Chapter 15
Dani knows that she has had yet another dream of that room when she wakes Valentine’s Day morning. She can remember this one a lot more clearly than she has the others – just as before, the more she has the dream, the more she remembers it – and while her patterns of moving within the room have changed, no longer the repetition of waking, walking to the window, walking to the door, walking to the chest, and then beginning to look at herself in the vanity only to fade into another dream entirely (or waking from it abruptly to where she is hopefully in bed and not curled up on the couch) – while that pattern has changed, she has found that it has only been replaced with a new one.
Now that there are bookshelves, Dani finds herself drifting to them, browsing through the books, and picking one of them. It always feels as though the decision is made at random, and yet she finds herself picking the same book every time: Twelfth Night. Sometimes, she thinks she grabs a different book – she is certain that she does – and yet Twelfth Night is the one that finds its way into her hands again and again, with or without her wanting it. She opens the book and—
Usually, Dani doesn’t remember much past that point, but this time, she remembers: Viola circled each and every time it shows up in the text. In the dream, her eyes narrow, and she looks through the book for any other notation that should suggest some sort of explanation for what she is seeing, and it is only when she flips to the very front of the book that she notices something is written in the top right hand corner of the first page in an ink so faded that it is nearly illegible. Yet somehow, the ink still shines where the light hits it, and she is drawn to it. She bends closer to read what is written—
And that is the new turning point.
Where before, Dani would be thrust from the dream the moment she tried to see her face in the vanity, now she is thrust from it whenever she tries to read what is written in that upper right hand corner of the front page, in that faded black ink on the deep scarlet. If she didn’t know any better, she would think that the woman – the creature – living within her is trying to prevent her from learning something while at the same time leaving clues suggesting it, but she doesn’t want to think about that.
Now that she has remembered, though, Dani sits up sharp in the bed she shares with the love of her life, props her bare feet on the cold hardwood floor, and makes to rush from the bedroom into the living room, to the bookshelf where the real copy of Twelfth Night sits, to see if, for some reason, the name is circled there the way it is in the dream, to see if, somehow, she can read the writing in the upper right hand corner – if it is even there in the first place.
But as soon as she makes to move out of their shared bed, Jamie wraps an arm around her waist and mushes her face against the small of her back. “Come back to bed,” she mumbles, arm tightening against the edge of her red shirt, some of her fingers flat against Dani’s skin where the shirt has halted itself just a little too high as she slept. “It’s too early.”
Dani stays where she is. One of her hands moves to Jamie’s, interlacing their fingers together. “You don’t even know what time it is,” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder to where Jamie hasn’t moved either.
“Don’t have to know to know that it’s too early.” Jamie tugs on Dani’s waist. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Come back to bed.”
“If it’s really Valentine’s Day,” Dani says, turning to brush some of the curls out of Jamie’s face, “you need to be up early. All of those flowers and bouquets and everything. We need to get going.”
It’s a moment – a very long moment, but a moment nevertheless – before Jamie seems to comprehend what Dani is saying, what she herself has said, and she pops up all at once, eyes that dark, hazy green that says she is awake but only just. She stares at Dani. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Yes.”
“You said it was Valentine’s Day.”
“Yes.” Dani can feel the smile creeping easy as anything. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Jamie doesn’t exactly flinch away as Dani leans closer to give her a kiss. It’s more that she has started to move in sudden, quick, focused movements just as Dani bent towards her. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m running late. We’re running late, Poppins.”
Dani’s head tilts to one side. “You don’t even know what time it is!”
“Doesn’t matter. It is Valentine’s Day, and we run a flower shop. We are always late.”
Dani wasn’t sure that she exactly believed Jamie that morning, but by the time they make it to the shop – a full two hours earlier than Dani is normally there, which is still an hour earlier than Jamie normally gets there – she becomes aware with the line of people already standing outside waiting on them that this is, indeed, the case. She suddenly feels a pang of pity for whatever it was Eddie had to do when he wanted to get her flowers so long ago, and that pang of pity is quickly followed by one of regret and guilt. Although his ghost doesn’t seem to follow her around any longer (he seems to have accepted who she is at the same moment she decided to do something about it), it is still hard to brush away the fact that if they hadn’t had their argument at that exact moment he would still be alive.
Of course, there are other complications that might have come with that. If Eddie was still alive, Dani might have been outed to both of their families against her will. She hopes he wouldn’t have done that, but she has no way of knowing that now. Even if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have felt the need to get out of the country the way she had. She would likely never have gone to Bly, and not going to Bly, she would likely never have met Jamie.
Dani can’t imagine her life without Jamie.
(She can easily enough imagine it without the creature who still lives in her mind, one who has been surprisingly quiet during the daylight hours recently, even though Dani knows from the repetitive dream that she has likely been active while she sleeps.)
The worst isn’t even imagining her life without Jamie – it is imagining Miles still with Peter within him, Flora potentially being taken—
No, what happened was overall for the better, even though Dani hates to admit it – and would certainly never say it to her mother or to Eddie’s family if she ever actually said it at all.
So it is a pang of pity, followed by a mixed pang of regret and guilt, that hits her when she sees the long line, and with those in mind, Dani sets herself to work.
And there is so much work that all of those are quickly forgotten.
Jamie takes Dani’s hand after she flips the shop’s sigh to Closed and gives it a gentle squeeze. “We’re free now,” she says with a sigh, lips curving into that cheeky smile Dani has come to love. “What do you say to a bit of adventuring?”
Dani brushes the dirt from her clothes with her free hand, but she meets Jamie’s eyes nevertheless. “You really want to go out, after all that work? You’re not exhausted?” She certainly feels that way. Although she helps out in the store fairly often, she hasn’t had a day quite like today. Normally the holidays aren’t this jam-packed, and even then, Jamie does most of the heavy lifting herself. (Quite literally. As strong as Dani might be on a mental and emotional level, she has noodle arms. She cannot lift trees. She cannot lift tree. She’s better at other aspects of the job.)
It has been a long day. The sun started going down, the sky shifting from light blue to lavender and rose, about an hour ago, and now the sky has grown quite dark, although not to the point of star-studded. Dani’s lower back aches, and she presses her hands against it, stretching back in an attempt to make it even slightly better. Not much doing. “I am. I could just curl up with a book and a mug of hot chocolate and be perfectly splendid.” She gives Jamie a little grin of her own.
“Don’t say that,” Jamie groans. “I can’t quit hearing Flora, and you know she said it every third word.” She sighs. “If you’d rather curl up with a cuppa, that’s all well and good, but it’s Valentine’s. Don’t you want to go out, Poppins?”
Dani considers this for a moment. Valentine’s Day might be the day for romance and romantic sentiment and chocolates and roses and other bouquets (as she knows full well by this point), but she doesn’t really feel any particularly strong draw to go out and Valentine’s extravaganza. Maybe it’s that she’s grown accustomed to appreciating and living each moment as fully as she can, even if it is working in the shop with Jamie, even if it is curling up with her on the couch and turning the telly on – those moments might be small, but they make up the pattern of her days, and in the end, she would rather have those quiet moments spent with Jamie in the normalcy of their lives than big, loud, overwhelming, overbearing flash moments.
Jamie feels the same way, she knows. That’s why they so rarely have those big dramatic moments. They don’t need them. Bly was enough of a dramatic moment to last a lifetime.
However long her lifetime ends up being, with this beast prowling around in the back of her mind.
When she thinks of the beast, Dani tries to think of the woman whose face
she imagined, but it is hard.
Not because the image doesn’t remain in her mind. She can definitely see it.
She could bring it up now, if she wanted. The problem is that…. Well, it’s
that she doesn’t want to imagine a woman. She wants to imagine a beast
because that is what it is. That is what prowls about in her mind. That is
what wants to devour her. It is somehow worse if a woman, if a real woman,
is doing all of those things.
A faceless beast? It’s just doing what’s in its nature.
A human being? Flesh and blood human? A being full of rage?
That is far harder to deal with.
“I’m happy just to be here with you.” Dani brushes her fingers along Jamie’s skin. “But if you want to go out,” she begins to grin, “we can go out. Where were you thinking? The diner? The bar? Most places are going to be a little full.”
“You’ll find out when we get there.” Jamie wraps her arms around Dani’s waist and pulls her towards her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry,” she murmurs. “There won’t be a lot of people. It’ll be just us. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Dani echoes, staring at her. “What do you mean mostly?”
Jamie grins. “You’ll see.”
Dani stares in the mirror before they leave. She’s clean, she’s changed, she’s made herself look nicer than she did right when they left the shop. Jamie’s told her enough to know that she doesn’t have to dress up all fancy – that it’s probably better that she doesn’t – so she’s fine in a white dress covered with a little floral pattern, with a jean jacket she’s stolen from Jamie’s closet (she has plenty of them, and it smells like Jamie, which Dani loves).
But she looks in the mirror and she expects something else. She isn’t sure what she expects. It’s just her. Eddie hasn’t shown up behind her in years at this point, and the creature—
She hasn’t felt anything from the creature at all today. She expects that she will at some point, like a thunder cloud hanging over the horizon with jagged forks of lightning close enough that you can see it heading toward you and know that you will be hit but you cannot guess at how bad it will be. Maybe that is what she is trying to see in the mirror – not herself, but the faceless creature.
Her lips press together, and she looks at her one green eye. Jamie is right – it is harder to notice her heterochromia now. The green may be a different color, but from far enough away it’s harder to tell than the muddy dirt brown was. That’s a bonus. Maybe, if she looks close enough—
For a moment, Dani feels like she is falling, and in that moment, she can see another woman standing just behind her in the mirror. She isn’t faceless, as Dani thought she would be, and she isn’t real in the sense that Eddie had normally felt real and the image of the creature had normally felt real. Instead, she is semi-transparent. She’s taller than Dani is by almost a full head, and she stands just behind her, one hand resting gently on her shoulder.
And her eyes—
“Dani?”
Jamie pops her head into the bathroom and stares at her. “You almost ready, Poppins?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.” Dani looks into the mirror, and the image is gone. “Let’s go.”
“Okay, put this on.”
Dani gives Jamie a blank look. “I just did my hair, and you want me to put a bandana on over all of it?” She raises one eyebrow. “Not that it won’t be cute, I can make it cute, but—”
“No, no, as a blindfold.” Jamie purses her lips. “You make everything cute, but bandanas aren’t really your style, Poppins.” She reaches over and pushes some of Dani’s hair out of her face, fingers just barely brushing along her skin.
Dani laughs. “They’re more your thing.”
“Yeah, well, got to keep my hair out of my face somehow.” Jamie holds the red paisley bandana out for Dani to take. “C’mon. Blindfold up.”
Dani stares at the blindfold and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know why she’s scared. No, she knows exactly why she is scared. She doesn’t like the dark as much as she once did, and she certainly doesn’t like being tucked away where she cannot see the world. This isn’t that – isn’t even close to that – but she still feels the shiver of it along her spine. Still, she takes the bandana anyway, rolls it into a long thin line, and wraps it around her eyes, tying it behind her head. “Alright,” she says, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Now what?”
“Now, you trust me.”
“I always trust you.” Dani feels what she hopes is Jamie’s hand snaking into her own. Their fingers interlace together, and she can’t help but smile. The touch comforts her, grounds her in the present moment. She feels as safe as she can. The great thing about the bandana blindfold is that, even though it covers her eyes, even though she can’t see much ahead of her, she can still glance down and see her shoes, see the sidewalk, see the little bits of grass or weeds or dandelions that always seem to poke through even the smallest cracks. Most of them are dead right now, of course, given that it is still winter, but this is one of the warmer days where the snow doesn’t cover everything.
Jamie gives her hand a gentle squeeze and then tugs her forward. “We’re going on a walk, you and me.”
“We’re walking there?” Dani echoes, her voice tight. “You’re having me walk down the street in a blindfold?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. It’ll be okay.” Jamie doesn’t mention cars that hit stray walkers; she doesn’t have to. The image still melts into Dani’s head – and has an easier time doing so because there isn’t much she can see to distract herself from it. She bites her lower lip and nods once. Jamie’s thumb runs along the back of her hand, circling in a comforting gesture. “It isn’t far.”
Dani nods again. “Okay. I trust you.”
Still – with her eyes covered, it feels like Dani can hear everything so much louder than she could before. There aren’t a lot of cars that pass them by, but when they do, it’s a very, very loud zoom, so loud that she feels like she’ll get hit, even though she knows – she knows – that she won’t. Her grip grows tighter on Jamie’s hand. It’s instinct. She doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it until Jamie gives her a little squeeze back. “You okay there, Poppins?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just fine.” Dani bites her lower lip and then shakes her head. “No, I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just…. It’s hard, you know. Busy street. Loud cars. Can’t see. I trust you, I do, I just—”
“Eddie.” Jamie completes her sentence, says the name that Dani’s been trying to avoid. She sighs, but it’s not disappointment with her. It’s never disappointment with her because Jamie’s never really disappointed with her. “Do you need to take the bandana off? Will it help?”
Dani licks her lower lip. It would help. It would definitely help. But she can’t help but want to follow whatever plan it is that Jamie has in mind for the evening. “It’s okay,” she says, forcing herself to smile encouragingly. “I’ll be okay. Really. It won’t be for that long, and I’ve been mostly good, and it’s hard, but hard things are sometimes worth it in the end, and—”
She squeaks the slightest bit as Jamie’s lips find hers. It’s too many things at once – the unexpected kiss out of nowhere, the blindfold providing sensory deprivation so oof, it’s nice, the fact that they are in public but she can’t see anyone looking at them and it’s Valentine’s so people probably expect this sort of thing—
The correct response is to swoon, and Dani does, she swoons, and she feels better, and that is what Jamie wants. She presses her lips together as she steps back ever so slightly. Her cheeks are growing hot. She’s blushing. She bites her lower lip. “Was that the surprise?” she asks. “Can I take this off now?”
“No,” Jamie answers. “Just a few more minutes. Can you make it a few more minutes, Poppins?”
Dani nods. As she follows Jamie, the other girl still holding tight to her hand, she asks, “Why do you still call me that? I mean, it’s not like I’m watching kids anymore. I’m not a nanny. And I was never really magical.”
“I think you’re pretty magical.”
“Thanks.” Dani sticks her tongue out, although she can’t know if Jamie’s looking at her or not. “Is it just…oh, I don’t know.”
“It’s a cute nickname. You’re a cute girl. It fits you.” Jamie pauses – and she stops, so Dani stops with her. “Rebecca Jessel may have been perfectly splendid, but you’re actually practically perfect, so it’s the right name for you. Besides.” She reaches over and brushes her fingertips along that ticklish spot just above Dani’s hips, and Dani jumps with a little squeak. “There’s that.”
“What does that have to do with it?” Dani squeaks, wrapping her free arm around her waist to protect her sides from further poking. “That’s got nothing to do with anything!”
“You’re poppin’ a squeak.” Jamie gives Dani’s hand another squeeze and starts forward again. When she steps forward, there appears to be the slightest bit of a step down, and Dani is careful when she moves forward as well. It’s the difference between concrete sidewalk and tar roads. She holds even tighter to Jamie, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. She knows that. “Not much farther now, love,” Jamie says, and of course – of course – she’s right. Only a little further, and they’re there – wherever there is. Jamie takes both of Dani’s hands in her own – and Dani imagines she has turned around to face her. “You can take off your blindfold now.”
Dani grins. “How am I supposed to do that with you holding my hands?” she asks, and she leans forward just enough for their noses to brush together. Forgive her this public display of affection – she’s thinking about consequences, and she’s pushing those thoughts behind her. It’s Valentine’s Day. They are allowed.
Jamie presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and as she does so, she reaches up and pulls Dani’s blindfold up and off. She runs her fingers through Dani’s hair, half mussing it up and half putting it back into place, and then steps back with a wry grin. At first, Dani doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be looking at, doesn’t really want to be looking at anything other than Jamie’s expression – her happiness, her sheer joy at being here together, at doing this – whatever it is they are doing – but then her gaze moves from the love of her life to their surroundings, and she can’t help but gasp.
Their house is within walking distance of many things – some they like, some they don’t much care for, and some they’ve been meaning to visit but just haven’t had the time or the energy to do yet. Jamie has taken them to the latter of these: a park with a garden and a greenhouse that they’ve been meaning to visit and kept putting off and putting off and now, finally, they can’t put off any longer.
The trees outside are covered with snow, but there are fairy lights strung through and around their branches, lighting them up from the inside. Some of the trees are evergreen and have less lights, some of them have lost their leaves for the season and so the lights are tucked in and tight around their trunks and branches. There are different colors among all of them – most glow a bright white, but some are red and others are pink for the Valentine’s season. Flowers – blooming even in winter, which Dani knows is a thing that can happen and does happen but she hasn’t really seen outside of their little shop (Jamie has been meaning to plant more flowers in their backyard and around the front of the house, she just hasn’t yet) – line the pathway where they have been sheltered from the snow, leading around through the rest of the gardens, to the rest of the park, and then into the green house itself. Unlike the lights, the flowers aren’t all red and white and pink, but that makes them even dearer to Dani, who likes the colors of the holiday but likes other colors, too, and wouldn’t want the gardens to be decked out for one holiday for the entirety of winter.
Of course, they aren’t exactly alone. There are other couples walking through the gardens, too, but they are more focused on themselves than they are other couples, just the same way that Dani expects she and Jamie will be shortly.
“You like it?” Jamie asks, her hands shoved into her jeans pockets, leaning forward on the heel of one of her boots. Her head tilts downward – she’s sheepish, looking up every so often as though to gauge Dani’s reaction.
Dani crosses the distance between them easily enough and wraps her arms around her, kissing her cheek. “I love it! It’s so much better than just sitting on the couch!” She squeezes Jamie closer to her. “And we can come back here later, too, can’t we?”
“’Course we can.” Jamie kisses her properly, beaming. She brushes Dani’s hair back behind one ear. “We should get inside, eh? ‘S pretty cold out here.”
Dani shrugs, holding Jamie even tighter. “I don’t know. I’m pretty warm right here. I think I could stay here for hours.” She grins at Jamie’s displeased expression and feigns an unhappy sigh. “But if you’re cold, I suppose we can go inside.” She drops her arms but keeps hold of Jamie’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “Lead on! Where do you want to go first?”
Later on, in bed, Dani can feel Jamie keeping a close eye on her. She’s exhausted – she’ll be sore in the morning; she’s sore now – but she’s happy. Happier than she can ever imagine being. Happier than she’s ever been. She curls over onto one side, moving closer against Jamie, and sighs happily. “I didn’t know Valentine’s could be like this,” she murmurs, staring at Jamie. “It’s actually really nice.”
“It is, huh.” Jamie takes a deep breath, seeming to relax. She smiles at Dani and turns, brushing their noses together. Then she curves one arm around Dani’s waist, pulling her against her. “And you’re going to stay right here with me,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to her lips.
Something in Dani is confused by the words. Her eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?” she asks, staring at Jamie. “Aren’t I always here with you?”
Jamie presses her lips together. “You’ve been wondering more as of late,” she says, voice soft, “but I had a talk with the ghostie, and you’re staying right here.”
A chill fills the center of Dani’s chest, and she stares blankly at Jamie. “You had a talk with her?” she asks. Suddenly, it is hard to breathe. “You talked with her? What did you talk about? What could you possibly have wanted to talk about with her?” She sits up in bed, pulling the blankets around her as she searches for her shirt. “Was it to leave me alone? Was that it? Was it to quit tucking me away and to let me live my life with you? Because if it wasn’t that, then I don’t see why you’d want to talk with her about anything.”
“Look, Dani,” Jamie starts to say as Dani pulls on her shirt. “You’ve got this ghostie who clearly likes to wander. Maybe she just wants some talking to. Maybe that helps her understand—”
“Understand what?” Dani says, pulling her pants on. She stares at Jamie. “Understand what? That it’s my body she’s using? My life she’s devouring? Only she already knows that, doesn’t she? Feasting on me. That’s what she called it. Feasting.” She brushes her hands along her pants and stares at Jamie. She interrupts her before Jamie has the chance to say anything further. “You just stay in here. I’ll go to the couch, won’t I? Just like I would if she were tucking me away? Only you don’t really mind that, do you?”
“Dani—”
But Dani’s gone, leaving the bedroom. She curls up on the sofa, wrapping her arms around herself, and takes a deep shuddering breath. “I don’t know if you can hear me, creature,” she whispers into the darkness, “but I hate you. I hate you, and you can’t have me. I need you to know that.”
But the creature says nothing – does nothing. In fact, it is as silent as it has been all day. Dani isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. Right now, she just feels very much alone.