Page 49 of The Most Unusual Haunting of Edgar Lovejoy

Edgar

“Congratulations!” Edgar swept Jamie into his arms.

Jamie had a week of strike ahead of them, but the haunted house was officially closed for the season, which meant Edgar would get far more time with them.

Jamie was elated to have finally confronted their parents and had been gratifyingly proud of Edgar for confronting a ghost. Add how well he and Poe were getting along, and Edgar was feeling dangerously close to being in the Halloween spirit.

“Thanks! I’m so glad to be done until next year.” They kissed him, lips a sweet promise for later. “So are you feeling up for the party?”

Edgar was still learning what it meant for him to be up for a party at all. He’d spent most of his adult life afraid to leave his house, anxious whenever he did, and desperate to get back to his safe haven so he could deal alone with whatever feelings he had incurred.

Spending more time with Jamie, who had a large circle of friends and several who were quite close, it became clear to Edgar that he had a lot of shit going on.

Antoine’s death at thirteen hadn’t just been traumatic for all the obvious reasons.

It had shown Edgar that when he cared about someone—when he loved someone—they disappeared from his life.

Cameron’s parents had sent her to boarding school the year after Antoine died, needing space for their own grief, so he’d lost her then as well. His father had left a year later. His mother several years after that. Then Poe.

Edgar had wrapped his strangeness around himself like a blanket and hidden away from the world, convinced that anyone he might care about would think he was too much of a freak to love him back. Certain that if they did, they would inevitably leave.

“There are so many people who like you and wanna hang out with you!” Jamie had told him more than once over the past few weeks, referring to Helen and Veronica, Carys and Greta, Leila and Amelia, and more. “And they would like you just as much if you told them the truth.”

More and more recently, Edgar had begun thinking about changing everything.

Sitting with Benjamin hadn’t magically cured him of fear. What it had done was show him that anything, everything , could change.

And how could he not take that seriously, since his whole life had changed since meeting Jamie? Now, there was one final piece missing in the puzzle that was Edgar’s life.

What if you didn’t have a secret anymore?

It was a question so bright and overwhelming that Edgar only dared to look at it sidelong.

Edgar agreed to go to Helen, Veronica, Carys, and Greta’s Halloween party, even though it was at the time by which he usually made sure to be inside his apartment.

“Yeah?” Jamie grinned and gave him a once-over. “Awesome. I want to show off my sexy boyfriend.”

Edgar flushed hotly and loved every second of it.

***

“You came!” Helen called excitedly across the room when they walked in. Edgar assumed they were talking to Jamie, but it was him they threw their arms around. “V, look, Edgar came!”

“I see that,” Veronica said, but she smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Glad you’re here.”

It was the first party Edgar had been to since high school. The crush of people, the bumping music, and the constant addition of new voices made Edgar’s head spin, so after a little while, he wandered onto the porch to get some air.

Greta was out there, and she was talking with two men Edgar didn’t recognize. He tried to duck back inside, but Greta saw him before he could escape.

“Oh, Edgar, I’m so glad you came! This is Truman,” she said, indicating the smaller of the two, who had soft brown curls and eyes that looked like they saw everything. He waved, expression friendly. “And this is Ash.”

The second man was uncommonly attractive, with messy blond hair and stubble. He nodded somberly in welcome.

“Guys, this is Edgar. He—”

“I see ghosts!” Edgar blurted.

While Jamie had been at the haunt the last week, Edgar had been thinking about telling them.

During Emma’s wedding rehearsal, Edgar had been thinking about telling them.

He’d been thinking so much about how he was going to tell his friends that it had popped right out of his mouth at this total stranger.

A wave of mortification broke over Edgar, but Ash just looked around and calmly asked, “Where?”

Edgar cleared his throat. “Just, uh. In general.”

“Really?” Truman asked, looking fascinated. “I have so many questions.”

“Wait, wait,” Greta said. “You can see ghosts and you’ve, like, never thought to mention that? Tell me everything . Also, can I tell Carys?”

“Um. Yes?”

Three faces looked at him with interest, eager to hear—what? A ghost story? A secret? Some insight told to him from beyond the grave?

Edgar swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“My mom says she sees a ghost. In her house. But she’s not living in the present sometimes.” That was Ash.

“She has Alzheimer’s,” Truman explained.

“She’s convinced though,” Ash said. “Kinda makes sense that you’d be able to see things out of time more clearly if you’re also living out of time.”

“My younger sister thinks life and death are happening simultaneously because all time is happening at once. It’s just that our puny brains are too simple to process it,” Greta chimed in. “Wait, we’ve gotta get Helen and Veronica out here.”

She stuck her head inside and yelled something that was inaudible to Edgar. Helen and Veronica came outside a moment later.

“What?” said Veronica.

Greta turned to Edgar expectantly.

In an attempt to be smoother this time, he said, “What are your thoughts on, um, ghosts?”

Helen’s eyes widened, and Veronica’s snapped to him.

“Totally believe in,” said Helen.

“My gran saw ghosts,” Veronica said. “She used to tell me her son—my uncle, who died when he was nineteen—came and told her secrets in her sleep and when she was hanging out the laundry.”

Truman chimed in, “I’ve never had an encounter with one that I know of, but that doesn’t mean they’re not real. I mean, I haven’t personally seen lots of shit that I know is real, so.”

Carys came outside then, looking for Greta.

“Dude,” Greta told her. “Edgar can see ghosts.”

Carys raised an eyebrow. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she said, nodding at Edgar. “Hey, can you come help me with the pumpkin bread?”

Reluctantly, Greta followed her inside but turned at the last moment to point at Edgar and say, “You are gonna tell me more about this later, right?”

He nodded, not able to speak.

The conversation naturally moved on, and Edgar tried to force his heart to beat in a normal rhythm and his muscles to unclench.

He tried to understand the words his friends were saying, but he couldn’t track them.

Someone asked if he wanted a drink. He didn’t.

The next thing he knew, he was alone, his head swimming.

The final fault line in Edgar’s heart had opened up, and now it was broken.

No one had cared. He had told them his deepest secret, and it had gone fine . Well , even. As well as it could have.

Edgar had been wrong. He’d been so wrong for so long. And it had cost him friends, lovers, support. It had cost him a life. Fuck .

He walked around the block, trying to clear his mind and figure out how things could’ve gone so differently than he’d pictured all these years.

Jamie found him a few blocks away, sitting on the bench in a park where once the ghost of a stooped woman carrying something unrecognizable had sat beside him, terrifying him when he’d looked over to say good morning and been faced with its dead eyes.

“Hey, baby,” they said softly, crouching in front of him.

“Hey,” he said weakly. “Sorry I abandoned you.”

“No worries. I was talking with Muriel—she’s such a delight—and Veronica said I might want to come find you. She said you looked a little… Well, anyway. Are you okay?” They rubbed warm palms up and down Edgar’s tense thighs.

“You were right,” he croaked. “Turns out. Have I…? Could I have…?”

Jamie stood and sat next to him on the bench, lifting Edgar’s hand to their lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. As always, his body relaxed automatically with their touch.

He tried again. “It didn’t have to be like this,” he whispered. “It could have been better. All this time.”

“Oh, baby.” Jamie folded him in their arms and held him tight, stroking his hair. There was nothing to say, really. It was a good, joyous thing. But like every new good and joyous thing in Edgar’s life lately, it highlighted the opposite choices he’d made before and all that they had cost him.

Edgar didn’t want fear to cost him anything more. Not ever again.

He swallowed hard and cupped Jamie’s face.

“Jamie, I love you. I love everything about you. You’re my best friend, and I think you’re amazing. That…that’s all.”

Jamie’s face did something complicated and precious. “I love you too,” they said right away. “I respect you so much. Your kindness and your generosity. The way you always expect the best of me. Also did I mention how brave and handsome and incredibly sexy you are?”

Edgar pulled them close.

“I love you,” they whispered and kissed his cheek. “I love you.” A kiss to his jaw. “I really fucking love you.”

“What a night,” Edgar said. Then he started to cry.