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Oh, Auden. The sweetest child, with a mess like me for a mother. I guess it’s not so far-fetched that Ian ended up being so normal even though his father is less than.
“This is very sweet of you to give to me. Thank you, hun. But next time, you should just ask Mrs. Foster. Stealing is never okay. I am happy to have this, though.” I wrap her into my arms, hugging her tightly. “Now, let’s pack this bag for Papa so he can get better soon and come back home.” I place a chaste kiss against her forehead, taking care not to touch the goose-egg bump she’s still sporting.
I pull out a bag from the oak wardrobe, quickly grabbing a few shirts and pants before placing them on the canopy bed in the middle of the room. Auden starts opening drawers at random, looking quickly before closing them and moving on. I cross the room and grab a few of my father’s clothes from the dresser under the window. When I look out, I see Ian standing at the edge of the lake, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, looking more pensive than I think I’ve ever seen him. A far cry from the smiling boy in the photo.
“If Papa gets better, does that mean we have to leave?” Auden interrupts my thoughts, forcing me to leave Ian alone with his own ghosts once more.
I place the clothes I gathered from the dresser into the bag on the bed. “Come here, Auden.” We walk together to the white rocking chair in the corner of the room. I sit, pulling her onto my lap and wrapping my arms around her tightly.
My mother used to read me all sorts of stories in this chair. My father’s words earlier replay in my head. Does he really think my mother wasn’t the one responsible for trying to kill me? If he’s right...well, everything I feel about her will look differently. Including memories I have of her in this chair, telling stories every night and holding me close. Her White Diamonds perfume surrounding us in a warm hug.
I can almost smell it as I hold Auden.
I never thought I’d have the chance to make those same memories in this chair with my daughter.
“Do you want to go back to California?”
She rubs her fingers across my hands, contemplating my question. “I think I like it here better,” she admits.
I ruffle her hair playfully. “So, you’re telling me you’d be okay with leaving our apartment and your school just to live in this big haunted house?”
She giggles, snuggling into my chest. “It’s not haunted, Mama. The ghost here is a nice ghost.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“What do you mean there’s a nice ghost?” I ask her.
Auden pulls away from my chest, looking right in my eyes. “She’s a nice ghost. She comes to help me at night when the bad one tries to scare me.”
Deep breath in, Georgie girl.
My next words tremble out of my lips. “Auden, what does this nice ghost look like?”
Auden jumps off my lap, skipping across the room to one of the drawers she riffled through earlier. She pulls out something and brings it back to me, handing it to me with a smile. “This is the nice ghost.” She points down at the photo, my eyes following her finger with dread.
I have to hold back a scream when my mother’s face gazes back at me.
“This is the ghost that visits you? Does she look like she does in this photo?” I ask with bated breath. I don’t know if I can stay here if she’s seeing the version of my mother’s ghost that haunts me.
Auden shakes her head. “Yes, she’s very pretty, like you.” She beams at the photo before her face turns serious. “She told me I have to protect you from the bad one.”
“The bad one?”
“Yeah,” she says flippantly, twirling in place like the five-year-old that she is. Like we aren’t in the middle of a life-altering conversation. “The bad one that tried to kill you. Can I put Papa’s card right on top so when he opens the bag he sees it first?”
I nod, unable to speak.
“Yay! I’ll go get it, and then we can pack it all up for him. I bet Horton will try to sneak away in the bag, so make sure you don’t hear any meows when you leave. Okay?” Her eyebrow is cocked, hand on her hip, waiting for my response.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure there’s no meowing. I promise.”
Happy with my answer, she skips out of the room joyfully, like ghosts and haunted houses are nothing to stress about.
Leaving me alone with more questions than I know what to do with. And with more fear of thelivingpeople in Crane Manor than I have of the ghosts.
After tucking Auden in for the night and bidding Mrs. Foster farewell, Ian and I head back to the hospital. The drive is short, both of us quiet, stuck in the cyclone of silent thoughts and secrets between us.
At least that’s how I feel. Surrounded by a constant storm of lies and secrets I’m keeping from him.
