Page 12 of Threads of Fate

Ew.

“Hi Dana! Do you want your usual? We're out of the chorizo sandwich though.” Jessie says with a frown. “The sausage biscuit is delicious.”

“Yeah that will be fine but can you make my coffee a large? I’d take a gallon if I could.”

“Of course!” Jessie says, turning to Noah “What about you Noah? The usual?”

“Yeah. That’ll be fine.” Noah hands her his debit card.

“Okay, I’ll have that out in a minute.” She hands back his card and we go find a table.

We sit down and I automatically start scanning the walls again.

“Dana, it’s going to be fine. We will figure this out. I swear it." He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. I know we are going to figure this out. We have to because I can not, and I repeat, can not live the rest of my life like this. It’s exhausting and I’m only on day one. I dramatically and internally cry at that thought. Looking at Noah I nod and let out a breath.

So, we will drink our coffee when it gets here and I’ll pull up my big girl pants. Then we will head to the library. “There has to be something. But it’s also two hundred years worth of newspapers. That’s a newspaper every week for two hundred years. That’s like fifty two times two hundred. Which is like twenty thousand-”

“Like ten thousand. That's even if there was a newspaper and if there was even anything to put in said paper. I’m willing to bet there wasn’t.” I give him a glare for the interruption and the reminder of my math skills. He shrugs, “It’s only fair. You did it to me.”

“No, you just wanted to remind me how bad I am at math. Don't gotta lie to kick it. That is why I'm not an accountant or something equally mathy.”

“Yes, we will go search for some articles. Maybe we will start a couple years after that house was built and go from there.” Jessie came by with our drinks and food. I dig into the sausage biscuit and coffee. Everything is always better with a full stomach and coffee. Or so they say but I'm pretty sure I’ll be stepping in the same shit I was walking in before I ventured into this cafe. But at least if I’m dragged off to hell, I’ll have a full stomach.

Silver linings and all.

“Are you ready?” Noah asks as I pop the last bite into my mouth. I chew carefully as Noah watches me. His eyes dipped to my mouth. Is he reliving that kiss? Because I am now. I flush red and swallow my bite.

“No, but I guess fate wants to fuck me. So that means I should fuck it back. Yeah?” I wiggle my brows and I get an eye roll for my efforts. We get up and toss our trash and head back to the truck.

“Dana”

I hear my name again as soon as we make it into the truck. The man calling my name doesn’t scare me. His voice is deep and calming. It’s like having Hank around all over again. I sit up straighter at that thought. Maybe…

No. I dismissed it as quickly as it came on. Hank has been moved on for years. He’s never coming back.

I sit back and watch the world pass us by as we make our way to the library. Noah pulls into the parking lot and it is practically empty. Not many people spend time in a library anymore when you have the internet.

When you walk into this gaudy building you're met with huge filigree outlined doors at the front and then there are large black and white tiles throughout the whole building. The crown molding here is very intricate and makes me wonder how long it took to make it. How much did it cost? The shelves are all dark wood with ladders that run across them to get to the top shelves. There's a second story that looks down into the first. That's where all the historical books and newspapers are kept. We pass the front desk which is empty and head up to the second story. When we get to the top I just stare at the insane amount of books there are. Where the heck do we even start? I’m getting overwhelmed just by looking at it all.

“Well, it looks like the newspapers are all over there,” Noah points to his left, “so we can start there? Or we can go through the books?” Noah goes right, toward the books. He shuffles through some books.

“The paperwork said 1833 when I was signing on the dotted line.” I answer and start walking over to some of the leather bound books. Some have years and I pull out 1830-1835. It’s an old leather bound book, its companions sitting along the shelves marked for every five years. I open it up listening to the crackle of the spine. It’s interesting for sure but it’s only a weather almanac. I put it back and scan the shelves some more.

“Hey, I found this. Looks like a very nosey list of who was born and who died.” I grab it from Noah with a ‘thanks’. I continue looking around to see if I can find something that would tell me who had lived in the house previously. I pulled out another book but this one is from 1830-1840 and it says ‘Census’ on it with gold filigree dusting. Fancy. I pull that one down and walk over to an empty table.

Noah follows me over and pulls out a chair for me. “I’m going to keep looking,” he says before wandering away.

I start flipping through the ‘Census’ book to get to 1833 and find Micheal Debrough, his wife and child living there as well. I flipped to 1834 and then to the next year. I noticed they were still living there but the child wasn't listed in 1835.

I realize I need a pen to write these people down. I get up and wander down stairs to the front desk. I wish I didn’t. Lisa Vander is sitting behind the desk. Your typical mean girl. She was just a hot shot rich girl in high school and she really made life miserable. She never backed off me, always calling me ‘Spaz’ like it was a hurtful insult. Childish and pathetic since that is all she could come up with. I hardly even spoke to the girl but she happened to see what happens when ghosts get a hold of me and she just ran with it.

Middle school was worse. Probably because of all those new fresh hormones pumping through our veins and making us all assholes. But some kids in high school thought it would be cool to make life miserable even after their hormones should have been somewhat leveled out. Maybe it was to make themselves feel better about their sad lives.

“Well hello Spaz.” If I rolled my eyes any harder they would be stuck looking at my brain, watching the brain cells die off listening to her. She is in her twenties and she still acts like a child.

“We’re still rolling with Spaz, huh? It’s a pity to see that your shitty personality never grew out of age 15.” I say, why other with niceties if she’s not? “I need a pencil and paper. Where would I find those? Or should I find someone else?” I start rapping my nails on the counter, incredibly irritated. Lisa just stares at me.

“Looks like someone grew a backbone-”

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