Arriving at the beach, we find a spot down on the sand. Seth sits and gestures for me to sit between his legs. Once I’m seated, his arms wrap around me and I melt back into his chest.
“It feels so good holding you,” he whispers.
A peacefulness spreads throughout me. “It’s rather comfortable.”
His arms tighten around me. I notice the cast on his arm, but it doesn’t bother me. “My family and I loved playing night-time cricket when I was little. We had this glow-in-the-dark cricket set. It was fun. Olive took a dive for a ball one night and ended up with some pretty awesome gravel rash on her face and arm, but she got me out.” He laughs.
“Sounds fun. We’ll have to do it one night with Janie and Chance.”
We sit quietly, looking out at the ocean. The moon lights up the water, so I can see each ripple and crash of the waves. “Seth?”
“Mmm . . . ?”
“Can you tell me about Olive?” I want to know what she was like.
“Olive . . .” He sighs slowly; his low chuckle can’t be missed either. “She was a crazy girl. Very outspoken, and gave Mum and Dad hell.”
Yeah, that came across in my dreams of her. She had confidence. If his family were still here and she’d turned eighteen, they would have been in for a world of hurt with her.
“I think we would have got along great.” I laugh.
“I think you would have as well. Mum would have loved you, too.”
“I’m a loveable person.” I shrug.
“Yes, yes you are.” We both laugh. Is he trying to tell me he loves me? He is an easy guy to fall in love with. Despite what Olive and I said, I’m not ready for that at the moment.
“So, Olive was a bit full-on.”
“You have no idea.”
“I might have a little one,” I reply without even thinking.
His arms around me loosen. “What do you mean? You never met her.” Curiosity is in his tone.
“Oh . . . umm. Don’t worry about it.” My mind goes blank and I have no idea of how to respond. I’m going to sound like a crazy person if I tell him about me talking to her.
“Tell me,” he demands. All the light-hearted fun we were having has disappeared. He is deadly serious. I don’t need to see his face to know what it looks like. Those eyes will be stones, unreadable ones. He moves beside me, pulling his arm away, and I feel his loss. It hurts deeply.
“Umm . . . this is going to sound crazy.”
“Try me.”
“Well, when I first got here I was up at Thomas Point Lookout, and I was having a hard time with family stuff. A young girl came strolling up to the bench and sat with me.”
“No . . .” He chokes, his head falling into his hands. It’s as if he already knows whom I’m talking about.
Sadness fills me as I watch his face contort, and he simply shuts down. “Are you okay?” I ask.
His gaze doesn’t move from the sand he’s now playing with. “Yeah, keep going.” He says, his voice sullen and low.
So, I do. “She told me about her brother, and that she’s super proud of him, and that she loves him as do her parents. She told me her name was Olive.” I take a deep breath. Gosh, I must sound crazy. “I saw her again when I was in my coma after the accident. She told me you were her brother. She loves you so much.”
His shoulders begin to shake. He cries silently.
Reaching out, I touch his shoulder, but he moves so fast away from me, it’s as though I gave him an electric shock.
Getting up, he walks back the way we came and away from me. Tears fill my eyes, and my chest feels as though it’s been stomped on a million times.
“Seth!” I call after him. He doesn’t look back. My eyes follow him until he disappears from my view. Me and my big mouth. Guilt and sadness grip me tightly around my chest, my lungs constrict from its solid grip—I ruined our wonderful evening.
Tilting my head up, I look at the moon. “I’m such an idiot. Sorry, Olive—I stuffed up,” I cry out hoping Olive can hear me. The breeze around me whips through my hair, as though she’s here letting me know everything will be all right. Seth can be a stubborn man at times, according to what Sherri told me, while we’ve worked at the café. This is one of those occasions. Of course, it’s not easy hearing someone say they saw a vision of your dead sister. Stupid, Chloe, stupid.
I pull my phone out, about to call Janie to come get me when the moonlight casts a shadow over me. I whip my head around.
Seth stands there, a sullen look on his face, his lips not smiling their usual heart-melting smile. “Come, I’ll take you home.”
“To the cottage?” I question hesitantly. I wish I knew what he was thinking. His being like this is killing me. This car ride is going to be hard.
“No, back to Nan’s. She’d be mad at me if I took you to the cottage. We’re looking after you while you recover.” His response sounds very robotic.
“I think I’d rather just go back to the cottage.” My stubbornness gets the better of me. Slowly, I gather myself up and get off the sand. Only moments ago, we were sitting here enjoying each other’s company and confessing our feelings towards one another. It was a happy memory. Now, it’s not.
Seth leans over, picking up my crutches and hands them to me after I’m standing. “No, it’s not happening,” he replies with anger and annoyance evident in his answer. “Come on.”
“Look, I don’t want to ride with you if you’re going to be Mr Snappy Tom at me,” I reply coldly. “I’m sorry about what I said—perhaps I shouldn’t have said something that sounds so crazy.”
He shakes his head. “No, don’t apologise. It’s just hard for me to accept.”
He walks ahead of me as we make our way to the car that he has running and waiting on the road near the beachfront. The car ride is silent—the stillness is painful. Neither of us speak. I wish I knew what was going on with him. He said he didn’t want there to be secrets between us, but it seems to me that he still has something going on.
After the short tension filled drive, we arrive home, and Seth assists me by getting my crutches, but once we’re in the door, he storms off down the hallway towards his room. I have nothing left in me; my emotions bounce all over the place.
Entering the kitchen, I turn on the kettle to make myself a cup of tea. Perhaps it’s time to move back to the cottage. At least there wouldn’t be so much tension surrounding us. While I wait, the sound of shuffling behind me has me spinning around. I come face to face with Sherri, who has a very concerned look on her face. Her eyes are sad and questioning. “What happened, dear?”
When I hear her sweet voice say those words, I break. She walks over and takes me in her tiny arms. I bend down to her level. Her arms tighten around me. Stepping back, she watches me.
“I said the wrong thing,” I admit, hanging my head in shame.
“You take a seat, and I’ll make the tea.” She gives me one of her comforting smiles. Things may not be as bad as what I’m making them out to be. Maybe he needs time to think about what I’ve said.
After a moment, Sherri sits at the table across from me, sliding my tea towards me and hugging her own mug.
“Thank you.”
“That’s okay. Now what’s happened?” She takes a sip of her tea, as do I.
“I told him that I’ve seen Olive. I don’t know if it was a dream or vision or whatever. I’m not a huge believer in ghosts, but I can’t explain it. The last time was when I was in my coma at the hospital . . .” I continue to fill her in on everything that has happened. She remains silent the whole time, not giving anything away. She simply sips at her tea, not interrupting me once.
When I finish, she slowly places her cup down in front of her. Her eyes come back up and connect with my concerned ones. “You’re not the only one to have said they’ve seen Olive.”
“Wait—what?” I swear my mouth falls open.
Her hand comes across the table and takes mine. She tightens her grip. “There have been several people who have said they’ve met a young girl who just seems to pop up then vanish. Those people are mostly people like yourself—well, like you when you first arrived. Those who need a friend and or some words of advice.”
I think back. I was a lost soul then. It is only recently that things have started to improve and I’ve begun to be happier within myself.
“So, I’m not going crazy?” I breathe, slightly relieved that I’m not the only person who sees ghosts.
Shaking her head, Sherri continues, “People who have seen Olive would mention it at the bar, and then Catfish would tell myself or Seth. It breaks Seth every time because . . .” She pauses.
“Because she never came to him.”
She nods, confirming my thought. He wishes she’d give him the comfort and guidance she’s given to others. He’s probably seeking her forgiveness, to put his mind at ease.
“I call her the town guardian angel.” Sherri beams. “She comes when she’s needed.”
“Do you think he’ll speak to me again?” I question.
“Dear, he needs you right now. I hope he’s okay. I tried to talk to him, but he told me to leave him be. He hasn’t done that for many years. I can’t have him shut me out again, Chloe. It broke him when he lost his parents.”
“I can only image what he’s going through.”
“Go to him,” she urges.
I rise from my seat immediately, grabbing my crutches and make my way slowly towards the closed door of his bedroom. Giving the door a light knock, I get no response. I open it. The room is dimly lit by the lamp. What I see brings me to a halt; a lump forms in my throat.
Seth sits on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shake hard, each sob a silent one. Each one rips my soul apart, piece by piece. No words are spoken, but I take a seat beside him, pulling him into my arms. He doesn’t flinch away from me as he did at the beach earlier. Instead, he leans on me and I hold him. I’ll hold him until he puts himself back together; I’m not going anywhere.
After his crying stops, we lie in the bed together. My heart pounds in my ribcage.
When I think it’s safe, I decide to speak. “I’m so sorry, Seth.”
On the bed, we face each other. My fingers run through his hair. He hasn’t touched me since the beach, and I’m feeling the loss and emptiness. A piece of me is missing.
“You weren’t to know about the others that Olive’s helped, or how it affected me that she never came to me,” he replies, his voice husky from the amount of crying he’s done tonight. I hate that it was me who caused this.
“I’m sorry for wrecking our evening. It was a beautiful night.”
He nods. “Yes, it was wonderful. I’m sorry my stupidity got the better of me. It was her name you said when you woke up in the hospital.”
“You’re not stupid. I don’t remember saying her name, but yes, I was with her while in my coma, and you’re allowed to show emotion when it comes to your family. They’re your family—you love them and they loved you. Family is everything—”
His lips crash to mine before I can continue. My body responds instantly; my hands go to his face, holding it, wanting to keep our lips moving. He’s a great kisser. One of his legs quickly folds over mine, and I shuffle myself closer to him so our bodies rub up against each other’s.
My body needs his touch in every possible way. Our kisses deepen. His hands wander to places that burn for his gentle caress.
In a matter of moments, we strip each other’s clothes away. There’s fumbling and giggling throughout the process due to the struggles both our casts cause. We lay bare. He slides closer to me, his hands glide up my sides, stopping at my breast as he cups it in his hand. I moan at the touch I’ve been longing for. We slowly move as one. His stroke is like a drug—I yearn for it. His movement quickens and soon we both find our release. It is life-changing. He’s mine and I’m his. Together, we are one.