Page 90 of Eldritch

His eyebrows went up. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

After she gave him the full story of her father being stabbed, he said, “Oh, my God. And then she wanted you to go visit him?”

Sybil heard the recrimination in her mother’s voice start in her head, but she shoved it back. “Yep. And I refuse. I hope you can understand why.”

She held her breath a moment, fearing his reply.

“Yes,” he said. “With everything he put you through, I can totally understand why you feel that way. I wouldn’t visit him either, even if he was my father.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a puff. “It’s good to hear that. So many people don’t understand. It doesn’t serve me at all to put myself through visiting him. He’d only verbally abuse me.”

“It sounds like you’ve reached a new phase with your mother, too.”

Sybil liked this man more and more. “Standing up to her has been hard to do. I’ve been working on it, but she’s still here.” She tapped her temple with her index finger. “I’m trying to flush her brand of narcissism out of my head, too.”

His gentle smile made her want to sit next to him, to bask a little closer in the warmth he could share emotionally and physically. Yet she didn’t. Rushing into a physical intimacy…well, she didn’t trust that quite yet.

They talked awhile longer until she looked at her watch. “I’m feeling guilty that I’m out and socializing and the ladies aren’t.”

He stood and stretched. “They could take the van, couldn’t they?”

“True. Although none of them were eager to drive in the snow all the way to Estes Park.”

He gestured around him. “When you guys are finished cleaning the mansion, you could come out here for a going away party if you like.”

She stood and walked toward him. “Really? That sounds great. Thank you.”

They headed back to the mansion, and as they drove, her heartbeat picked up. An overwhelming sense of dread, of not wanting to sleep tonight, crawled up her spine. What if she had a weird dream about the cellar again?

“Something wrong?” he asked as he pulled up to the gloomy mansion.

“Until just now, I forgot about this bad dream I had last night about the cellar. I’ll tell you about it sometime. It creeped me out.”

“Okay. This house cleanup has probably been more stressful than you expected, right?”

“Yep.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and patted his big hand, that lay on the console between them. She squeezed his fingers gently. “Thanks for the delicious dinner. Best spaghetti I’ve had in ages. I need the recipe.”

“You got it.” He turned his hand over and clasped hers, drew her hand up and kissed it in an old-fashioned gesture. “Sleep well. No nightmares allowed.”

She let the heat of that kiss warm her from the inside out. “Will do.”

He released her hand. “I’ll wait here until you’re inside the house.”

Once she had entered the house and locked the door, she realized she didn’t feel safe in this place. Maybe she should’ve told him about her weird dream from the other night. Her awful, so real dream.

Who are you kidding? You didn’t tell him because you’re afraid he’d think you are nuts.

The Great Hall was lit up, and Letisha, Pauline and Maria sat on the couch talking. Their expressions spoke of uncertainty, or maybe unease.

“Hey ladies,” Sybil said as she moved toward them. “Everything okay?”

“We’re not sure,” Letisha said. “Maria doesn’t feel great and neither do I. My pills have stopped working.”

Pauline held up her hand. “I must be the only one that has a little energy. Go figure.”

Sybil sighed. She stripped off her outside gear and plopped down on the couch opposite Letisha. “Do we need to make a trip into town to see the doctor again?”

Letisha waved one hand in dismissal. “Not for me. But there’s something worse than us feeling like shit.”

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