Ghost Of You (A Novella)

Chapter Twenty-Two (REWRITTEN)

As a single mother, Julie had spent long hours in an attempt to provide. From sunup to sundown, she lived at her job, missing more than enough of her son's 'firsts.' Once he moved out of the house and the grocery bill was no longer astronomical, she was able to cut back on hours to spend more time with him. Unfortunately, by then, he had his own life and it proved a tough feat to squeeze herself into his busy schedule. Now, she sat directly across from him feeling more disconnected than ever. When was the last time they ate a meal together? She couldn't remember, but she knew it was longer than the amount of time he had spent in the hospital unconscious. So, it stung when he seemed uninterested in her company, "I'm sorry I'm not Avery."

Sebastian snapped his head from his lap. His eyes softened as he observed the woman across from him. No, she wasn't Avery. Avery had the day off but he had still kept his end of their bargain, even though he no longer needed the walker to get around. So today, the task of stuffing him with greasy food fell to his mother, who appeared extremely disappointed by his lack of attention in the present moment.

But that wasn't her fault and she should know that.

"Oh, mom, no," he reached for her hand across the table. "Avery is great, but you're my mother. I like being around you just as much."

The sincerity of his words calmed her tumultous heart. She knew he loved her, he didn't need to voice it, but it made her feel better to know he thought he should. Which brought the conversation back to exactly what she really wanted to address. "But you'd rather it was her."

"I don't know, " he slid down in his seat, picking at his bitten nails. "I like her. Like, really like her but... there's just some weird things going on right now and I don't know what to think about it."

She quirked a neatly plucked eyebrow, "Explain."

He shook his head, blankly staring at nothing particular, "It's just... it feels like I know her. Or I did, at one time."

"She's been with you for a week now. I wouldn't expect you not to know her."

"No, I mean, it—it just feels like I've met her before, or something." The words came out in a rush, sounding crazy even to him when spoken aloud but it was true. "I have these dreams, and she's in them but it's more like a sense of deja vu, as if I've had conversations with her before now. It doesn't feel new. It feels more like memories."

Memories of her flushed face as she ran, strands of hair falling out of her high ponytail—"Now that you've slowed your roll, wanna tell me why you're running?" Her meek response had simply been that she didn't know.

Memories of bright blue skies with white clouds and Avery, her hair sprawled around her, staring up at them from the lush, rolling hills she laid upon—"Then why are you here?"

For whatever reason, he replied with, "I already told you."

Memories of a beach, with a crashing surf and squawking birds—"Ew! No, you weirdo!" She had slapped him arm too many times to count but he didn't remember why.

Memories of darkness. So much darkness. It enveloped them, an enclosure with no visual means of escape. He didn't like it—"If you could live anywhere in the USA, where would you go?" She had asked, wringing her hands and chewing on the inside of her pink cheeks.

"Colorado."

The dreams followed him, like a shadow in the night, haunting his awakened state and stealing any and all other thoughts away. It was disconcerting, to say the very least.

"Maybe you knew her in a past life."

"Maybe."

"Does she like you too? 'Like, really like' you?" Playfully, using her son's own words against him, she hoped to alleviate the sadness and confusion that leached from his body. She hated that he felt this way, even more that she couldn't fix it and it was coming so close on the heels of him being released by the doctors. He should be cheerful and full of life—thankful that he still had the one he almost lost.