Through the Darkness: Of Love and Loss Series Book One

44

"Goodness," Daphne murmured several minutes after the men and children left, "I've forgotten how wonderful a quiet home can be."

Elyria smiled, pulling out one of the kitchen chairs nearby. She set her lemonade on the counter, then sat with a muffled groan and rubbed her lower back to ease the ache. "Without fearing that the children are getting into mischief somewhere?"

"My thoughts exactly," Daphne laughed. "You better enjoy this while you can. Soak up every last drop of quiet because, in four and a half months, you're going to miss it."

They fell silent while Daphne began washing and peeling potatoes until Elyria gathered her nerves and quietly asked, "What scares you the most about being a mother?"

Daphne set her potato and knife down on the counter with a muffled clatter. "Honestly? That I'm no better at this than my Aunt Martha."

Elyria scoffed.

"I'm serious. I can't think of anything worse than when my children are grown and on their own, they'll come back and tell me I've scarred them for life. Just like Desmond and Henry did."

"You're nothing like her," Elyria said with an adamant shake of her head. "And Des and Henry would blame just about anything on that poor woman if they could. Remember how they accused her of being responsible for the river flooding when she refused to let them go camping with the McMahan twins? Never mind that by doing so, she saved them from being killed alongside those poor boys."

"I'd forgotten about that." Daphne sighed and finished working on the potatoes. "Are you scared?"

Elyria took another sip of her lemonade and traced the embossed pattern on her glass with her thumb. "I'm terrified."

Daphne clucked her tongue and filled a pot with water, "Do you remember when Anne was born?"

Elyria nodded. "You almost died."

"She was two weeks old by the time I first held her... it's still one of my most cherished memories." Daphne began cutting the potatoes and dumping them into the pot. "Simon once asked me if I felt jealous of you for being able to hold her when I couldn't... I did a little, but I also felt relieved."

Tears stung Elyria's eyes at the admission. Then, as she wiped the moisture away, she cleared her throat and whispered, "Why?"

The soft, raspy clunk of cutting potatoes stopped. Daphne's voice wavered with emotion when she said, "Because you were there to hold her and love on her when I couldn't." She sniffled and resumed cutting, "Your little one will be lucky to have you for a mother."

Elyria set her glass down and dried her face with the edge of her nightgown. "I think I'll change and prepare for the day."

Daphne cleared her throat. "Excellent because you're in charge of the green bean casserole. I can't stomach the feel of them in my fingers."

When the men returned a bit later with a sleeping William and giggling Anne in tow. The house smelled of sage, roast turkey, cooked potatoes, and fresh-baked bread.

Thankfully, Elyria's morning nausea had long since passed, leaving her with a voracious appetite once they all sat at the table, forks in hand and plates loaded with a sampling from each steaming dish.

Both the food and conversation were plentiful, the latter continuing after everyone ate their fill and cleared the table of the leftovers.

"Tell me more about this house you visited," Daphne said, holding a fussy William in her arms as she paced between couch and table. "Is it haunted?"

Everett laughed. "Not that I'm aware of. No one's lived in it since they built it."

"Doesn't mean it can't be haunted. Wouldn't you agree, El? Remember the old Lambert home when we were younger?"

Elyria nodded, resting a hand on her belly. "I wouldn't step foot on the property, even after Stephen promised me ten dollars, but Daphne did."

"I bought myself a new pair of gloves with that money," Daphne laughed. "Oh, how I loved them. They were the prettiest blush pink I'd ever seen."

"What happened there?" Everett asked, taking Elyria's hand in his.

William quieted, and Daphne resumed her seat next to Elyria. "Shall I tell the story, or do you want the honors?"

Elyria chuckled. "You, since you're the one who actually saw it."

"Saw what?" Simon and Everett said in unison, each with a mixture of fascination and skepticism in their voices.

"So, there we were—well, actually, only me. Stephen and El remained on the sidewalk out front. How old were we at the time? Thirteen or fourteen?"

Elyria nodded.

Daphne cleared her throat and continued, "If I remember correctly, Darius Lambert finished building the house in 1904. But he never stepped foot in it because his wife, Evelyn, died in an accident while they were at the World's Fair a month before. So two years passed with no one living in the home for more than a month at a time—four families each bought and sold the property. It lays vacant to this day."

"Why do I not remember any of this?" Simon asked.

"Perhaps because you've never given ghost stories much credence, and at the time, you were infatuated with Ida Pickett and her expansive bosom."

Simon leaned toward Everett and whispered loudly, "It was quite a spectacular bosom."

"I beg to differ," Daphne muttered. "I've seen cow udders far more impressive."

Everett laughed.

Elyria giggled. "Continue, Daph."

"As I was saying... the house fell in disarray, and by 1906, it looked as though it'd stood abandoned for a hundred years instead of only two. After she wisely refused, El's brother Stephen dared me to enter the house for ten dollars. I'd barely slipped through the broken front door when I heard a woman laugh in the room to my right."

"Someone else taking a look?" Everett asked, his voice low.

"That's what I initially thought, but no one was there except me."

"Spooky," Simon chuckled, "did you leave after that?"

"Of course not; I had ten dollars at stake. But, what's even more spooky is that when I reached the upstairs floor, I saw a woman at the end of the hall, and she saw me."

"You just said you were there alone," Simon murmured with a wry laugh.

"Which is true. I could see straight through her to the window beyond."

They fell silent, and then Everett asked in a hushed whisper, "What happened next?"

"We sat and had tea, then she read my palm and told me I'd have thirteen children with a man named Horace."

Simon choked.

Elyria burst out laughing.

"I'm teasing," Daphne giggled. "She vanished seconds later, and I ran out of there, screaming. Utterly terrified."

Everett clucked his tongue. "We didn't see any ghosts at the Andrews home when we walked through earlier today."

Simon admitted softly, "I quite liked it."

"Then I'm sure I will, too, even if there are ghosts," Daphne said. "Especially since it's only a short walk from here, which means our children can grow up as best friends, just like their mothers."

"Well said, darling," Simon murmured, "now, who's ready for pie?"