Page 29 of The House on Haven Way

“Hey, there’s my strong girl.” I smile and help her stand up. She’s moving a little better this time. I wonder if my “massage therapy” helps her.

“Johnny. Hi. I don’t have to—whoop!”

Amber’s voice is strained and tired, but it changes to a bright bubble of laughter when I sweep her up and carry her in. “I thought you might like to give those legs a rest—even though I’ll be massaging them soon.” I hesitate. That was what she wanted, right?

This is okay, isn’t it? Nancy married someone else—my friend—and murderer. It’s been decades.

Amber’s alone. Probably a little lonely.

“If you want that. Or we can just eat meatloaf and watch that show you were telling me about.”

“Mm. I’m in the mood for a massage. Johnny. I stopped for gas at Manny’s.”

“It’s nice it’s still called that. Is it his son’s place now?” I ask, floating her into the house and down to her room. I’ve got a few candles out this evening. Curtains drawn. I don’t know if it’s romantic or just peaceful, but either way, I hope she likes it.

“It’s him. Manny, your old boss.”

I damn near drop her. As it is, I set her down too hard, and she bounces on the bed, letting out a startled cry. “He’s gotta be over a hundred.”

“Um. Yes, I’d say he is. But he’s not a human. He’s... Well, you know the movie, Frankenstein?”

“Boris Karloff. Geez, kid, that was an old movie when I came out. My old man said he took my ma to see it so she’d hug up to him in the theater during the scary parts,” I laugh.

“Manny Finklestein is Frankenstein’s body double. But in blue overalls and way sweeter. He’s going to come see you. Because he’s... Well, he’s kind of in the same boat. A member of the paranormal community. Seems like there are a lot of supernatural citizens in Pine Ridge,” Amber says with a tight smile.

I don’t know why she thinks I’ll be upset, but I’m quick to reassure her that I’m not. “Baby, that’s amazing!” I slap my hands together. “Old Manny! Oh, wow, I haven’t seen him—” I stop, face tight.

Amber’s face softens. “He’s the one who found you. You didn’t show up the next day. And um... I don’t want to ruin our night—”

“Our night?” I seize on the clue, even though this other stuff is far more important.

“I thought it might be special,” she whispers.

My eyes fix on her lips as she speaks. They’re gorgeous. Delectable lips. Lips that are, like every other piece of her, heart-shaped. I’m fixated on hearts and this woman. And I feel things in my heart I never felt when I was alive.

Could be that I’m just lonely.

Or could be that I finally understand what Harry Rogers was hinting at.

There are some people that you want, that you’ve got your eye on, and nothing else will do. The more that I’m with Amber, the more I want to stay near her—and the more I realize that I never craved Nancy this way.

You were alive. Stupid and spoiled, didn’t know what you had.

Amber is like... Something rare for you, that’s all. Don’t make it more than it is, Miller.

Amber’s lips are moving again. “Manny is coming to visit you—and soon you can go visit him. He told me there are things called Spirit Bottles. You can travel if someone carries you in one. I don’t know all the details, but I’ll find out. And I’ll find the coroner’s report, too.”

I nod. “We don’t have to talk about all of this now, do we?” I don’t understand why I’m hesitating. I’ve been waiting for answers for years.

So why do I just want to rub my hand along Amber’s beautiful, upturned face? Caress her cheek and hold her smile steady? “What’s the matter? You nervous?”

“About tonight? No. About telling you this part? Yes.”

“What part?” I whisper.

Amber takes my hand and pulls me onto the bed next to her. Our arms brush. Legs fuse. The tingles start, heavier, harder, almost pulsations. It makes it hard to talk. To think.

“Harry Rogers was the medic who came when Manny found you. He wept over you like a brother. Nancy hadn’t been told, hadn’t shown up.”