Page 13 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow
“Where’d you go this time?” Artie cocks his head curiously.
I chew a large bite of my sandwich and swallow. “America.”
His eyes widen. “Where the cowboys come from?”
I snort. “Something like that.”
“Why?”
“It’s where I live.” I take another bite of the sandwich and groan. Aggie has put some sort of mustard in it and it’s fucking delicious.
Artie frowns. “I thought you was stayin’ here?”
I slow my chewing, giving myself enough time to formulate my response before I swallow. “I am staying here, but it’s complicated. I also have another life in the US, one with responsibilities that I can’t just disappear from.”
“But this is your home, it’s where you was born,” he argues. “I remember that night, you know.”
“What night? When I was born?”
He nods. “After your mum and dad went to sleep, I snuck into your nursery and peeked in your crib. I couldn’t wait for you to get bigger so I’d have someone to play with. Someone to talk to. You was my best friend, Morgan.”
God, this kid is breaking my heart.
“I’ll always be your friend, Artie, but I’m a grown-up now, and sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
He looks confused. “So is stayin’ here the right thing to do?”
“I honestly don’t know.” I stare down at my half-eaten sandwich. “Part of me wants to stay here with you and Ellis and the others, but part of me also feels bad that I’m abandoning my job and my company, my mum and my brother.”
“You’ve got a brother?” He looks up hopefully. “Is he a kid?”
I shake my head. “You’d think so sometimes, given his poor impulse control and ridiculous sense of humour. But no, he’s a grown-up like me.” I add under my breath, “Apparently.”
Artie’s mouth screws up into a sulk. “You said you was gonna stay and help save the hotel.”
“And I am, but the hotel might not be saveable, no matter how much we wish differently.”
“You’re a dirty, rotten liar.” Artie scowls. “Go back to America, then. See if I care.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a single word, he disappears, not leaving so much as a crease in the quilt.
“Morgan,” I mutter, “you’ve got a helluva way with kids.”
Since I need the fuel, I finish my sandwich and the cake, but I barely taste either after Artie winks out of sight. My stomach churns. Even though he’s technically been around for the past eighty years, he’s still a perpetual child. Maybe I should have lied to him, told him the hotel would be safe. That he wouldn’t lose the only real home he remembers or his mismatched ghostly family.
But the stark truth is that I still don’t know if it can be saved, if I can make my permanent home here, or if things will work out with Ellis. I’m not omniscient and I don’t have a Magic 8 Ball. There’s no telling the future. All I know right now is that I want to try, both with Ellis and with the hotel, but I feel like my past and my future are pulling me in different directions.
Needing to wash the journey and remaining jetlag away, I strip down and get in the shower. Despite the ancient plumbing, there’s at least a decent water pressure.
I probably shouldn’t even be using one of the guest rooms. My family’s old apartments are still upstairs, empty, just the way they were when we left for the US after my dad’s death. I suppose I could stay in there, but the thought of it makes something inside me wither. Plus, my old nursery is not at all suitable for obvious reasons, and I sure as hell can’t sleep in my parents’ room. It would feel… weird.
Shaking my head in annoyance, I shut off the water and step out. I reach for a towel and dry off quickly, then wind it around my hips.
The brief thought of staying in Ellis’s room crosses my mind, but it’s beyond ridiculous. We’re only just starting out, it’s not like I can invite myself to move in with him. That would be a spectacularly bad idea.