Page 43 of Adored by the Grumpy Ghost (Mapletown Monster Mates #1)

Winston

A month later…

“ W hy does the mayor need to be here, again?” I ask Natalie as she nervously paces across the rug of our bedroom, fuzzy green socks covering her feet. Taylor Swift is playing, but it’s not having the calming effect it usually does on her.

“Do you think we should dust the living room again? She probably won’t want to do it in there. I don’t know how these things work. Do you think we’ll do it outside in the garden? It’s probably too cold for that.”

“Do what?” I step in front of Natalie, blocking her pacing path.

“The seance or whatever. Remember? I put it on the calendar on the fridge. Mayor Crane is coming over to see if she can communicate with Thomas, Ethel’s husband.”

I nod. I do remember seeing this, and dreading it.

There’s no need for people to be in my house.

Ever. No one but my Natalie. I cross my fingers, hoping the mayor will want to conduct her witch business outside.

“Come, my love.” I place my hand on her shoulders and guide her to our bed. “Now, lie back.”

She follows my command, then lets out a contented sigh as she looks up at the puffy clouds through the skylight.

“Better?” I ask.

“Much. This always does the trick.”

She turns on her side and nuzzles into my neck.

“Thank you again for installing it. It’s perfect. No notes.”

My chest puffs at her praise. I must admit, it was Lindsay’s idea, and it was a brilliant one.

After selling the painting and Susanna’s jewelry, she offered to split the five hundred thousand with me as a peace offering for breaking us up.

I couldn’t accept. Knowing that her child would have such a better life with enough funds set aside, I refused.

She countered with one hundred thousand. That, I accepted.

As with everything else, my mind drifted to Natalie, and how hard she’d have to work to save even a fraction of that.

I may be dead, but I’m no deadbeat. The money immediately went into Natalie’s savings account, and she spoke to someone who understands modern finances, who then moved it into another account that will accrue interest over time.

It was all I could do to ease the financial burden that Natalie carries by being the sole breadwinner, and I’m glad to have had the opportunity.

She did, however, take about eight thousand out of the hundred to buy me a laptop and replace various appliances.

With the computer, which I still find extremely difficult to use, I have been looking for remote work as of late. In fact, I applied to be an online moderator for Reddit.

Natalie laughed when I told her about that job application.

“Do you think I’ll be good at it?” I asked her.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, kissing my jaw. “You’ll silence those incels quicker than they can post conspiracy theories.”

“Remind me to call Linds after the seance is over. She’s dying to hear all about it.”

“I will,” I promise her. They have grown closer since Lindsay apologized. Lindsay is even seeking to learn more about her grandmother’s interest in witchcraft. She has made it known to Natalie that she wants to meet more of the witches in town, see if they’d be willing to teach her things.

The doorbell rings, and Natalie shoots out of bed, shoving her feet into her boots as I quickly wrap her puffy coat around her shoulders before she throws the door open.

“Hi, Natalie,” the woman says. She has dark skin that seems to glow when the light hits her a certain way, and her posture is so perfect, there are moments I wonder if she’s actually a statue. She and the person with her are bundled in wool coats and thick colorful scarves.

“Mayor Crane,” she says. “Thank you so much for making a house call. I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure. You did have a favor to call in, and I’m impressed you chose to use it for this.”

I clear my throat, making my presence known.

“Mayor Crane,” Natalie says, cheeks flushed. “This is Winston Duffy, my–”

“Husband,” I add. We’re not technically married. Not yet. Natalie doesn’t seem to care if we make it official or not, and I suppose neither do I. But that will not stop me from referring to her as my wife. The sound of it in my head and on my tongue makes me feel complete.

“Nice to meet you, Winston.” I watch her lean close to Natalie, and I think I hear her say, “Salted caramel, was it?”

And Natalie’s laughter is a loud, surprised cackle as it fills the house.

I follow Natalie, Mayor Crane, and her second-in-command, Ezra, outside toward the garden.

It has snowed a few times, but not heavily enough to accumulate.

The grounds are frozen and solid beneath us as Ezra lays out a large square blanket with thick black symbols in the center.

She opens a briefcase and places candles, tied bundles of leaves, and other such oddities in particular spots on the blanket.

While she does this, Natalie and the mayor sit on the corners, crossing their legs.

“I wasn’t aware we were entertaining guests,” I hear Ethel say in a tight voice.

This is my cue. I’m Ethel’s designated de-escalator, tasked with calming her down and reassuring her that none of these women are here to see Thomas. “Ethel, hello. We have a very special day planned for you.”

A smile breaks through the stiff and wary expression on her face. “Is that so?”

“Come along, dear.” I guide her over to the blanket, and Natalie introduces Ethel to Mayor Crane and Ezra, explaining their purpose.

Ethel’s eyes immediately fill with hopeful tears. “You mean… Truly? I might get to see my Thomas?” She looks to me for confirmation, and when I nod, her body starts to shake as she attempts to fan the tears falling down her cheeks.

Natalie places a photo of Thomas, taken from one of Ethel’s photo albums, in the center of the blanket.

There are many strange things that occur next.

The women join hands from where they’re seated around the blanket, closing their eyes.

The mayor asks them to hum and recite some phrases in a language I don’t understand.

Then, Mayor Crane takes the lead, and starts muttering more phrases on her own, while the rest remain silent with their hands clasped and eyes closed.

A reddish cloud appears in the middle of the blanket, hovering two feet off the ground.

Lightning cracks inside the blood-red orb, thunder echoing, while still contained inside of it.

Ethel’s face is open and filled with longing as she remains locked on the cloud.

“Ethel,” Mayor Crane says, her voice at least two octaves deeper than when she arrived. “Speak to Thomas. He needs to hear your voice. Mine won’t be able to summon him.”

She stammers at first, but then, through tears, Ethel says, “Thomas? Are you there, darling?”

Mayor Crane gives her a nod, encouraging her to continue.

“I’m here, Tommy. At our house on the hill. You should see the garden. I’ve spent a long time getting it just how I like. You simply must see the height of the sunflowers. Oh, Tommy, you would just die. And–”

“Ethel, baby?” a deep, hoarse voice calls from somewhere inside the cloud. “Is that you?”

It feels like minutes pass, with Ethel confirming that yes, it is her, and the voice asking again where she is.

Eventually, a face appears. I expect it to be inside the cloud, but it’s not.

A gray mist forms at Ethel’s right side, then shifts into a man about my height wearing a military uniform, with a rugged face that matches the photo.

Ethel leaps from the blanket and jumps toward the mist, becoming mist herself in the process. The two of them become a colorless haze as they kiss passionately and talk over each other, exchanging I love yous and other intimate words I feel uncomfortable listening in on.

I take a step back, giving them privacy.

I expect the others to do the same, but the three of them lovingly gaze at the newly reunited couple, never getting enough.

Mayor Crane utters some more unfamiliar words and closes the circle, as she calls it, letting Ethel know that even though Ethel’s spirit remains tied to the grounds, Thomas’s spirit is not, and if she ever finds herself in the garden without him, she can simply call his name into the ether, and they’ll find their way to each other.

Ethel and Thomas start to leave, the mist fading with each step they take toward the tree line, but Ethel stops, her form turns corporeal, and she races toward Natalie, throwing her arms around Natalie’s neck and almost knocking her to the ground.

Natalie’s expression is nothing short of shocked as she pats Ethel’s back.

When Ethel releases her, she cups Natalie’s face and presses a kiss to her wind-bitten cheek. “You,” Ethel says. “This is all thanks to you.”

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, puzzled.

Ethel’s gaze lands on Mayor Crane. “To think, there was someone in our very own town who could bring Thomas back to me. I never would’ve known if you hadn’t shown up.” A tear spills down Ethel’s cheek. “Thank you, dear.”

Natalie’s bottom lip trembles as she nods at Ethel, too overcome with emotion to reply.

As Ethel and Thomas leave, hand-in-hand, I pull Natalie into my side and kiss her temple as Ethel’s words play in my head. Natalie really has expanded our world. She’s our link to a community I didn’t want but clearly need. She’s changed everything.

When the mayor and Ezra leave, Natalie can’t seem to wipe the smile from her face as we stroll back to the house. “What is it?”

She shrugs, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I’m just glad it worked out for Ethel. Being able to see Thomas will be such a huge help, especially on her more difficult days.”

“Why did you use your favor on Ethel?” I ask. “Isn’t a favor from the mayor kind of a valuable thing to keep in your pocket?”

She considers this briefly, then shakes her head. “Nah. I don’t need any favors. Besides, how can I deny a broken woman the chance to find the one person who makes her whole again? There’s no favor that could even touch that.”

I crook a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to look at me. “You’re a fucking miracle, Natalie.”

We grab Natalie’s mother’s urn from where we left it, just inside the living room, and head back outside.

I wrap my arm around her, rubbing her arm in an attempt to keep her warm.

We reach the wooden bench swing on the edge of the garden, and I pull her into my lap as we sit down.

“You still want to do this? We can wait until the weather is warmer,” I offer.

She turns to face me, the brown of her eyes reminding me of rich soil, of flowers that will soon be in bloom, of warm days and cool nights with her body tangled with mine, of a long and blissful future with my beautiful wife.

“No, I want to do it today, but we’ll spread more of her ashes in the spring, then the summer, and the fall.

I want her to experience each season in this very spot.

” She surveys the garden, then her gaze pans out further, over the entire property.

“Near this house and on this land, where my life began again.”

She shifts her body until she’s off my lap and seated beside me.

After letting out a deep exhale, she opens the top of the urn and looks at the ground beneath our feet as she starts talking to her mother.

She introduces me, and I feel my cheeks heat as I wave awkwardly.

I know her mother’s spirit is not here, certainly not beneath the frost-covered grass, but nerves tighten my stomach, regardless.

I hope, wherever she is, she approves of me.

Natalie goes on to sing my praises, most of which I don’t agree with, but I remain quiet. This conversation is not for me. If she wishes to describe me as “better than a book boyfriend” for rubbing her feet at the end of a long shift at the bar, then so be it.

Once she’s said all she wants to say, she removes the glove from her hand and reaches inside the urn, pulling out a fistful of ashes and spreading them on the ground in front of us.

We walk back to the house, and I stop her at the side door, stroking along her cheekbone. “I’m not sure I’ll ever deserve you.”

She lifts onto her toes to press a kiss to my lips, and I feel it all the way down my spine. “You know, I feel the same way about you.”

My brow furrows. “That’s ludicrous. I’m the lucky one in this equation.”

She rolls her eyes. “Really? This argument again? Why can’t we just agree that real love, love that sticks, is when both parties feel like they got the better end of the deal?”

I lift her into my arms, and she lets out that adorable little squeak. “Because you’re wrong. I will not budge on this point.”

“Why are you always so stubborn?” she asks playfully, pinching me along my ribs.

“I’ve always been a stubborn asshole, Natalie. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and runs her fingers through my hair.

I halt my steps, unable to keep myself from leaning into her touch.

Her hands are like magic on my skin, and I never want her to stop touching me.

When I open my eyes, she’s looking up at me through her long lashes.

Her smile is warm, and her deep brown eyes pull me in, reminding me that there’s nothing in this universe that will make me feel as safe and steady as her. My sweetheart. My Natalie.

Her hand cups my cheek. “You’re not so bad.”