Page 39 of Adored by the Grumpy Ghost (Mapletown Monster Mates #1)

She whirls on me, smacking my knee with the back of her hand. “Because this is the last place she wants to be after you broke her heart, you dick!”

My patience––what little I had of it––dissipates. “Are you fucking kidding me? You got exactly what you wanted! Natalie isn’t with me. I’m not dragging her down anymore.”

Lindsay stares at me, her gaze intense, assessing. It only adds to my anger.

“You might think you know her better than anyone, but you didn’t get to see the side she showed me. She’s not this fragile dove with a broken wing. Have you considered, for just one goddamn moment, that maybe she’s actually stronger than that? Stronger than you, even?”

She remains silent, as if waiting for me to continue.

“Do you have any idea how brave it is to trust new people after your heart has been torn to ribbons? And how many times has her heart broken? Yet she continues to trust. Continues to believe that she can find happiness in the presence of others.”

Lindsay winces, as if I slapped her.

“I can’t speak for you, Lindsay, but my heart has been chewed up and spit out endless times, and it’s only reinforced my belief that other people aren’t worth the trouble they come with.

My heart has only gotten harder, while hers gets softer.

” I suck in a breath, realizing that adrenaline is pumping through my veins and my entire body is shaking.

“Although, I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to know that you’re just as unpleasant and difficult to be around as I am, so maybe take a moment and reflect on your low opinion of Natalie.

She’s stronger than both of us, better than both of us, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. ”

I shift in my seat on the steps, and my sketchbook slides down onto the main floor, between me and Lindsay. Her hand darts out faster than mine does, and she flips it open as my heart climbs its way up my throat.

“What do we have here?” she says, tone awestruck.

She studies each page, and I wish I could read her mind.

Other than the widening of her eyes, her expression gives away nothing as she takes in page after page of drawings of Natalie.

There’s nothing in my sketchbook but her because there’s nothing else that has so thoroughly captured my interest. There are drawings of just her face when she’s smiling, of her profile when she’s looking out the window and the sun casts shadows across her cheek and down the delicate column of her throat.

I’ve drawn portraits of her sleeping peacefully, of her naked with her juicy thighs spread wide and her face twisted in lust. She fills the pages just as much as she fills my mind.

I don’t expect Lindsay to burst into laughter, but that’s what happens.

I’m ready to throw her stack of papers in the air and storm back to the attic when she puts a hand on my arm.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” She fans her face with the sketchbook, trying to cease her laughter. After a moment, she says, “You know what, Winston? You’re right.”

“I’m…I’m right? About what?”

She shakes her head in what looks to be wonder as her different-colored eyes size me up.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.

See, I thought you were a horny old man taking advantage of my very vulnerable friend, and the idea of you fucking her in the bedroom I once slept in before I got my period, I’ll be honest, it freaked me out. ”

I’m offended for so many reasons, but I also can’t figure out where this is going. “I died when I was in my late thirties. I haven’t aged a day beyond that, so I’m not an old man.”

“That wasn’t the case, though, was it?” She asks, ignoring my comment. “You weren’t in it for just the sex.” Her gaze narrows. “You were in love with her, weren’t you?”

“No,” I correct. “I am in love with her. Present tense.”

She searches my face, looking for something, and I squirm under the focused attention.

“Are you done staring at me like that? Jesus.”

Another moment, then she nods. “Yup. I see it now. You’re telling the truth.

” She chuckles as if this whole ordeal is amusing to her, then lets out a gasp that echoes all the way up to the third floor.

“Oh my god.” Her hands clutch the sides of her head, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh, no. No. No. No. No.”

“What?” I demand, growing impatient. “What the hell is wrong now?”

“Winston.” She reaches out, squeezing my shin, unshed tears filling her eyes.

I bat her hand away, disgusted by the physical contact. It’s not Lindsay that disgusts me. She pisses me off, but I think I’d have this reaction if any woman other than Natalie laid a hand on me.

“This is my fault. All of it.” Her eyes dart around the foyer, as if she’s likely to find the solution to her problems thumb-tacked to the wall. “Y-You ended it because of me. Her broken heart is my fault.” She starts crying again as she folds in on herself and goes back to muttering, “No, no, no.”

I don’t conceal my scoff. Of course, this is her fault. She should’ve minded her own business.

“Winston, oh god. I’m fucking awful.” Her sobs are louder now.

“This whole thing was supposed to bring us closer together. We’d grown apart the last few years, and it haunts me that I wasn’t more supportive when she was caring for Rita in her final days.

I knew this wouldn’t make up for me being a shitty friend, but I was hoping it would, I don’t know, mayb–” It’s getting harder for her to speak, the tears big and fat as they dribble down her cheeks onto her shirt.

“Then go apologize,” I interrupt. “This is no longer about me, so if you don’t mind…”

“Uh uh. No way, buddy,” she says, wiping her drippy nose on the used tissue she pulls from her purse. “We need to fix this together. I might have been the conductor of this ten-car-pileup, but you played your part in it too.”

I pause, sitting back down. “What do you have in mind?”

A smile stretches across her face, dimples forming on both cheeks. “Have you never watched a rom-com? This is the part where a grand gesture is needed.”

How vague and unhelpful. “Have you forgotten that I’m a penniless dipshit?”

She holds up a finger in protest. “I never used the word dipshit .”

We brainstorm ideas, based entirely on examples from movies she’s seen. None of them seems right for Natalie. What we keep coming back to is the house.

“I know I seem like a greedy piece of trash,” she says, “insisting I sell this house that was just handed to me. But it’s not like that. I have a kid, Winston. Do you know how expensive children are nowadays?”

“No idea,” I tell her honestly. “It’s just you? Where’s the father?”

She grits her teeth and makes a stabbing motion with the pen in her hand.

“He’s useless. Rarely utilizes his visitation, so I’m basically a single mom.

It’s up to me to save for college, and potential injuries or illnesses and,”––her face crumples and the tears resume––“my baby just came out as trans, and I want to make sure they, she? she has the money for all the gender-affirming care she needs. I have no idea what insurance will cover, probably nothing by the time she needs it.” Lindsay’s shoulders heave, and for the first time, I feel like I can see the expectations she has for herself, impossibly high, stacked on her shoulders.

“Billy, my ex, doesn’t even know she’s trans, and based on, well, everything, he’s going to be an asshole about it, so I’m on my own.

I just…” Her gaze returns to mine. “I want her to be exactly who she is, authentically herself, and not have to worry about what it’ll cost to make that happen, you know? ”

I nod, a tightness forming in my chest.

“I make decent money, but Boston is expensive. Selling this house would’ve given us a solid nest egg for whatever she needs.”

It’s not a comfortable feeling––agreeing with Lindsay, but she’s right. Her child should come first, and if she needs costly medical care, selling this house is the best way to get it.

“But even if I could sell it,” she adds, “I’d still be kicking Natalie out with little notice. And who knows how much I could even get for it?” Resigned, she heaves a weary sigh and shakes her head. “You know what? Just take it.”

She starts shoving the loose papers at me.

“Take what? The house?” I ask, perplexed by this sudden turn of events. “You need the money for your kid.”

“I can’t sell it, remember? The zoning laws?

Also, even if I could, it would probably take years to get to know the right people and the right resources to get the word out there, and I don’t have the time or the money to cover the repairs it needs beforehand, or schlep back and forth to Boston every time I need to meet with a realtor. ”

I stare at her, blinking slowly as a seed of yearning is planted in my gut and begins to grow.

“If I can’t sell it without having to shell out thousands of dollars up front, I’d rather you have it. Take it, please. And I’ll do whatever else I can to help you get back with Natalie.”

A thought. My body recoils at it, fights against it, but it sinks its teeth in so deep that the words fly out. “Come with me. I think there’s a way for both of us to get what we want.”