Ghost Not Forgotten

XXIV: Now & Forever

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I was glad we had decided to keep my house. It would be nice to have a place to come back to when we visited instead of having to burden Della or stay at the motel. Luckily Bennet was set up pretty well in Georgia, so I didn't even have to bring any furniture with me. I could leave it all behind. The Podger Family Museum could stay untouched until we came back. Whenever that would be.

Sitting at my vanity table in my old room, I had just been packing up the last of my things when I heard the opening scrape of the window behind me, then the thud of his sneakers. I smiled at my reflection in the vanity mirror.

Next to my reflection, his silhouette was set against the glare of the afternoon sun. I could almost smell the long grass and sun-baked skin. I slowly looked over my shoulder, smiling at him.

Grinning, he came to my side, kneeling down and grabbing my hands at the same time. He put his nose an inch from mine, staring up at me with his shining blue-green eyes. His bruises were gone, as were mine, and the scrapes and cuts had healed a while ago. We no longer looked like we'd been through hell and back.

He gave me his cocky little smile before whispering, "You wanna get outta town, Natty Jean?"

It felt like fireworks were going off in my chest. Hot, explosive, exciting. They only kept going when I looked down at his smiling face.

"Hell yeah," I whispered back.

He rubbed his thumb over the two rings on my left hand, watching the little diamond of one turn and shoot light out in all directions. I played with the gold band on his hand just to see what the sunlight did to it. It glittered. I liked the look of it.

He rose a little, kissing me, then stood, pulling me to my feet. I threw the small bag with the last of my things onto my shoulder and let him lead me by the hand to the open window.

"Hope you can still climb down this thing," he said, looking out at the drainpipe.

Using the front door today was out of the question.

"Of course I can," I said, bristling.

He looked doubtful. "It's been a long time, Natty. And you're kinda old now."

I punched him hard in the shoulder. "Younger than you by three months, you ass! Nice try."

He chuckled, rubbing his shoulder. "All right, let's bet on it then."

I leaned back, not trusting that smile of his. "Bet on it?"

"Yeah," he said, dropping his hand from his shoulder to grab me around the waist and pull me to him. He moved us in a little side-to-side dance, pushing the tip of his nose against mine.

"If you stumble your way down that drainpipe or give up before you even get to it, you have to call me . . ." He raised his head, pursing his lips like an idiot, pretending he was deep in thought.

"Ah," he said, smiling wide as he looked back at me. "You have to call me 'my steamin' hot sex god' for the rest of our lives." He beamed like a proud little boy.

I raised an eyebrow. "That's weak, Malene."

"Sounds good to me, Malene," he said.

"All right, fine," I said, shrugging, then thought for my wager as I adjusted the bag on my shoulder.

When it struck me, I got my own sly smile.

"And if I dance my way down the thing – which I will . . ." I twirled out of his hold, handing him my bag. When he took it I put one leg out the window, sitting on the sill and looking back up at him. "Well then you gotta make a baby with me . . . today."

Now I beamed like a proud little girl.

He paused. Then his eyebrows slowly crept up his forehead. Della would've said he looked "intrigued."

I shrugged. "You said it, I'm gettin' old, you're gettin' old. We're runnin' out of time. We shouldn't waste anymore of it."

He twisted his mouth to the side, slowly nodding his head. Then he let out a sigh. "I don't think I've ever wanted to lose a bet so bad in my life."

"I thought you might say that."

He started shooing me out. "Well c'mon, Twinkle Toes, let's see you dance your way down already."

I grinned as I ducked out, stepping onto the roof. He was right behind me as we shimmied along on the creaking shingles, reaching the edge within seconds. He secured my bag on his arm and stepped carefully as he turned, swinging down and quickly making his way down the pipe. He landed with a small jump and stepped back, looking up so he could watch me.

"It's just like old times, Natty Jean," he said with a smile.

I grinned because he was right. And for the first time in a long time the "old times" made me feel light and hopeful, like I could think back on them without pain or anger. They made me believe something good and bright was coming my way, instead of like I was stuck and never going to move forward.

It had been a long time coming.

When I reached the bottom, we scampered – hand in hand – to his car, itching to make that last-minute stop at Burty Shellman's barn before getting out of town.

Hey, a bet's a bet, and he owed me.

The End

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought of this little story of mine.