Ginny's face fell slightly. "Why can't I see him?"
"I don't know. I don't even know why I can see him."
"Does Patrick have something he needs to tell me? Is that why you a"
Sara shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I... well... this is awkward."
"What is?"
It occurred to Patrick that Sara was trying to avoid telling her about their relationship. "Hey, it's not going to be a big deal for her, Sara. Neither one of us wanted to stay together, and we stayed friends after. Seriously, she'll go with the flow here, I think."
"Um, Patrick and I are... together."
"In the house. I know... you said so."
"No, I mean, we're..."
"Dating," Patrick said, a silly grin on his face. It was entirely inappropriate for the gravity of the moment and the potential for looming disaster , but the weirdness of the situation was making him react oddly. It seemed to make everyone respond in strange ways.
"Dating," Sara echoed. "He's my boyfriend."
"Oh." Ginny's hands came to rest in her lap, and she and Sara watched each other.
Patrick likened it to a showdown, each waiting to see how the other would react, and he had to admit he was curious too. The whistle of a Western stand-off shrieked in his head. Ginny definitely wouldn't give a crap that he'd met someone else. She'd encouraged him to go out with her cousin that one time, and it had been forty years since then. She'd gotten married herself. But Sara didn't know her the way Patrick did, so he could only imagine what Sara was thinking.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," Sara muttered.
"Just give her a minute. Oh, wait. Hang on." Patrick rushed out to the living room and grabbed the sea glass from the bowl, returning to the kitchen. He moved closer, sidling up behind Ginny's chair and placing his hand gently at her shoulder , the glass clutched in his other fist .
She shivered, her head turning toward where Patrick's hand lay. "He's... that's him, right?"
He reached around and placed the glass on the table, and her sharp intake of breath reverberated through the otherwise silent room. "Oh... God."
Sara smiled. "It's pretty weird, huh?"
Ginny huffed out a low, "Wow. Hey, Patrick."
"Hey, Ginny." Patrick grinned at Sara over Ginny's head, and her answering smile was small but hopeful.
"The real reason I'm telling you this," Sara said, "is because my sister and neighbor think I'm making all this up. Jules amy sister awants me to check myself into a mental institution."
"Well, what can I do about that?" Ginny couldn't take her eyes off the glass, and she poked at it with her finger.
"I don't know that you can do anything, but it may help to have someone who believes me. Maybe it'll make a difference."
"Or maybe she'll just think I need professional help too. And really, why don't you just float the glass in front of her, Patrick? That's a seeing is believing type of thing a pretty convincing."
"Yeah, why don't I?" Patrick asked.
Sara twisted her lips into a grimace. "I don't know Megan well enough to understand what she'd think about that, but I can almost guarantee Jules would just think we'd hypnotized her or something. She doesn't need proof to believe what she wants."
"She sounds..." Ginny trailed off, her face confused.
"I don't know if having you here will help. And, believe me, I can understand if you don't want to get involved with this, but will you stay? My sister is supposed to be coming back... probably to discuss my broken brain." The corner of Sara's mouth twitched. "I just want someone on my side."
"Hey, I'm on your side," Patrick protested.
"Someone they can see and hear," Sara said, her voice teasing.
The front door opening and slamming ricocheted into the room, and Sara jumped out of her chair. "Guess it's time to do this."
Patrick released Ginny, and she slowly stood. "I can't believe this is happening," she said. Sara grasped Patrick's hand and squeezed. "Not this aI mean, this business with your sister. That's ... well. I just... Patrick! This is huge."
"Yeah, it's something else. He's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me."
"Love you," Patrick whispered into Sara's ear. Her smile was blinding in its happiness. Her fingers threaded through his.
"... this works," Jules said, stopping short in the doorway. Her eyes rested on Ginny. "Who's this?"
Megan stuck her head into the kitchen from behind her and smiled. "Oh, you have company."
"Ginny Burns, this is my sister, Julie Mullins. Do you know Megan Lonergan? She lives next door."
Ginny extended her hand to Megan. "No, I don't believe I do. Nice to meet you," she offered her hand next to Jules, who shook it and released quickly as through Ginny had a disease , "and you."
"Right. From the writers' group." Jules looked from Ginny to Sara, scowling.
Patrick half stepped in front of Sara, wishing he could pull Ginny behind him too . H didn't like the way Jules was looking at either of them. It was suspicious and vaguely malicious.
"We, uh, need to speak to you privately, Sara."
"Whatever you have to say, just say it. Ginny can stay."
"This really is a matter better discussed without an audience," Megan reasoned, flashing Sara a small, sincere smile.
Sara nodded at Ginny confidently. "She stays."
"Oh, quit being so stubborn." Jules' fists clenched, her face turning pink, and Patrick returned to Sara's side, gripping her shoulder .
"Give it a rest," Sara said. "I already know you think I'm crazy and want me to move back to Portland to check myself into the nut house. It's not going to happen, so you might as well save your breath."
"We just want what's best for you," Megan said, her voice soothing. "And getting round-the-clock care might be your best option at this point if you're thinking about hurting yourself . You don't have to go back to Oregon. There are several facilities right here in the area."
"What's best for me is to stay here. I'm not going anywhere. I need you to butt out."
Patrick smiled, proud of her for sticking up for herself. Despite all that Sara'd been through, she was so much stronger than anyone thought. She was smart and funny, talented and full of love. He hated that her sister had turned on her; family was a big deal, and while he could understand it on some level aJules' concern ahe just wanted her to leave them alone.
"I'm afraid we can't... butt out. I really like you, Sara, and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. I have my little girl to think about, though a if you really went through with something, you could not only hurt yourself, you could hurt my family."
"Then get out of my house."
"Sara!" The toe of Jules' shoe tapped loudly on the linoleum, and Patrick followed its movement, mesmerized.
Ginny sat, waiting. Knowing Ginny, she was probably just biding her time until it seemed like the right time to speak.
"I'm serious. There's nothing wrong with me , and I'm not about to kill myself. It wasn't like that."
"And what was it like?" Jules asked, volume rising.
"I have no intention of hurting myself." Sara turned her eyes toward the ceiling, leaning forward into Patrick's shoulder. "I just want you both to go and leave me alone. Everything is fine here. I'm not depressed or delusional. I'll call the police if I have to, you know."
"I'll get Mom and Dad out here, and they'll a " The tendons in Jules' neck bulged as she screamed.
Megan grasped Jules' arm, warning her with cautioned look. "That's not helpful."
Jules took a deep breath. "Sara, I can't force you to get help, but I can make things very difficult for you if you don't."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Patrick asked, advancing on the woman until he was nose to nose with her. "Are you threatening her?" He hated that he was so helpless in all of this. He wished he could force them to go.
"Mom and Dad can talk at me until they're blue in the face," Sara said, her voice flat. "I'll change my phone number, and you'll never hear from me again. This is your last warning aget out of my house, or I'll call 911. Ginny is here as my witness. You won't go, and you're threatening me."
Ginny nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid that is what it looks like."
"You may be a danger to yourself," Megan said. "You have a history of mental illness. Roger has a lot of pull at the local hospital. It won't take a lot of effort to have you committed involuntarily... at least for a few days. I don't want to do this and ruin our friendship, but... well, it would really make your sister feel better."
"What? No!" Patrick tried to shake the woman, but his hands went right through her. She shivered and stood straighter, face determined.
"Right. I think what would make Jules feel better is dousing me and this house in Holy Water." Sara snorted out a bitter laugh and said, "I think you're forgetting I've been in a mental institution, and I'm not an idiot. Do you know how hard it would be to get me locked up unless I did something crazy?" Sara glared at Jules , reaching into her pocket for her phone and flipping it open.
"You don't think believing a ghost is your boyfriend is crazy?" Jules laughed, her face ugly in its derisiveness . "Here's the bottom line - if you don't sign yourself in voluntarily, I'll get Mom and Dad to petition the court for power of attorney if we do manage to get you committed , and we'll sell this house."
Patrick froze, and a tense silence hung in the air. Sell the house? Could they do that? He turned to look at Sara, fear coursing through him. She looked freaked out. "You can't."
"We can, and we will." Jules jutted her chin out.
"Now, now," Megan said, patting Jules' shoulder.
"She's not crazy," Ginny spoke up. "There's no need for this."
"If she's not crazy, she'll spend a few months getting help, come back here, and pick up right where she left off, won't she?" Megan tentative ly step ped forward toward Sara, and Patrick stood in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't know how she couldn't feel the weight of his glare .
He'd been taught to respect women and never hit them, but he was sorely tempted in that moment. Not that he could, but he wanted to. How dare they hold this over Sara's head? This was ridiculous.
"Megan, get out of my house."
"We'll have to call for an ambulance. You're clearly agitated, and you don't know what you're saying," Jules said.
Megan took another step forward but stopped cold when she hit the space where Patrick stood. She reached into his chest while he winced at the feeling, but it was short-lived ashe retracted her hand immediately.
Sara's lips tightened into a straight line while glaring between Jules and Megan. "I have a witness who can testify the two of you schemed to get me locked up against my will and threatened me."
"And I have a witness who heard you threaten to kill yourself," Jules said. "We may only be able to get you locked up for a day or two, but if we can get a judge to listen to Mom and Dad, this house is gone. I'll make sure some nice family buys it, someone who will stay here for a long time, and you'll never get it back."
"You bitch!" Patrick yelled, making Sara jump. He felt her slump against him, and he turned to see a single tear slip down her cheek. He grasped her by the elbows. "We'll fight this," he said in a desperate tone.
"No, it's over. If I go, it's just a few months, and then I can come back. If I don't, I could lose..." Sara wiped her cheek with her thumb, and Ginny slipped an arm around her waist, the three of them huddled together.
"I'll make sure nothing happens," Ginny whispered so low Patrick barely heard her. "I'll look in on the house. Don't lose him."
"Will you visit me?"
"Of course," Ginny said, rubbing Sara's back. Her eyes were glassy.
"I wish I could," Patrick answered at the same time. "I'll see you every night in my dreams."
Sara clenched her eyes shut, and her face crumbled for a moment. She turned toward Ginny, but kept her body pressed against Patrick's. "There's a notebook I found in the attic, along with a couple of pencils. They're in the bottom desk drawer in my office. Sharpen the pencils, and leave them on the desk with the notebook, okay?"
Ginny looked puzzled, but she immediately nodded. "Okay."
Patrick smiled, recognizing her plan immediately. He pressed a long kiss into Sara's hair. "Very smart, angel. It'll be almost like I'm with you... I'll write to you every day."
"Me too," she murmured. "I'll be back as soon as I can." A small sob caught in her throat.
"I loa"
"No," she cut him off while Ginny patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Save it for when I come back."
He didn't say a word; he simply laid his cheek against her hair and focused on the burning prickles of tension and emotion high on his cheekbones. If God existed, He'd show up right now and do something to keep this from happening. Like every other prayer Patrick had ever said, he didn't expect this one to be answered, but how he wished it would.
It was coming... the moment she'd leave. They stood together, not saying a word. He memorized the warmth of her skin, aware of each minute movement of her body. He pulled away, ducking his head to look into her face. Her eyes were closed, although he could see them moving frantically back and forth behind her eyelids. He memorized each detail of her face athe chicken pock mark below her lower lip, the way her nose seemed to turn up just a little at the end, the way the tips of her lashes seemed lighter than the rest. He kissed her mouth, but she didn't respond . She was facing her sister and the neighbor, and he knew she didn't want to give them any more ammunition than they all ready had.
Sara snapped her head up, her glare ice cold as she locked eyes with Jules. "Fine. Let's go. Right now."
"Just like that?" Jules asked.
"Just like that," she agreed. "I'm going to go, get this over with, and then you and I are finished."
"You'll thank your sister," Megan said. "This really is a "
Sara's laugh was bitter. "I very much doubt that."
Sara's absence was a hole through his chest. Every day he woke up and roamed the house, looking for some sign that she was back. He bled on the inside, his heart split open wide. He really felt the weight of what he was now: just a ghost, haunting his old house.
He silently stood at the front window for hours, watching the leaves a dry and desiccated afall from the trees and blow across the yard. The flowers outside withered, needing to be cut back, but no one tended to them. The yard was a wreck. If it wasn't for Sara's things in the house, Patrick could have imagined he'd dreamt everything about being with her a everything seemed so familiar, so much as the same as it had been after his parents left.
He carried the sea glass around with him from room to room, rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface. The connection it gave him to Sara seemed tangible, and if he concentrated hard enough, he swore he could feel some of the warmth leftover from her own hand. It was stupid, but he missed her. He did what he could to feel close to her.
Ginny came the first time the day after Sara left. Unfortunately, she'd never been able to find the pencils. She'd left a bunch of sharpened ones and a few pens on the desk, but Patrick's hands had passed right through them when he tried to pick them up. He'd tried to write Sara a letter anyway, pressing his fingernail into a blank sheet of paper from his notebook, but by the time Ginny had shown up again, the indents had faded. She ended up back at the house five days later.