The Haunted - Jessica Verday [3]
A sudden buzzing noise caught my attention, and the massive dome light over the big red barn started kicking on. It wasn’t dark yet. Not even dusk, but it would be. Soon. The light steadied and burned bright, and the buzzing slowed.
Everything felt safe here. Normal. I didn’t want to admit to myself that something was missing. There was a small hole inside of me. But unlike the black void that had been left behind when Kristen died, this empty space felt like it could be filled again.
“I got a call from Mom and Dad,” I told Aunt Marjorie, looking down at my bare feet.
“Weekly update?”
“No.”
I traced a crack in the porch floor with my eyes, following it as it disappeared under my heel. “They want me to go home early.”
She didn’t say anything, and I knew she was waiting for me to carry the conversation.
“They want to have this dedication ceremony at the bridge, where Kristen… died. And they sprung it on me at the last minute.” I shifted my body so that I could see her face. “Do you think I’m ready?”
She faced me too, and I could see years of wisdom in her eyes. “Do you think you’re ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“What would be some of the benefits?”
I thought about it for a minute. “Well, I’d be home, for one thing. Back in my own room.
Able to work with all of my perfume supplies again.” She nodded. “And?”
“I’d get to see Mom and Dad and Mr. and Mrs. M.”
“And you might get some closure,” she said. “You’d be surrounded by the love and support of family and friends as you honored Kristen’s memory.” Now it was my turn to nod.
“Good. Now what would be some of the drawbacks?”
I had a whole list of answers for that one. “I could break down again. Have nightmares.
Lose sleep.” She put her hand on mine and squeezed gently. I kept going. “I could go completely insane. Freak out my parents. Have everyone in town start talking about me. Lose it in front of the Maxwells. I just thought I’d have more time—” She squeezed my hand harder, and I broke off.
“That’s quite the list of negatives.”
“Yes, but all things that could possibly happen,” I pointed out. “If it happened before, it can happen again.”
“That’s true,” she said. “But if it did, you would be better prepared to handle it now. You have your parents, Dr. Pendleton, me… So, what’s your gut telling you? Do you think you’re ready to go back?”
I sat quietly, contemplating her question. My gut told me that sooner or later I was going to have to go home. I couldn’t stay away forever.
It also told me that I needed to be there for Kristen. First and foremost, she was more important than me. And Caspian…
I had to face that truth too.
“I need to go back,” I said softly.
She nodded. “I thought that would be your choice.”
The seat beneath us shifted in an easy rhythm, and there was a gentle pull on the back of my calf muscles every time my knees stretched to propel us forward. The motion was soothing, a relaxing kind of ache that made me think of riding a bike for the first time after the winter snow had melted.
“There are a lot of nee-deeps this year,” Aunt Marjorie commented, and I turned my head toward the dark line of trees that swallowed the back of the barn. A swampy forest lay within a dozen feet of the trees, and the toads that lived there swelled in a symphony, croaking out a cacophony of sound that started and ended in a blur of syllables that made up their nickname.
“Great,” I replied. “Guess I’ll be sleeping with headphones on again tonight.” She chuckled. “I actually like them. They remind me of hot summer nights with your uncle.
Cool breezes, the rasp of an overhead fan, rumpled bedsheets.” She grinned at me, and I felt my cheeks flame.
“And moving on to other subjects… Thanks for letting me stay with you, Aunt Marjorie. Being here… away from everything there… was exactly what