Page 10 of We Live Here Now

“Okay, busted. I did. I suffered for that lie though.”

“I pretended to like skiing,” Iso says. “To be fair, I thought I would like it. But I quickly realized I was born for après-ski, not actual-ski. Those were a long few winters before I fessed up.”

“But I like that you pretended to like it. What about you two?” Mark looks at Freddie and me. “You got together first. What were you, twenty? So, fifteen years ago? Things still the same?”

“Well, nearly dying of sepsis and spending months in the hospital can change a girl.” I don’t want to talk about me and Freddie. I’m not sure it would be so funny. We haven’t told the others about the lost baby. Freddie said it was up to me, but I didn’t want to share it.

“We agreed straight off we wanted a traditional marriage,” Freddie says suddenly. “I’ve always wanted kids and Em said she did too, and I always liked the idea of the man supporting the family and the wife making the home. Traditional values and everything.”

“And I do too. But we don’t have children.” I feel another flash of guilt and pain, and I’m angry at Freddie for starting this conversation. The baby would have been a cuckoo in our nest, I know that. And maybe, awful as it is, the loss has been for the best, even if my heart sees it differently. “Anyway, we’ve got time to make a family.”

“Ticktock, ticktock.” Iso leans forward. “I didn’t realize men’s balls had a baby clock!” Nothing can dampen Iso’s mood tonight, and thank god for that because it feels like the rest of us are a bit snippy.

“But yes,” I concede. “Maybe I didn’t feel as strongly about those values as you did. And I underestimated how much I would like working.”

“And you pretended to like hiking and Freddie pretended he liked books,” Cat cuts in, trying to lighten the moment. “I bet that was as much research as my jazz panic.”

“My point is,” Russell powers on, “that we all fall in love in part with an illusion, because we all present an illusion to someone who we want to love us. We heighten the best bits of ourselves and hide the worst bits. And when looking at our partner we ignore the hints of the things that might annoy us and see only the good. The madness of first love. A successful marriage is about accepting that no one can ever be that perfect version they showed you and you chose to believe.”

“And that,” I say with a sigh, “was the longest explanation ever for why a couple the rest of us can barely remember from college are getting divorced. Maybe we should stop this now or it will be after-dinner divorces for us, rather than after-dinner mints.” My joke is bad, but it’s enough. “I’m just happy to have you all here and to be out of the hospital.”

“Amen to that.” Mark raises his glass, and they all join in with “To Emily!”

“And to this lovely, amazing, huge, fantastic house!”

“And all its weirdness,” I add, glad for the subject change, and Iso’s eyes widen, delighted.

“Tell me it has a ghost.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’ve heard weird noises at night. Had odd feelings.” I stop there, not willing to go as far as mentioning fires going out and books flying off the shelves. “It could just be me though.”

“It’s not haunted, Em,” Freddie says, exasperated. “It’s old.”

“How do you know it’s not haunted?” Iso’s sharp with Freddie.

“I don’t feel anything odd at all,” Freddie says on cue.

“Even if you did, you wouldn’t admit it,” Iso counters.

Freddie’s in full disbelief mode, and I don’t want to argue with him. Iso, like me, has always been fascinated by the weird. Back in the day we’d be at every fair having our tarot cards read, going to those ridiculous “An Evening with…” medium shows, and all that kind of stuff.

“You see, perfect example,” Russell says. “Freddie used to tell you it was cute that you believed in all this woo-woo stuff, but now it just annoys him.”

“Enough, Russell.” Mark reaches for the cheese. “You never have known when to stop.”

“I don’t find it surprising that Emily feels things that you don’t.” Cat fingers the crucifix at her neck thoughtfully. “After all, she was dead for a few minutes. They had to bring her back.”

“There was nothing when I died, Cat. Literally nothing.” I don’t like thinking about the nothingness. No tunnels or bright lights. One minute I was there in a haze of fever and panic and then there was only the void.

“Nothing you remember. But you crossed to the other side. If we’d been a hundred years ago or whatever, you’d have stayed dead.”

“Gee thanks, Cat.” I try to lighten the mood, but in the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and the warm glow of the candles, a hush has settled across us.

“You know what I mean. You’ve glimpsed behind the veil. Ifthere’s a spirit in this house, maybe they can reach you in a way they can’t the rest of us.”

“I know what we should do!” Iso claps her hands together with excitement. “The Ouija board!” She looks at me. “You still have that, right?”

“I don’t know,” Freddie says. “I might have thrown it away.”

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