Page 37 of The Ghost of Ellwood
He enjoyed playing the violin, but he hadn’t been able to play for so long. I made a mental note to buy him one the next time I came across one. I would love to hear him play.
So many things I’d learned, but the biggest one of all?
I was falling for him.
The realization smacked into me like a train one morning as we sat at the kitchen table, me drinking coffee and him reading the comics in the Sunday paper. He chuckled at something, and I looked up at him—looked at his smile and how there were tiny crinkles at the edges of his brown eyes.
That’s when I knew.
Somehow, I’d let down my barriers and welcomed him inside. It wasn’t love, for I didn’t know him that well yet. But the feeling was strong.
My heart beat faster, my breaths came quicker, and my hands shook as I held my cup. I placed the coffee on the table and dropped my hands to my lap, so he wouldn’t see them shaking.
“What are your plans today?” he asked, flipping the page.
“Writing.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe go into town for groceries. I don’t mind frozen dinners, but I’m tired of living off them.”
Theo smirked. “I still don’t know how you eat them, Ben. Food is supposed to be fresh, not jam-packed into a plastic container and frozen.”
“Yeah? Tell that to my awful cooking skills. I can make an awesome lasagna, but only because all I do is pop it into the oven.”
“I could cook you dinner.”
I tilted my head. “Really?”
I shouldn’t have beentoosurprised. He was able to open doors, hold books, and move chess pieces. He’d even started making my morning coffee. Why wouldn’t he be able to cook? It was just difficult to imagine him over a hot stove.
“I will take your shock as a compliment, good sir, but I will not accept any quips about me doing women’s work.” He arched a brow. A smile lingered in the corner of his mouth.
“No, that’s not it at all. Men can cook. Some of the finest chefs in the world are men. I’m just surprised that a…forgive me for saying it, but that a ghost can cook.”
Theo’s face fell a little, and he folded up the newspaper.
“I’m sorry,” I said, internally kicking myself. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t offend me by speaking the truth. Iama ghost.” His body flickered, and for a moment, I could see through him. He steadied, though. The same couldn’t be said for my racing heart. “Only, when I’m with you, Ben, I don’t feel like one.” His gaze locked onto mine. “You make me feel alive again.”
Strange that he made me feel the same. I was alive, but I hadn’t felt as such in a long time. My days in New York had been robotic almost. That certainly explained the passionless writing and failed relationships, both personally and business related.
And that thought led to another.
Maybe it wasn’t the house that had given me an overwhelming sense of peace when I got here, but rather, the sad and lonely man who waited inside of it. As if my soul knew him before I ever laid eyes on him.
“Forgive me.” Theo stood. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Wait.” I reached out a hand and gently took hold of his wrist. It was only the second time I’d touched him, but he already felt so familiar. Like before, his skin began to warm the longer I held him. “You misunderstood my silence. I’m not upset, Theo. I…I feel the same about you. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t stay away.”
“I don’t wish for you to stay away,” he whispered, not meeting my eyes. He slowly ran his fingertips over the back of my hand. His touch was like a winter wind blowing across my skin, and then that wind grew warmer. “Yet, some things cannot be.”
My hand fell from his wrist as he stepped out of reach.
I felt colder without him touching me. Or maybe it was the cold snaking through my chest that made me feel that way.
After showering and dressing for the day, I decided to take a walk around the property to get my thoughts in order before writing. The morning air was crisp and dew stuck to the grass. More leaves had fallen, and as I walked beneath the tree in the yard, one landed on my shoulder. I grabbed it between my fingers and studied the intricate design of stem and veins snaking throughout the orange and yellow leaf.
And then I released it into the breeze, watching as it floated away.
The earthy smells of grass, leaves, and wood smoke grounded me as I went around to the greenhouse. I hadn’t asked Theo why no one was able to open the doors, but I suspected he was the reason why.
