Page 45 of Manors & Mischief

She clears her throat, slyly pulling her hand away from mine before I can say anything. There’s been so many missed opportunities for me to say anything, but I keep wasting them. I can’t find the words, or I just look at her and get lost, worried that what I’ll say will scare her off or worse. Maybe even work out?

Now’s not the time to worry about it though because the group crosses the street and the two of us retreat to our positions for our next show. Halfway through, I notice Trav in the audience, and his knowing smirk almost messes me up. Instead, I put even more flare in the story because he’s heard the tale almost as much as I have. If I can spook him, I know I’ve done my job.

I move from speaking out at the crowd to watching Ember glide across the porch, walking through the “forest” and dropping a penny in the well. I wonder if she’s ever made a wish this whole time, and if she did, I bet I know what it would be. It would be about making the manor come alive again. About giving it the best it deserves, which she’s already doing.

The finale is coming up, and in the dark, Ember slips across the porch like a spirit, landing in the sitting room backdrop. Hidden in shadow, no one can see the makeup yet, but when I say the words “her ghost,” she presses the button and the spotlight comes on at the same time I raise my voice.

A few people jump, even Trav. I beam at him as I finish up and then Ember gets to her feet as we take a bow. In the crowd, Trav gives me a thumbs up, and I smirk as if to tell him I know how good we’re doing.

We take a few questions, and Ember promotes the upcoming activities at the manor before the group leaves for the next stop. Trav lingers behind, so I head down the stairs to say hi.

“Hey, come out to the pub afterward. We’re having some specials for anyone who can show their ticket to the Tour. You, too, Ember.”

“That might be nice,” she says. “Though it’ll take me forever to get out of this dress.”

“Come with it on,” Trav insists. “People will love it. It’ll be like a walking billboard for the manor.” He peers at me. “And I have to get a picture of you with that on.” He quickly turns and there’s a bright light that shines for an instant as he takes my picture.

“No fair, asshole.”

Trav laughs and starts to jog toward the group who’s now halfway down the block. “See you two later. First drink is on me for the spookiest stop on tour.”

“Did you hear that?” Ember asks. She’s leaning over the railing with a huge smile on her face. “Spookiest stop on the Tour.”

“Well, he hasn’t been to all of them yet.”

She makes a sound of dissent. “You have little faith in us.”

On the contrary, I have a lot of faith in us. I take the stairs two at a time and end up on the porch with her again. We have one more tour that’ll be by in about ten minutes. “So, are you up for an evening at the pub…with me?” I tack on because I want her to know this won’t just be an outing with friends. I have other ideas in mind for the two of us.

“With you? Like a…”

The words get caught in my throat. I want to verify that it’ll be like a date. Or like two people who go somewhere together when they want to get to know one another better, but my voice won’t say the words. I’ve never had this much trouble with a woman before. I’ve never had to work this hard.

“I’ll go,” she finally says. Relief spreads through me, and then she grabs the cell phone that’s hidden in the corner of the porch and starts to text. “Just asking Bea if she wants to meet us there. I’ll be hungry, too,” she says offhandedly. “I’ve worked up an appetite with my bad acting.”

I watch her fingers fly over the screen with a knot in my stomach. It’s not that I mind Bea going. I like her, always have, but this certainly isn’t the night I was envisioning.

I let out a breath, cursing myself. It might be the night Ember needs though. She should get out and meet more people from the town. Socialize and all that. “Sounds good,” I say.

I don’t know if she catches something in my voice, but she peers out the corner of her eye at me, her fingers still moving swiftly. I give her a genuine smile, and she goes back to what she’s doing.

There will be other times, I tell myself. Someday, I’ll find my balls again and make sure to ask her out like a real man without someone like my mom, Trav, or Bea trying to push us together.

What a novel idea.

17

EMBER

The corset is pushing into my ribs so hard I’ll be surprised if I don’t have marks at the very least. At the very worst, I’ll have become one with this evil contraption that only a masochist could’ve invented. But the beer is cold, and the company is delightful.

Devon and I are the talk of Harvest Falls. More and more townspeople have come up to us, telling us how much they enjoyed our skit. Devon introduces me to everyone, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep everyone’s name straight.

Tourists wait their turn, too, asking Devon questions about the house and the story. He refuses to tell them whether it’s real or made up, which I think only adds to the eeriness.

“You two seemed to have had a good night,” Bea says. Her tour is tomorrow, but she’s already insisted she can’t wait. The only bad part about being a stop on the Tour is that I don’t get to take it.

I take a sip of the pumpkin spice beer in my hand. I’m not usually one for craft beer, but it’s not bad. Not as good as the pumpkin soup I ate when we first got here. The beer pairs well with the chips and salsa that are in the middle of the table though.