Between Seasons by Aida Brassington Page B

seemed to write a lot about diabetes and vitamins, most of which made him yawn and drift toward her shelves of books, finge rs itching to grab one and read it.
    “All this modern stuff… well, yeah. Give me primitives or give me death,” Jules said, curling a strand of her hair around a finger. Would Sara’s hair would look like if she let it grow long ? “How do you like the neighborhood?”
    “It’s good. The neighbors are nice, and the woman who lives next door gave me a little tour.”
    “It’s very suburban. I’m surprised you like it.”
    Sara laughed, although it seemed tense and forced, and sat in the rocking chair. “You know I needed something different. I just couldn’t face living in a big city again. Everything urban reminds me of Los Angeles and Scott.” The last word –the name –sounded as though Sara had swallowed something that tasted bad, and her face matched.
    “Is there a church nearby?”
    “I’m sure there is.” Sara stared at Jules pointedly and shrugged. Her sister drew her lips into a pucker, then frowned.
    “Mom and Dad are worried about you, you know?”
    “Yeah, I know. Seriously, though. I’m fine.”
    “You talk to yourself. I’m not so sure you’re fine,” Patrick said.
    “Are you?” Jules sank into the couch, moving the black and gold pillows aside.
    “I swear I am. We all go a little crazy sometimes.” Sara’s voice held a hint of something Patrick didn’t understand.
    Jules’ face barely moved, but a small, tight smile bent her lips. “Yes, well. I’m sure getting divorced didn’t help you there.”
    “Yeah, probably not.” Sara’s eyes narrowed, fists clenching. “Not everyone has their husband accuse them of being a drug-addled floozy during divorce proceedings. That probably didn’t help either.”
    “Wait, what?” Patrick stared at Sara, mouth falling open. Maybe it was the drugs that made her so skinny and nuts. And she’d been married?
    The silence thickened the air until Sara spoke again. “I guess I got lucky . At the very least, Scott cleaning out the house while I was in the hospital made it possible to travel light, both here and when I moved in with Mom and Dad.”
    After another few moments of uncomfortable silence, Jules smiled serenely. “It’s fine not to be okay, you know? I’m pretty sure I would have had a breakdown too if I’d gone through all that.” Her tone had less steel in it now, but Patrick shivered –the change in her voice was creepy.
    A breakdown, though? So Sara really was nuts. That explained a lot. Aside from the constant talking, she acted fairly normal, though –not that Patrick had any idea how a crazy person reacted to things.
    “I’m sure. But I’m good. I even gained a few pounds.” Sara patted her stomach, setting the rocker in motion with her legs. “And this is going to sound weird, but being here is helping.”
    “Moving across –”
    Sara interrupted. “I’m not talking about relocating. Well, not entirely. I mean this house.”
    “What?”
    “I don’t feel alone here.”
    Patrick froze and slowly cut his eyes back to Sara’s face. He was sure there was no way she could mean what he thought.
    She smiled and rubbed her thumbs over the armrest. “I talk out loud.” A moment later she laughed and continued. “At first I talked to Scott… sort of as my own way of dealing with this shit. But then… I don’t know. It feels like there’s someone here with me.”
    “You do know how crazy that sounds, right?”
    Patrick bristled on Sara’s behalf over the condescension in Jules’ tone since Sara seemed so intent on ignoring it.
    “Sure. It’s just that there’s a real history here with this house. Megan told me everyone in town thinks the house is haunted.”
    Jules sat up straighter, glancing around and touching the cross at her throat. “Really? Why?”
    “She doesn’t really know. It probably has something to do with the house being empty for forty years. You know how it is