Read Online Between Seasons by Aida Brassington - Free Book Online

in small towns.”
    “You should call a priest. What if something evil is living here?”
    Sara snorted, and Patrick smiled. He’d never heard her laugh like that – he liked the way her face lightened. “Well, let’s not get crazy. Do you want some dinner?”
    Jules huffed out a breath. “Having a priest bless the house isn’t strange – it’s just smart.”
    “We might as well have a séance,” Sara joked.
    “If you guys drag out candles and a Ouija board, I swear I won’t answer,” Patrick threatened, although deep down he wondered if he could communicate with them that way. Ginny had dragged him to the cemetery for Halloween one year to screw around with spirits, but all that had happened was a lot of making out in the car. One of the chicks in his church’s youth group told him using a Ouija board was a sure way to invite demons into his house , but he had never believed in that either .
    “Fine. Let’s just eat.”
    Patrick groaned as he followed Sara and Jules to the kitchen. He imagined Sara’s food tasted great since it sure smelled amazing. A few nights ago she’d made baked chicken that was enough to make his mouth juicy from the scent.
    “Sandwich okay? I’ve got mozzarella and tomato.”
    Jules nodded and poked her head into the refrigerator. “So, do you really think there’s a ghost?”
    “Yes, I’m right here.” Patrick felt weird that they were talking about him, but he liked that maybe Sara really did have some kind of clue he was hanging around.
    Sara shrugged. “Sometimes it does feel like someone is listening, which is kind of comforting in its own way.”
    “Maybe it’s God who’s listening.”
    Patrick stared at Jules. “I wish.”
    “Um, yeah,” Sara said. “Maybe. I mostly feel like I’m not alone , though, because I keep finding things. It’s like having someone here with me.”
    “You find things? Like what?” Patrick could almost feel Jules tense up.
    “Well, like on one of the first days I was here, I found a bunch of concert tickets from the sixties in the closet in my office. And a few days ago I found a huge stash of records and an old record player in the basement. Oh, and I found a copy of The Turn of the Screw .”
    “That’s weird. Isn’t that your favorite book?”
    Sara nodded, and Patrick stared at her in surprise. He’d cringed when she found it, sure she’d toss it, but she had put in her bedroom on the nightstand. He considered moving it again –she still hadn’t spent much time in the attic, so his hiding place there was still undisturbed –but liked the way the book looked next to her lamp. He liked that she had something of his.
    Sara and Jules ate quickly, not talking any more about Patrick’s stuff or ghosts. It was mostly things about Jules’ family. Her husband was working a lot of hours, she was doing stuff with her church group, and their mom and dad were thinking about selling their bakery again. They spoke about decorating and work.
    “I think I’m going to start a novel,” Sara said after wiping her mouth with a napkin.
    Jules smiled. “That’s wonderful! You could write all about the good work my church – ”
    Sara interrupted. “I was thinking maybe I’d write something based on my divorce. It would make the perfect horror story. Stephen King has nothing on me .”
     
    Sara went upstairs after helping Jules pull the couch apart and make it into a bed. Patrick looked away when Jules whipped off her shirt, giving him a glan ce of pale skin and a pink bra.
    From the very first night the electricity had been turned on, when Sara had taken a shower, he’d tried to avoid rooms with naked women, which struck him as nothing less than hilarious. For most of his teen years he’d gone out of his way to see boobs wherever he could. It was different, though, with Sara –he felt like he needed to give her some privacy. He wanted and he wondered, of course, but he resisted out of a sense of chivalry. His mother would have