TWENTY-SEVEN
I gasped when I saw Drake again in the dreamscapes.
I quickly fell asleep on the bed in my guest bedroom and no sooner did my body slip into unconsciousness before I was reunited with Drake’s in his magnificent abode from the 1900s.
“Ma minette,” he said with a coy smile. He was dressed in his police uniform and standing against the bar, his posture instantly manifesting his boyish charm. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his strong body. Relief washed over me and, for the first time since waking up from the broom closet, I felt like myself again. I sighed when he wrapped his arms around me and bear-hugged me back. I inhaled the intoxicating scent of his cologne, and became temporarily distracted by its potency. Then, remembering my pledge to be a better girlfriend to Ryan, I released him.
“What happened?” I asked him. “Where did we go wrong?”
“I do not know, mon chaton. We were separated. I tried to find my way back to you but I couldn’t manage to do it in time. I woke up here.”
“I’m so happy you’re okay,” I said, flopping down on one of his large armchairs.
I told Drake everything that happened during my return trip to the hospital.
“So that’s why Ada couldn’t communicate with Dorothy the first time?” he mused. “She was past the point of reason?”
“Can you believe that torment?” I asked, feeling so happy to finally discuss it with someone who knew all the intricacies of what happened.
“Non, the final moments of Dorothy’s life were tragic, to say the least. To die in that much terror, I can’t imagine a worse fate,” he said, swirling the whisky in his glass with a pensive expression.
I relaxed further into the chair. Drake looked worried.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, it’s just that when my spirit returned to the house, something tried to stop me.”
I sat straight up in the chair. “What do you mean?” I asked him with more than a little concern.
“Well, I don’t know exactly. I couldn’t actually see anything, just a glowing pair of white eyes. The figure was black, and he was grabbing onto you. I had to let go of you to fight him. That’s why I didn’t come back with you. By the time I escaped, you were already gone.”
I remembered the pressure on my hand that filled me with dread. Something, or someone, prevented Drake from coming back with me. Maybe they were trying to stop me from coming back too. I shuddered at the thought.
“Do you think it had anything to do with the disappearing souls and Guarda?” I asked with visible apprehension.
“I have no idea. That was my first thought too, but whatever tried to stop me from returning with you didn’t stick around long enough to fight. My spirit awoke in the house.”
I yawned. Even though I was technically asleep during our meetings, they weren’t exactly restful.
“Get some sleep now, mon chaton,” said Drake, “We can discuss this in more depth later.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but things were actually easier when you lived in my head.”
He nodded, “I agree, and it takes a lot of energy for me to contact you like this.”
For a moment, we both looked sad, each ruminating on what we’d lost. Neither one of us acknowledged it, however, not to each other anyway.
“Goodnight, Peyton,” said Drake. In a flash of black, he was gone.
***
I woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of whistling. Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled from bed.
Ryan was in the kitchen standing over a collection of pans. Smoke drifted up from the stovetop and the enticing smells caused a low growl to emerge from deep within my stomach. He was wearing a tight-fitting, gray t-shirt that allowed me the perfect view of his tapering back muscles. My heart fluttered inside my chest.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, flipping the bacon. I walked up behind him and gave him a hearty squeeze. He turned to face me and planted a kiss on my forehead. I smiled into his shirt, inhaling his clean smell. I had to admit my appreciation at not hearing the voice of a complaining Frenchman, cursing me for not shutting him out and making him bear witness to the moment. It was just Ryan and I now. Suddenly, the fire beneath the pan flared up and Ryan and I jumped back with a collective yelp. I rolled my eyes. Even if he weren’t in my head, the cranky Frenchman still occupied my house. Maybe it was worse to have him loose now. If he were still in my head, I could at least control what he saw. Ryan leaned down to give me another kiss, but this time, I just gave him a short peck and felt suddenly anxious.
“Am I right to guess we have an audience?” Ryan asked. I resented his chipper mood but I knew he was more than happy to have Drake out of my head, even if we had to be more careful regarding fire hazards!
“Grab some plates?” Ryan said, ignoring my sudden shift in mood and the fire flare-up.
I offered him my best smile as he resumed whistling and carefully turned off all the flames.
At the table, things began to feel more natural again. I was happy to be home.
“So, when are we moving that beast of a Wooton you have in there?” he asked.
“A Wooton replica,” I corrected him with a coy smile.
“Oh, sorry, Ms. Expert. You know, there’s another piece of furniture I was hoping to move this morning,” he said with a playful wink. Even though my stomach flipped nervously, I laughed along with him.
“Insatiable!” I yelled affectionately. He came around from his side of the table and kissed my neck.
“It’s good to have you back, Pey,” he said sincerely.
I looked up at him from my place in the chair. His dimpled smile delighted me. I must confess my weakness for that smile. I was just about to suggest going to his house when our moment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I wondered who it could be, thinking maybe it was Jill. I knew she’d be coming to ask about any news we had. I was waiting for Lovie to tell both Ada and Jill what we found; and to let them know that Dorothy and Alice were finally reunited.
Shrugging off Ryan’s curious expression, I pushed the chair away from the table. I made my way to the door and opened it, expecting to find Jehovah’s Witnesses. It was not Jehovah’s Witnesses, however, nor was it Jill. My jaw dropped and I had to grab the door to stop myself from fainting. Standing on my doorstep, in the flesh, in 2018, wearing a suit, and staring at me with those familiar chocolate brown eyes that I knew so well, was Drake Montague!
“Peyton Clark?” he asked, but I just continued to stare. The previous vision from before, when I woke up in New York came back to me. It felt like the most extreme case of déjà vu I’d ever experienced. Just like before, there was something off about Drake. I gaped at him, my brain reeling. There was no French accent, but I recognized the same low voice, and the same dark hair and chiseled jaw. His chest and arms were as broad and imposing as I recalled. I heard Ryan behind me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. I remained silent, just staring.
“Hello,” Ryan said politely, “can we help you?”
I looked on in shock as Ryan smiled amiably at the Drake doppelganger on my porch, seemingly unfazed. Then it dawned on me Ryan had no idea what Drake looked like.
“Yes, actually, I think you can. You could start by leaving my house.”
Ryan moved to step in front of me, because I was still staring at the man with my mouth open in disbelief. I couldn’t close it. It was impossible for the man to be Drake. Now that I looked closer, I realized he wasn’t. The eyes were the same but this man’s hair was much lighter, sandier. His nose was crooked in a few places and his mouth was fuller too. He did, however, possess the same strong chin and the unmistakable, soft brown irises.
“Excuse me?” asked Ryan, his voice less than polite.
The man opened up a briefcase he’d been holding and pulled out a manila envelope. “In accordance with Louisiana property laws, this house rightfully and legally belongs to me. It was purchased unlawfully and therefore, you have no claim to it. This house belongs to the Montague family. It was left to my grandfather. Since it sat empty for more than five years before exchanging hands, it rightfully belongs to the next of kin. No one claimed it, but I did some digging. After I found some papers in the attic, I looked into it some more. This house originally belonged to my great uncle, which makes me the rightful owner. Seeing as how you’ve been ignoring the calls from my lawyer and your realtor, I figured it was time that I paid you a personal visit.” If I weren’t still so shocked by his appearance, I might have heard more of what he said. But I just continued to stare in disbelief and confusion. Luckily, Ryan managed to keep his head.
“Hold on,” Ryan started, “Montague? As in Drake Montague?”
“Indeed. He was my uncle. My name is Luke,” he held out his hand to shake Ryan’s.
My breathing turned ragged. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All the events of the last week came crashing down around me and my arms started to shake. I couldn’t catch my breath.
Luke passed Ryan the manila envelope.
“Look, I think you should leave,” said Ryan, casting a wary glance at the envelope and then at me. He wrapped his arm around my heaving shoulders and helped me sit. Luke stayed standing in my doorway.
“I’ve been waiting for days to speak to Ms. Clark. This happens to be time-sensitive.”
Ryan’s brows furrowed menacingly. “Get the hell out of here before I call the police,” Ryan’s voice boomed.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” said Luke from the doorway. “Next time, I suggest you answer your phone.” Ryan angrily moved toward him but before he could close the space between Luke and him, a great, rattling wind tore through the house. It slammed the door in Luke’s face. My heart surged with appreciation for Drake. Gradually, my breathing returned to normal but I couldn’t deal with the shock of the unexpected meeting. I hadn’t even begun to process what he said about the title to the house. When I saw his eyes, they were Drake’s eyes, and that’s all that stuck with me. I thought I might be sick.
Ryan stared at the documents he pulled out from inside the packet and let out a low whistle.
“There’s no way this can be right! Your aunt lived here her whole life! He can’t just swoop in like that. I have a buddy that works down at the zoning commission: he’ll know all about inheritance laws. I’ll give him a call.”
I didn’t really process anything that Ryan said. He looked at me with more than a little concern. I wondered if he knew I was worried about much more than just the ownership of the house, and judging by the look in his eye, I suspected he did.
“He looked just like him, Ryan,” I said shakily, still recovering.
Ryan nodded and opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything, my phone rang from inside my pocket.
Startled by another interruption, I pulled the phone out. It was Jill. Casting an apologetic look at Ryan, I slid my finger across the screen to answer.
“Hello?” I asked, my breathing still irregular.
“Hi, Peyton, it’s Jill,” her voice sounded tired and scratchy. “I just wanted to call to tell you…” her voice trailed off and she took a deep, shaky breath, “Mom’s passed.”
My heart sank at hearing her words. Now I couldn’t tell Ada that we reunited her mother and grandmother. She died without ever solving the mystery. Ryan looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and I knew he was watching my expression carefully.
“I’m so sorry, Jill. I hoped to speak to both of you about what we found out. I actually contacted Dorothy yesterday.”
“You did?” Jill’s voice raised somewhat. “What time?”
“Oh, gosh, I don’t know. Late afternoon probably? Maybe a little after five o’clock?”
I heard a sniffle on the other end of the line.
“Are you okay?” I asked, wishing I could be with her in person to reassure her after her mother’s passing.
Jill sniffled again, when she spoke her voice was wet with tears, “Mom passed yesterday at exactly five-twelve p.m.”
***
Later that night, as I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed of Drake’s study.
“You’ve had quite a day, ma minette,” said Drake as his familiar image formed completely out of the smokiness.
I stayed quiet and pensive in the chair. I needed so badly to escape from everything. It was all becoming too much: the house, Jill and Ada, Drake and Ryan. My brain was on overdrive and my body was still recuperating from all the exhausting events of the week. I struggled to categorize everything, but I was too overwhelmed with new questions and utter confusion. It was all too much. On top of my own personal issues, the gnawing guilt that I let Jill down persisted. What if I hadn’t done enough?
I lowered my face into my hands and started to cry. Hot tears fell from my eyes and all of my recent worries came spilling out with them. They splashed onto the leather armchair. Drake sat down next to me.
“I’m sorry,” said Drake. “I know I’m partially to blame for how you feel.”
“You never told me Lucien had a son! Or that you left him the house in your will… You never told me anything!” I nearly shouted at him.
“I didn’t know! I promise you. I hated my brother. I wouldn’t have left him my toothbrush. In fact, I never even wrote a will.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now,” I said drearily. “None of it matters.”
“Of course it matters! Look at you, ma minette! I apologize that any descendant of mine dared to cause you any anguish.”
“Oh, Drake,” I sobbed pathetically, “I’m not crying because of the house.”
“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his expression softening.
I shook my head, “I’m crying because he looks exactly like you!”
It took everything I had to let go of Drake. Even so, I still refused to release my thoughts of him. The only reason I had to abandon him, one which I clung to for dear life, was that Ryan was real. He was alive. Drake was a ghost. But seeing him in the flesh again, even though he was only Drake’s nephew, really rattled me. The familiar chocolate irises stirred something deep inside me, something Ryan never touched, despite how lovely and amazing he was. I was feeling so vulnerable. I no longer knew which way was up. My mission into the past solved nothing. All I’d done was confuse my heart into potentially doing irreparable damage to the man I loved.
Drake let me cry and it wasn’t a pretty affair. My shirt was wet with tears and he was very careful to give me more space—the constant gentleman.
“I want to show you something,” he said. Unsure if I could handle anymore excitement, he offered me his hand. I placed my trembling fingers into his sturdy palm. His hand was warm.
The scene around us instantly changed. The room began to spin and swirl to black. Slowly, I saw a bright, well-lit corridor forming. The long, white hallway stretched on almost infinitely and led to a brighter light-filled doorway. Standing halfway between Drake and me and the door were three women. I squinted until I recognized the dark hair and fragile features of Dorothy and Ada. Standing between the two of them with her hands clasped tightly around their hands, was Alice. When they saw me, all three women turned to me with glowing smiles. They waved and kept walking down the hallway until they were absorbed by the light at the end of the corridor. A surging wave of love and warmth and relief flooded me. The anxiety and tension faded as I stared at the light, knowing the three women had finally found peace together at last.
When I awoke the next morning, I felt a little more like myself. Still adjusting to the silence in my head, I rolled over in bed and turned on my phone. In the Google search bar, I typed in the name “Luke Montague.” My breath caught when the images came up. Staring out from the colorful, twenty-first century screen were the very real, very much alive, chocolate brown eyes of the man who ignited all of my passion, the man I couldn’t join because he wasn’t here. But suddenly, hope grew in my chest. I hated myself for what I was thinking, but I couldn’t help the small glimmer of elation from entering my fantasies. I stared down at the screen into his warm, dark eyes, lost in thought, when suddenly, I jumped as the screen changed. Ryan’s name appeared at the top of the phone. My thumb hovered over the answer icon, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer it.
It seemed like I’d always been moving toward this singular moment. Even though I never envisioned all the layers of complexity, I knew it was coming ever since my first adventure into the past. There couldn’t be two men in my life, as much as I longed to never have to choose between them. It was easy enough to delay when I thought it meant choosing between the man I loved in my head and the man I loved in real life. But the events of the last week cast everything into sharper focus: thinking I lost Drake forever made me realize how important he was to me.
I knew I wanted Drake back inside my head. I wasn’t prepared to lose him yet; the simple truth was: Drake was part of me now. I also knew I had to be a better girlfriend to Ryan. But a heavy weight settled on my shoulders when I realized that being Ryan’s girlfriend might not matter after I told Ryan the truth.
And the truth was: I couldn’t let go of Drake.