21. Evan

21

Evan

I was in a daze after what I’d learned from Deke. The manor was still able to be run as a restaurant, and hotel, for that matter. It just needed to be reopened. Well, and exorcised, but I knew Cary, Al and their coven were actively working out those details.

I’d thought when I saw the dining room, before being hit by the malevolent spirit, that I could see myself running that part of a business. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done similar work in the past.

The hotel, not so much, but the restaurant was very much in my wheelhouse.

After having ice cream at the Tillamook Cheese Factory, still too full from breakfast to do anything else, I closed my eyes as we drove back down the coast and let myself contemplate keeping the estate, at least for now. If I could get the restaurant back up and running and a few rooms occupied, the value would go up significantly, provided it was a viable business.

Besides, it would give me something to do besides feeling sorry for myself and more alone now than ever before. None of my ancestors–Dad, Grandma, or my great-grandmother, for that matter–had ever met someone who lasted long.

I didn’t like to think of being unlucky in love as any sort of family legacy, but I’d long ago come to that conclusion I would face the same lonely fate as them. At least Dad, Grandma and I had always had each other, until I didn’t any longer. That realization still hit me hard enough to make me cry sometimes.

“You’re very quiet,” Cary said softly next to me, drawing my attention from my miserable thoughts.

“Sorry, just thinking about my family and all that needs to be done with the manor.”

“Deke dropped a lot of information on you, didn’t he?”

I glanced over at him and smiled. “It’s good information. I-I already thought the restaurant looked good. Very good, actually. The kitchen was spotless and modernized.”

“They redid it after a fire about five years ago.”

“Fire?” I asked, alarmed.

“Yeah, it was contained, thank goodness, but the state required them to install fire prevention measures after that. That’s part of the reason they stopped renting rooms. They had to put sprinkler systems in each room used by guests. They only got one level done before they decided to stop.”

“That explains why some rooms look better than others.”

“Maybe, but none of them are modern.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “They are horrible, like nineteen seventies and eighties time capsules. Why did they decorate the first floor to the period of the manor, but turn the upper floors into hideous rooms?”

Cary laughed. “No idea. I doubt even Deke can answer that. You can ask his grandfather, but don’t call them ugly or hideous. He was very attached to Cordelia Manor.”

“Not that attached if he made the rooms that gaudy,” I said under my breath, causing Cary to laugh again.

“Are you still okay with going to the dinner and concert tonight? I understand if you’re tired, it’s been another intense day.”

“No, I want to go, and it’s been a good day. Much better than yesterday and the day before. I mean, it’s been heavy in some ways, but at least no ghost has attacked me… yet. Are there ghosts at this theater?”

Cary cringed. “I mean, yeah, but they’re benign. Even Al says they’re harmless.”

“Ugh, what is it with this town and its undead? I swear they should start filming horror flicks here or something, they wouldn’t even need special effects.”

“Maybe another revenue stream for the manor?”

I snorted. “Maybe, and who knew, Mr. Beacroft, you actually have a sense of humor.”

“No, more likely just gas,” he said, winking at me as he glanced my way. “We did eat a lot of cheese back in Tillamook, after all.”

“Well, I’ll roll a window down if that’s the case.”

Cary laughed loudly, and I felt maybe we’d just turned some kind of corner. Not that we had any sort of relationship at this point, even as friends, but the possibility no longer seemed as far-fetched as it had mere hours ago.