Page 6 of The Most Unusual Haunting of Edgar Lovejoy

Jamie

Jamie drummed on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the new Garden Gate single, and Amelia tossed boiled peanut shells out the window while they drove out of town in Jamie’s trusty truck. Well, trusty-ish.

“It’s clearly meant to be,” Amelia was saying through a mouthful of peanut. “Everyone knows when you run into someone again, that means it’s fate.”

“Is that how you ended up dating Cassandra for three months, or—?”

“Shuddup. But actually, kinda.”

Amelia’s lazy, appreciative grin meant she was fondly remembering the hurricane of a woman that that had left her heart—and her apartment—in a state of ruin the year before.

Jamie admired Amelia’s ability to extract the positive from even the worst situations.

It had been one of the things that drew Jamie to her.

And now, more than a decade after Amelia sauntered into Jamie’s second-period AP chemistry class and slid into the empty seat beside them, it was still something Jamie appreciated.

Jamie squinted into the sun as their phone indicated the turn.

“This should be it.”

Jamie and Amelia got out of the truck, and Amelia spat a peanut shell into the drain with admirable precision.

Before them loomed an old textile factory.

What was once a clanking ode to modern innovation was now still, abandoned to elements both human and natural.

Windows had been cracked by branches and bricks, doors wrenched open by vines and crowbars.

Jamie grabbed the flashlight they kept in the glove compartment for explorations such as these.

The friend of an acquaintance who’d given Amelia the tip about this place had mentioned a broken first floor window hidden by a copse of trees, and Amelia crowed with excitement when she found it.

Despite the oppressive heat, they both wore long pants and sleeves for protection against everything from broken glass to the flesh-eating parasites that it amused Amelia to pretend she’d contracted, so they made it through the window without incident.

The smell of mildew, decaying wood, and the strangely sweet scent of rot hit Jamie immediately.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Jamie muttered, but they were vibrating with excitement. They loved exploring. Jamie and Amelia’s friendship had solidified in abandoned places like this, after all.

This was no lark though. This time, they weren’t just exploring, as they’d done so many times; they were scouting locations for a scene in Amelia’s film. The space needed to look dilapidated, be big enough for fifteen actors, and be free—hence the abandoned part.

Once inside, they moved slowly and quietly, making sure they didn’t disturb anyone. Just because buildings had been abandoned by the people who once owned them didn’t mean they weren’t inhabited. And Jamie never wanted to intrude on someone’s home.

Jamie shone the flashlight around the room. A rat ran from the light, skittering along the wall to disappear into another dark corner. “Jesus, ick.”

A massive tangle of machine parts was covered in tarps that had fallen to tatters, draping the machines like skin stretched over a metal skeleton. It was eerily beautiful, and Jamie snapped a picture with their phone.

“Are you gonna see him again?” Amelia prompted.

Finding out that Edgar had left the Never Lounge because he hadn’t felt well and not because he’d been avoiding Jamie had made Jamie’s hope that there might be something between them bloom again.

He was as awkward as he was handsome, but Jamie had approached him at the bar because he’d seemed interesting.

Out of place. There had been something about him that struck Jamie as deep loneliness, even though he had been at the club with friends.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go to the cat café where he works.”

“Oh, shit, that’s so cute,” Amelia said.

Jamie wholeheartedly agreed. “He just seems…”

Jamie found they couldn’t finish the sentence, but Amelia had been Jamie’s best friend long enough that she raised her eyebrows and finished it for them.

“In need of saving?”

“What? No!” Jamie said immediately.

No more savior shit! they’d promised themself after they finally broke up with Jason.

“Mm-hmm,” Amelia said doubtfully.

Jamie searched for how to explain the combination of uncertainty, intrigue, and surprise that had animated Edgar.

“He seems like a time traveler who’s ended up here and doesn’t want people to know that he’s from another time.”

Amelia paused her scouting in corners, intrigued. “Hmm. Time traveler from the future or the past?”

Jamie laughed. “The past. He looks around like everything about the world shocks him.”

“I kinda like a time traveler for you, actually,” Amelia said. “Such chance for interesting conversation. You can explain our modern customs to him.”

“You know who I’d like to explain modernity to? Emma, who asked me to be her maid of fucking honor.”

Jamie’s words hung in the air. They hadn’t texted Amelia about this before because they were embarrassed they hadn’t stuck up for themself more at brunch.

“What the fuck?” Amelia said, sounding gratifyingly disgusted. “What are you gonna do?”

“Hire a lot of queer strippers for the bachelorette party, that’s for sure.”

Amelia giggled appreciatively. “God, she’d be so mortified.”

Jamie relished the image of their sister’s horrified face.

“You wanna be my date and keep me sane by making fun of everything with me?”

“Of course. Unless…” Amelia waggled her eyebrows. “You and the time traveler.” She bumped her fists together.

Jamie flipped her off, but they couldn’t deny the frisson of excitement that shot up their spine at the unlikely possibility.

They shone the flashlight up wooden stairs that they wouldn’t trust with their weight, and Amelia shook her head, moving back into the main room. “This isn’t the place. Let’s go.”

***

Just because someone is hot and looks cute around cats does not indicate something fundamental about their personality. So don’t you dare base a whole-ass crush on the juxtaposition of muscles and kittens , Jamie lectured themself as they approached Take Meowt Catfé three days later.

But the first thing they saw inside was Edgar with a cat perched on each of his broad shoulders.

“Oh, this is really bad,” they muttered.

“Welcome to—” Edgar began. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, wow, hey. You came.”

Edgar’s cheeks flushed, and he turned his chin so the black cat on his right shoulder could rub its cheek against his. The small orange cat on his left shoulder, possibly aggrieved at the momentary lack of attention, took that opportunity to try and climb onto his head.

It was one of the more adorable things Jamie had ever seen. And really who was to say that being hot and looking cute around cats couldn’t mean something ?

Just no spontaneous crushes.

“Need a hand?” Jamie offered. It looked like the orange one trying to climb his head was digging its claws into his scalp.

“No, they’re good. They won’t fall off.”

A pang in Jamie’s gut said that their self-directive had been ineffectual.

“Come on in, and you can meet everybody,” Edgar said.

I am only human, Jamie thought and let themself off the hook.

The space was bright and open, and a few people sipped drinks and chatted as the cats went about their business around them.

One whole wall was built of a pyramid of boxes for climbing, and several huge cat trees held snoozing cats with tails ticktocking lazily over the sides of their perches.

A large cat with magnificent gray fur stood on the counter as though it worked there.

“This is Henrietta Rampart.” Edgar indicated the orange cat on his head. “And this is Basket,” he said of the black cat, making a face as he said it. “I did not name her. Ridiculous name.”

“Oh?” Jamie asked.

Edgar dropped his chin, which resulted in him being nuzzled by both cats. “It seems undignified.”

“Dignity’s in the eye of the beholder,” Jamie said and raised their knuckles to Basket. “Hey, buddy.”

Basket purred and rubbed her jaw against their knuckles.

“Just be prepared, becau—”

Henrietta took their proximity as an invitation and launched herself from Edgar’s shoulder to Jamie’s. She weighed practically nothing, but her claws dug into their skin.

Jamie held still as Henrietta made biscuits on their cheek.

Edgar and Jamie stood, cats on their shoulders, facing each other.

“Well this is extremely weird,” Jamie said.

“Yeah.”

Jamie took in Edgar’s appearance beyond his adorable kitten epaulette.

Edgar wore khaki pants, a blue-and-white-striped T-shirt, and black sneakers.

His dark brown hair was thick and cut short.

There was nothing about his person that gave insight into his personality, interests, or style.

But his brown eyes were intense, and his handsome face seemed permanently poised on the edge of wariness.

“You can meet the other cats?” Edgar suggested.

“Please. Should I leave her here?”

Henrietta purred and nuzzled their ear.

“It’s cute you think you have any control over her.”

Cute!

Edgar was a gentle giant. He handled the cats with utter care and dignity.

“Milkshake and Taco are getting adopted this week,” Edgar said, scritching under the chins of two tortoiseshell kittens.

“That’s great,” Jamie said, but Edgar sounded conflicted.

“Yeah. I’ll just miss them.”

“Must be heartbreaking to work with cats if you miss them all when they leave?”

Edgar bit his lip. “A little.”

Jamie’s heart was spared melting because at that moment, a bullet of white fur shot across the room and began to run in circles around Jamie. They tried to turn and watch it but quickly got dizzy.

“Um. Should I…be alarmed?”

“No. He’ll calm down in a minute. This is Robert McBride.”

Let me guess, you named him.

“How do you pick their names?” Jamie asked.

Edgar frowned, regarding the cat. “He just seemed like a Robert McBride.”

“Okay, if you could rename the cats whose names you don’t like, what do they seem like to you?”

Edgar sat down on the floor next to Jamie, careful not to jostle Basket. Robert McBride lost interest in zooming around and flopped in the middle of the floor like a rag doll.

“Well, I thought she seemed like an Addie.” He patted Basket’s head. “I would’ve named Milkshake and Taco…Sabrina and Freya. That guy in the corner? Snowball? I would’ve named him Leo Virginia.”

Jamie grinned. “Sounds like a porn name.”

Edgar gave a quirk of the lips that might someday grow up to be a smile. “Shit, you’re right.”

The other group in the café left, and Edgar rose to see them out.

“Thanks for coming in,” he told them. “We get new cats all the time, if y’all want to stop back.”

They promised they would.

He tries hard to get the cats placed in good homes even though he misses them when they leave.

“Can I get you anything?” Edgar offered Jamie. “A coffee or something?”

Jamie stood, careful not to step on any cats. “How about a date?”

Edgar frowned. “I don’t think we have any. Though maybe with the smoothie stuff—”

Jamie huffed out a laugh. “Edgar. Do you want to go out on a date? With me?”

Jamie had the pleasure of seeing something like wonder cross Edgar’s face. They were already planning how they’d relate their total smoothness to Amelia when they told her this story later. Then Edgar’s brow furrowed, and he dropped his chin.

Well, fuck. Not smooth. Not slick. Just rejected. You sure read this one wrong.

Jamie said quickly, “No worries. You’re not interested. It’s cool. Um, want to show me more cats?”

Jamie moved toward the back of the café, away from Edgar. Rejection stung, but it was better to know sooner rather than later. And at least they could drown their sorrows in cute cats before making a dignified exit, never to see Edgar again.

“No, wait.” Edgar followed them. “I’m not…not interested. You just surprised me.”

Jamie’s heart flip-flopped. “Oh. No worries if you don’t want—”

“I do.” He sounded sure of himself now. As certain as he’d been that Basket was not a suitable name for a cat.

“Well, okay, great,” Jamie heard themself say. “How about dinner?”

After a slight pause, Edgar nodded.

“Saturday night?”

Another pause and a flicker of worry in his face before he said, “Okay.”

Jamie hesitated. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, definitely,” Edgar said quickly, but a line appeared between his eyebrows that didn’t go away. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Jamie tried to take people at their word, so they said, “Okay, great. Me too.”

They exchanged phone numbers, and Jamie found themself looking for excuses not to leave. They pet every cat on their way to the door, but too soon they were in front of it with no excuses left.

“Hey, Jamie,” Edgar said. It was the first time he’d said their name, and it sent shivers through them. “I’m really glad you came by. Thanks for asking me out.”

And this time, there was no hesitation, no flicker of unease. Edgar was smiling—softly, subtly, but smiling nonetheless.

Jamie beamed. Feeling brave and reckless and full up with joy, they blew him a kiss on their way out the door.