Page 2 of Halloween Haunting
Grace was stuck with her mouth wide open, staring down at the picture with a growing sense of dread. If someone told her that the world was falling onto her shoulders, she would’ve believed them, without a single doubt. All her life, Grace imagined her perfect ending to be surrounded with a large family. For someone who grew up without siblings, without friends to call family, having children was something she wantedfor as long as she could remember. The day the doctors told her that it was impossible was the day Grace believed she failed her husband. And now, as she looked at his new girlfriend – his newpregnantgirlfriend – Grace realized where it all went wrong.
Chuck would finally have the life he wanted.
Grace snatched the wine bottle off the ground, already pouring the scarlet liquid down her throat while looking at the real estate website she clicked on. Most of the houses were rather unusual looking, though the prices weren’t anything to scoff at. They were around her budget, which she hadn’t seen anywhere else she managed to look. Grace ignored the wine dribbling down her chin when her eyes landed on one magical house in particular.
Though many people warned her not to place all her hopes on the pictures she saw online, Grace couldn’t help but feel her heart swell at the house. Not only did it sit on the edge of a solitary lake, a wall of windows overlooking the view, but the house was surrounded by a dark forest. Tall trees stood at every side. There were two stories to the house, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The pictures made sure to show a giant loft at the center of the house, where the photographer attempted to express the beauty of the view, but Grace knew that art like that could only be truly appreciated in person.
She kept scrolling, searching for the house’s price. At the bottom of the page, where there was information to put in a bid for it, laid the price. Though Grace was sure it would adjust to the incoming bids, she was aghast. How could a beautiful home like that be within her budget, as though it was meant for her? The house was already decorated for Halloween, with Jack-O-Lanterns lining the walkway and ghosts hanging off the angular roof. If that wasn’t enough to prove that the house was meant for her, Grace didn’t know what else could be clearer. She spentthe entire year looking forward to the late autumn festivities, like Halloween and Christmas.
“What do you have to lose?” she whispered.
Grace set her wine aside for the first time in days and filled out the bid application. At the very end, there was a single question and a wide text box.
Why do you want this house?
Her fingers hesitated over the keys. There were plenty of things she could say, even more lies she was capable of crafting to make her sound ten times better than what she really was. Grace let out a tired sigh as the thunder came again, as if nature was egging her forward, tempting her with what her futurecouldbe.
“Honestly,” Grace whispered aloud as she typed, “I have nothing. I have nothing and I have no one. I’m recently divorced –extremely recently– with not a lot of money to my name. Am I crazy for pooling it all into this?” She paused, already nodding her head. “Beyondcrazy. Is that going to stop me from taking this risk?Hell. No.” Her fingers rapidly danced across the keys as she described how quickly she fell in love with the house, how it looked to be plucked out of a fairytale – one that she wanted to be dropped into. No matter what happened with the house, she made a promise on the message: “Iwillbe starting over.”
And though she was still a bit drunk, Grace hit send on her message and put in her bid for the house. The laptop snapped shut as she pushed it off the bed and returned her wine bottle to the nightstand. Each movement felt like an ache in her stomach, and she was deeply ready for some sleep, but the idea of the house was still lingering on the forefront of her mind, and that was enough to keep her heart racing all throughout the late evening. The storm continued to rage outside her hotel door, but Grace paid it no mind.
Somehow, some way, Grace Baker would be starting over.
Whatever that even meant.
2
Grace woke up the next morning with a tumble off the narrow twin-size bed, her legs high in the air over her head. Thethudsounded through the small room, but it was hardly the only noise that was breaking through the haze of her throbbing hangover.
“No matter how good being wine drunk is,” she mumbled to herself, the words garbled and misconstrued in her ears, “the hangover isalwaysten times worse.”
On the short nightstand beside the bed, Grace’s old cellphone blared the ringtone that drove her husband insane.Scratch that – ex-husband.Early morning calls into the office used to drive him out of bed at the same time as her, though he had every right to lounge and sleep in as much as he wanted. Perhaps that was what drove him away – a simple overload of small annoyances that grew into one heaping mess over a long period of time.
Grace’s hand smacked down on the old stand as she searched for the phone with her eyes squeezed shut. The only form of light came from the hazy glow behind the curtains, but somehow it was enough to push her headache onto the verge of breaking into a full-blown migraine. Once she managed to collect thecellphone, she swiped and slowly rested it against her ear, the cool surface calming the hangover rush for a split second.
“Hello?” Grace heard her own voice repeat on the other end, slightly muffled with static, but still managing to sound like the grumpiest woman on the planet. Any other occasion might’ve found her trying to excuse her abrasive attitude, but Grace was in no hurry to make herself look good. At least, not yet.
“Good morning! Have I found Mrs. Grace Baker?”
Her grumpiness only flourished. “Ms.”
“Great, I –” the man’s pleased tone stopped short. “Excuse me?”
“You said Mrs. Grace Baker,” she repeated, the words piling up in her mouth like jagged pebbles. “But it’s Ms. Ms. Grace Baker.”
There was a pause as the man’s breathing produced a static sound on the other end. It remained till he was awkwardly laughing, brushing off the interaction seamlessly. If Grace wasn’t hungover, she probably could’ve done the same without batting an eye. But she was hungover and her reasons for drinking were showing no signs of disappearing.
“Excuse my mistake,Ms.Baker.”
“H-Honestly, just call me Grace.” She sat up suddenly, realizing how comfortable the conversation was becoming. The movement sent her insides rushing toward the pit of her stomach in a nauseous swirl, but she swallowed it down as fast as she could. “Can I help you with something?”
“Oh!” The speaker cleared his throat before bellowing, the sound forcing Grace to jerk the phone as far away from her ear as she could. “Congragulations, Grace! It is your lucky day! And the perfect weather to be a new homeowner, if I do say so myself.”
Grace stared at the pattern in the rug below her bare feet, her thoughts desperate to keep up, but routinely falling behind. All she could utter was, “Uh-huh” in a way that was affirmingenough to make the stranger keep talking. Grace remained stuck in place, her bottom beginning to ache from the hard floor, listening to the man without really understanding what he was actually saying.
“You got yourself an absolute steal, Grace.”
“A steal?”
