“You mean ghosts?” Luke asked.
“They’re the same thing, aren’t they?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You said you wanted a brick.”
He looked at her like he didn’t understand how the two were related and then walked over to the porch. “I shouldn’t have pushed you just now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine—really,” she said.
“Here I am asking you to do what I haven’t even done myself. I want to share something with you, if you don’t mind. Can we sit?”
He sat down, and Addison joined him.
“When I was twelve years old, my grandfather died,” Luke said.
“Were you close?”
“Very. He used to pick me up on the weekends and take me to the renovation jobs he was working on.”
“Is that why you went into the business—because of him?”
He nodded. “No matter what went wrong, my grandfather never complained. He just looked at me and said it would all work out. It drove me crazy at first. I thought he never took anything seriously. Then I watched things happen around him—a client would complain about the way something was done, or how much time he was taking to complete the job. It didn’t faze him. He just went about his day, smiling and looking forward to the next day and the next one after that.”
“Sounds like a smart man.”
“He was—but he was so much more,” Luke said. “When I was with him, I always felt special, like I was his favorite, and maybe I was. Now I get the feeling my cousins felt the same way too. My grandpa could have had one hundred grandchildren; it didn’t matter. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person who mattered.”
The closest thing Addison had like that in her own life was her father, though the bond didn’t seem as tight as the one Luke had just mentioned. “It must have been hard when you lost him.”
“I wasn’t prepared when it happened,” he said. “I don’t think anyone is, no matter the circumstances. I knew he was getting old; I just always thought I’d have more time.”
Addison frowned. “I felt the same way about my mom.”
“On the day of the funeral, I remember standing with my parents in a long line, waiting to pay our last respects. The closer we got to the casket, the more I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. There were seven or eight people in front of us, but I could see my grandfather’s head from where I was standing. It had been propped up high enough on the pillow that I could see him lying there. His eyes were closed, and his hands were placed one over the other in the middle of his body. He looked like he was dreaming, not dead. I wanted to shake him and wake him up—make him come back to me.”
Addison winced. “Funerals were hard for me as a kid too.”
“When we got closer to his casket, my mother turned to me and said, ‘When it’s our turn you can give him a kiss goodbye if you want.’ I was a scared kid—I’d never even been around a dead person before. A kiss goodbye? I had this mental picture of me leaning in, my lips puckered, and when I was an inch or so from his cheek, his eyes would suddenly burst open, but instead of the soft blue I remembered, they’d be a whitish-grey color. And I’d realize the man staring back at me wasn’t my grandfather anymore. I stood there going over and over it in my mind until my mom looked at me and said, ‘Are you all right?’ I broke from the line and bolted for the door.”
“You left?” Addison asked.
“Before I got to the door my mother yelled my name. I turned and saw her step toward me, but my dad reached out and wound his fingers around her arm, reeling her back. He said, ‘Let him go.’ I thrust the church doors open and ran as fast as I could for as long as I could until I was so far away, I couldn’t see the church anymore. I never turned back, I just kept on running. I made it a few blocks before my legs felt like they’d been dipped in cement blocks, and I couldn’t run anymore. I collapsed on the grass in someone’s front yard. I didn’t know whose it was, and I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be alive anymore. Not without him.”
Addison rested a hand on Luke’s knee. “What an awful thing to go through.”
Although Luke smiled, she noticed a sting of sadness in his eyes. They both remained stationary, neither moving, until Luke cleared his throat, producing a sound like he was trying to get rid of the knot in it.
“That night my parents tried to think of something they could do to cheer me up,” he said. “I heard my mom tell my dad that she thought they should have a talk with me to help me ‘process my feelings.’ My dad said he had a much better idea.”
“What did they come up with?”
“Ice cream,” he said.
“Not bad.”
“My stomach was so sour, I knew I’d never be able to eat it, but they were worried about me so I went along with it anyway. It made my mom relax a little. She probably thought I was feeling better about the whole thing.”
“So what happened?” Addison asked.
“It was dark outside when we left the house. I was sitting in the middle of the back-seat of the car. My parents were in the front, laughing about silly things my grandpa had done or said. It was their attempt to loosen the mood. They probably thought it would help me in some way. It didn’t. I sat there, feeling guilty for running out of the church and never saying goodbye. I wondered if my grandfather was out there somewhere, looking down on me, disappointed in the way I’d acted. He’d meant so much to me in life, and I couldn’t even tell him that in the end.”
“I’m sure he knew. I don’t know where people end up after this life, but I’d like to believe they know how we feel.”
Luke buried his head in his hands.
“What is it?” Addison asked.
“When my parents stopped talking and it was completely quiet inside the car, I thought I heard something.”
“What was it?”
“A male voice.”
Addison tried her best to remain calm and unchanged by his revelation. “What did the voice say?”
“It was low, like a whisper. Someone said, ‘Luke.’ The sound was so close to my face, I could feel a warm breath against my skin. I was terrified—my entire body went stiff. I tried to turn my head. I couldn’t move.”
“What about your parents? What did they do when it happened?”
“They just sat there,” he said. “Obviously, they hadn’t heard anything. For a few minutes, it was quiet, and then I heard the voice again. This time I could tell it was the voice of a man. He said, ‘Luke, don’t worry. It will all work out.’”
Addison clamped a hand over her mouth.
“I knew as soon as I heard it that it was my grandfather. It had to be. But how? I wanted to turn my head and look over to see if he was sitting on the seat next to me, but I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.”
“So what did you do?”
“I covered my face with my hands and waited for it to get quiet again. Then, when it was, one by one I separated my fingers just wide enough to see about a foot in front of me.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Yeah, a head,” he said.
“A what?”
“My grandfather’s head, floating in front of me, like some kind of a hologram formed by tiny particles of air. I could see the dashboard of my father’s car right through it.”
“His body wasn’t attached?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” he said.
“Not as crazy as you think. Did you ever try to talk to him?”
“I just sat there, staring at his head. He smiled at me, the way he always did, and then laughed and said, ‘You’ll be okay. Great things are coming your way, Luke. You’ll see.’ He told me he’d always be with me, and that he understood why I couldn’t say goodbye earlier that day. Somehow I was able to nod at him, and once I did, he was gone.”
“All of that while your parents sat in the front seat?”
“I know—I witnessed it, and I can hardly believe it myself. Because I was so young, it would be easy to look back on it now and convince myself that I’d made it all up, but I know what I saw.”
“I believe you,” Addison blurted out.
He turned toward her, astonished. “You do—why?”
She bobbed her shoulders up and down. “Why not? Who am I to say that what you saw wasn’t real?”
Luke leaned back, his eyes never leaving her face. “There’s something about you. You’re so…different.”
“Compared to what?”
“Other women.”
“Trust me when I say—you don’t know the half of it.”
He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “I’d like to…get to know you, I mean.”
Was it possible? Had she finally found someone she could open up to?
“I’m curious,” she said. “Did you tell your parents what you saw that night?”
“I lay in bed all night thinking about it. I decided not to say anything, but the next morning, it was all I could think about it. My mom could tell something was weighing on me. She asked what it was, and I told her.”
“And she didn’t believe you, right?” she asked. “She probably thought you made the whole thing up.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Actually, she took my dad aside and told him what I’d said. Then they came into my room, and we all discussed it together.”
“Did they send you to counseling?”
He raised a brow. “Counseling? I don’t understand.”
“Wait—are you saying they believed you?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Because they were in the car when it happened and neither of them saw or heard anything.”
“My mother didn’t need to experience it to believe me. She’s always been a woman of great faith. She was overjoyed. She said my grandfather chose me because I was special and that she felt a lot better knowing he would be watching out for me. My father went to the store and bought me a journal. He said to write every detail of the experience down so I’d never forget it, but I didn’t need to write it down. I knew I would never forget.”
Addison looked away. “You’re lucky—most parents wouldn’t see it that way.” Her phone vibrated inside of her pants pocket. She took it out and read the text message: CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU TONIGHT, HONEY. DAD. “I’m sorry, I have to go. My father is flying in at six and we’re meeting in the city for dinner.”
“Will I get the chance to meet him?”
“I don’t think so—he has a meeting in the morning. He’s flying back out tonight.”
He stood. “Maybe some other time. Listen, thank you for listening to my story.”
“It means a lot that you felt comfortable enough to share it with me,” she said.
“I do…feel comfortable,” he said, “but there’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?”
“How is it that you believed me so easily? Most people wouldn’t.”
Luke’s loaded question was something she wasn’t prepared to answer, so she made an excuse about not having enough time to get ready before meeting with her father and said they’d talk again later. He gave her a look to indicate his disappointment and said he hoped they could revisit the subject again the next morning.
The more Addison thought about what had been happening since she arrived at Grayson Manor, the more curious she was about remembering the visions she’d had as a child. Had it been some kind of gift? It felt more like a curse. She didn’t want it, and she hadn’t asked for it. She didn’t even know where it came from or why. She wondered if there were others in the world like her. More than anything, she just wanted someone to make sense of it all—someone to tell her what she was meant to do, or if she was to do nothing? If that was the case, what was the point of receiving the visions at all? Did she have a role, a part to play? If so, what was it? And why hadn’t she experienced anything else for so many years? Why now?