Nine

Vale

Fighting an emotional hangover from the night before, I hummed a happy tune to myself while I mixed the pasta salad for the barbeque. Outside the lawnmower rumbled in my backyard, loud through the open windows and almost drowning me out. I hadn't realized Brennan was coming over to do the yardwork until he'd shown up and started mowing and trimming. He'd told me he did the work on the weekends, but I'd forgotten.

My gaze scanned the perimeter of the yard, looking for anything or anyone out of place before I returned my attention to my brother-in-law—or perhaps that would be former in-law. I didn't know. I was living the split-life reality and the logistics of the whole thing still confused me.

Unaware of me, Brennan bobbed his head to whatever tune played through his AirPods. Though his hair was blond where Day's was dark, he looked much like his brother had when we were in high school. Ironically, Dayton had done my parents' yardwork back then, so I was getting some severe deja vu.

Turning away, so he didn't think I was some weird middle-aged lady staring at him, which was surely how he'd see me since I was a good dozen years older than him, just like his brother. With a small smile, I returned to my preparation, thinking of Dayton and anticipating seeing him that night.

I'd finished the pasta salad, cut the fruit for the fruit bowl and had stowed them both in the refrigerator when a knock came at the front door. The hum of the mower had stopped, but I'd been lost in thought about Dayton and hadn't realized that Brennan had finished working.

After wiping my hands on the kitchen towel, I jogged through the house to the front door. My gaze flitted around, checking the area outside, before settling on the younger man.

"Hey," I said. "All finished? Give me a second and I'll get cash for you?"

"No, wait," he blurted, reaching out to grasp my arm when I started to turn away. His eyes seemed to look inside me again, the same as they had a few days ago. "I wanted to say thanks for the cookies. They were really great. They're my favorite kind."

I knew that but didn't say so.

"I think they melted Day's brain, though. Shocked him. He didn't know what to think."

"Because I can bake?" I asked cautiously.

Staring into my eyes, he slowly shook his head. "But you know those are my favorite."

"I… Why do you say that?" I asked, in a strangled whisper.

His certainty didn't falter. With a small smile, he moved to sit on my front step and patted the place beside him. Slowly, I moved outside, scanning the area again, then sank onto the cement stoop.

"When I was little," he said, his gaze on the yard and giving me a reprieve from his probing stare, "I saw things grownups didn't see."

"Lots of children do until they grow out of it."

"Yeah. Thing is…I didn't. I pretended to after I heard my mom and dad talking about taking me to a shrink. But I didn't." He licked his lips, looking down. "I still see things."

"Oh…" I smoothed my suddenly damp hands down my denim-covered thighs, trepidation rattling me. I'd wanted this. It was the whole point of moving here. But I'd wanted Dayton to know—and believe me— first. Could this be…true? Maybe, I was making too much of what Brennan was saying.

"And, um, what do you see?" I asked.

His fingers tapped on the vertical rise of the step under him, and he stared out over the neighborhood then focused on his house, where we all used to live.

"Maybe, you'd call it auras. People's spirits. Other things most others don't or can't perceive. I don't see dead people—at least, I didn't think so until… I…" His lips twisted as he worked out his words. "I know who you are."

My chest tightened, knots twisting in my belly. "Who do you think I am?"

His breath shuddered, and his hand fisted, banging slowly on his leg. He was as nervous as me. "Melonie."

"Brennan…" I breathed. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but something kept me frozen in place.

"I'm not wrong," he exclaimed. "I don't understand it, but I'm not wrong!"

"I don't really understand it, either." Tears burned in my eyes. Brennan had practically been my son. The only child I'd ever had since Dayton had never been ready. I'd missed this teen almost as much as the man who'd been my husband. They'd been my world.

"I'm not wrong," he repeated, certainty in his voice. Stormy blue eyes fastened on me, searching for confirmation.

"No, Brennie. You're not wrong. I just couldn't leave, and this was the only way."

Taking me by surprise, he threw himself into my arms, sobbing as he crushed me to him. "You were gone for so long. Why were you gone for so long?"

"I didn't know how to come back," I whispered into his neck. "I had to wait until you both grieved. You never would have believed me, might not believe me now."

His arms tightened. "I would have. I would have believed you. I missed you so much. Don't leave us again. Please."

I shook my head. "I'll do everything I can to stay."

Including helping Dayton to bring down the person who'd murdered Melonie Windsor. I just hoped it didn't get me—and the people I loved—killed in the process.

"You can't tell Dayton," I said. "You can't. He doesn't…he can't see things like you can. Right?" If he did, why hadn't he recognized me? Why wouldn't he have told me of the ability when we were married?

"No, he can't. It's gonna be a brain fuck for him," Brennan said, eventually pulling back. He swiped his wrist across his reddened eyes, his cheeks mottled.

"But it's not to you?" I asked.

"I don't get how it happened, but yeah, I could tell. The cookies, your soul, no one else—even my mom—ever called me Brennie…"

"Oops."

He breathed a single thready laugh. "Will you…tell me what happened?"

"I shouldn't. That's something I need to tell Dayton. So he can use his legal connections to bring justice. And I don't want to put you in danger."

"Do I know who it is? Who it was, I guess?"

"Yeah, Brennan. Yeah, you know."