . . Mr. Blackwood, stop.” I shoot up from the recliner just before he reaches the door, the words out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I had a dream!” He pauses, his hand on the handle. “I—I met them, the boys. Well, not exactly, but . . . I saw them. Little Tommy, huddled up in the corner while Enzo was beaten. Their monster of a father, what he did with his knife. The—the disgusting so-called tattoos.” Mr. Blackwood’s face has gone sheet white beneath all his scruff, and he appears to be frozen in place as he stares at me. I take a step toward him.
“How . . .” His voice is so quiet I have to step closer to hear him. “How could you possibly know about any of that. You weren’t even alive.”
“I told you. I started having dreams. I don’t know why, or how, or—”
“Don’t lie to me, dammit!” He’s trembling now, his skin turning red, and it has me backtracking my steps. “What else did she tell you?”
“What? Who?”
“Tallulah, of course! What else did she tell you?”
“What are you . . .” Wait. Grams? What did she have to do with any of this? Mr. Blackwood stumbles toward the sofa, sinking heavily into it, his eyes still fuming.
I’m slow, careful, as I make my way to him. I’ve never seen him like this before, and I certainly don’t know how to react. I find myself passing over the recliner I’d usually choose, and instead easing into the open spot on the sofa, to his right. I’m quiet for a moment, waiting patiently as his skin returns to its normal shade, his eyes simmer down, his fingers stop trembling quite so much.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know it would upset you so much. But I swear Grams never said a thing. The dreams didn’t even start until recently, after I moved here.”
Whether he’s ignoring me or soaking in my words, I can’t tell, but he doesn’t speak for a long minute. Eventually, he reaches forward and downs the rest of the water. I’m surprised he hasn’t reached for his liquor yet, but I’m not going to be the one to mention it.
“I believe you,” he finally says.
“You do?” My entire body relaxes, shoulders slumping forward. It’s not until this very moment that I realize the power of hearing those words. It’s as though another person believing me somehow confirms I’m not just going crazy.
To my surprise, Mr. Blackwood chuckles. It’s tinged with bitterness, but still, it’s a definite chuckle. “Yes, I do. You mustn’t have read any of my books.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because maybe it takes a kook to believe a kook.”
I’m too intrigued to be offended right now. I have to see these books I keep hearing about. “Can I see your work?”
“Really, Lou, it stings you haven’t already bought a copy.”
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t—” His expression stops me, the tiniest smirk lifting his lips, and I suppress another eye roll, shake my head. “Funny.”
He shrugs. “I thought so.” He starts to stand, but a wince takes over his face as he wobbles in place, one hand just barely holding him off the sofa.
“Stay there,” I insist, already standing and gently nudging him back down. “Tell me what to get.”
“I already told you I don’t need a damn caretaker.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I’m not adamn caretaker.” I roll my eyes. “I’m a friend asking what you need.” I know I snuck the ‘f word’ in there, but I kind of want to see how he’ll take it. Maybe if I say it enough, he’ll start to accept it as truth.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and I smile. He’s so gonna be my friend. “Liquor cabinet. Two books.”
“Um—”
“You heard me.”
Okay. I make my way into the kitchen, pulling open the liquor cabinet for the first time ever. Sure enough, there are two books sitting on the lower shelf, far in the corner collecting dust. I grab them, wipe them off, and scan them over as I return to my spot beside Mr. Blackwood. “A New Dimension, andOther Unsolved Mysteries, by M. Blackwood,” I read aloud. I glance up at him, brows knitting together. “What’s theM.for?”
He grunts. “Matteo.”
“Really?” He doesn’t look like a Matteo. “I don’t know, that doesn’t really fit.”
“What are you, some kind of name expert? Do you want to open the books up or just talk nonsense all day?”
“Okay, okay.” He’s right, of course. I of all people should know how precious and limited time can be.
