Page 93 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
She didn’t mean to miss the comedy in his words, but the phrase caught at her soul and at her innermost fears, and she couldn’t help but ask seriously, “All my ghosts?”
He leaned in and dragged his mouth across her cheek to her ear and whispered, “All your ghosts. All your specters. All your ghouls. Until only I’m left to haunt you.”
His mouth trailed back along her jaw, and Norah let him. She closed her eyes as he kissed her. A breathy kiss, the kindthat made her want more and wonder what a deeper one would feel like.
“Whaddya say?” Sebastian asked, pulling back.
“Haunt me then.” Norah mimicked his accent.
“Aye, lass.” He pulled her closer.
Norah realized then that hope, true hope, came in many different forms. She was just fine with this one.
34
EFFIE
June 1901
THETOWNOFSHEPHERDhad changed.
Effie sat beside Polly on the veranda and stared out over the town before them. The cobblestone street, the trees lush with leaves, the flower gardens in bloom. Polly was a shell of herself, but today she’d asked to be carried outside. The soft perfume of the lilac bushes carried across the breeze.
But Shepherd itself was different. The town seemed softer than it had been before. Its people had somehow been humbled from the pride of lofty ambition and vain appearance when one of their own had fallen into the pit of wickedness. It was a surprise that even the newspaper failed to write about Patrick Charlemagne. Of course, it was also an odd happenstance that the Charlemagnes had purchased the paper for a rather large sum around the same time as Patrick’s being captured.
No one wanted to remember what had happened at 322Predicament Avenue. No one wanted to know who Isabelle Addington was or where her body was buried. No one pestered Mabel Opperman about the vacant property or her son, Floyd. The James family didn’t even pursue charges against Mabel Opperman for her part in attacking Effie. Effie had asked her father not to. For Floyd’s sake.
It was as if all the changes to Shepherd took place internally, yet no one spoke about them. As if by not speaking, the bad would disappear in time, and the sun would shine once again and they could all continue, albeit a little bit less prideful, a little bit more cautious, and a little bit less likely to draw conclusions about those who weren’t like them.
But as secrets went, Polly’s life was drawing to a close. The weight on Effie’s heart threatened to break it into tiny little pieces. The James family no longer attempted to pretend or keep up appearances that all inside the manor was well. The flowers had come and now adorned Polly’s bedroom, there to encourage and uplift. Yet Effie knew that soon they would be used instead to perfume the parlor for when the neighbors visited to pay Polly their last respects.
“Death is a calming thing.” Polly’s whispered words broke into Effie’s thoughts.
“What?” Effie shouldn’t have been surprised. While Effie had grown more courageous, Polly had become more introspective. Perhaps that was the difference when one chose to live life fully and the other chose to embrace death completely.
“It’s calming,” Polly said with a soft smile on her lips. “That moment you know what is coming. There are no more questions. Just rest. And peace. And hope.”
“How do you find such peace, Polly? The adventures you wished to have had? The life you’d planned?”
Polly turned to Effie, blanket pulled high on her lap, hair hanging in a loose braid, handkerchief clenched in her thinfingers. “I have so many adventures coming, sweet Effie.” Polly smiled. “Who said they stop when a soul goes to heaven?”
“But heaven is perfect,” Effie argued. “There won’t be any mysteries to solve.”
“God is a mystery.” Polly’s laugh was weak. “It will take an eternity to understand Him.”
Silence stretched between them. A warm blanket of sisterhood. A love that was guaranteed to continue long after Polly left the world.
Effie mustered the words, and Polly seemed to know just how hard Effie wasmustering. She reached across the space between them, and Effie took Polly’s hand. She looked deeply into Polly’s tired eyes.
“I will try, Polly, to be brave,” Effie promised.
“Don’t be brave.” Polly shook her head. “Be hopeful. Tears of missing someone aren’t tears that lack courage. Instead, you have the courage to feel the empty spaces, but hope for when they’ll be filled again.” Polly sighed softly, and Effie could see the physical effort it took for Polly to draw enough breath to do so. “Don’t be afraid to live, Effie. I’m not afraid to die. Fear steals our joy and is the agony of those with no hope. It will not define us. Fear is the enemy we will defeat.”
“You’re returning to England?” Effie managed to ask. She didn’t want to admit how empty she felt at the thought. As traumatic as the last few weeks had been, there was a comfort, a steadiness that Anderson had brought into her life.
Anderson nodded. “That is the plan, yes.” Cora struggled against his hold, and he reluctantly released her, setting her on a blanket on the floor, which she immediately abandoned, crawling to the window and pulling herself up by the sill. He watched his daughter for a long moment. “She needs to go home.To family. To everything England can give her. She needs to grow up near her mother’s grave and know of Laura’s legacy.”
Effie nodded, swallowing back tears she knew were selfish. Tears that betrayed the fondness she’d allowed to grow within her for the man before her. “I would like to thank you,” she said. “For everything you did to help protect Polly ... and I as well.”
