Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Poe edged toward Edgar and pressed himself against the same wall. The zippers of his leather jacket scratched against the wall as he trembled.
“You okay?” Edgar asked, never taking his eyes off Allie.
“Uh-uh,” Poe said, his eyes on her as well.
Jamie was listening to something Cameron said, then they went into the bathroom to get water for Allie.
“They’re nice,” Poe said, nodding his chin at Jamie.
Edgar nodded. “They’re everything.”
Poe’s zippers rattled louder against the wall.
“Are you scared for Allie or the baby?” Edgar asked. He knew better than to put an arm around Poe for comfort.
“Allie.”
“Me too.”
“It’ll be weird to have a baby around. It’s been just us three for so long,” Poe said.
“Weird to have you around,” Edgar replied. “It’s been just us two for so long.”
Poe nodded. “I know.”
They stood in silence as nurses and doctors came into the room and swarmed around Allie.
“Do you know what she’s gonna name it?”
“No. I don’t think she knows.”
“Usher,” Poe said.
“Ligeia,” Edgar retorted.
“Dupin,” Poe said. “Do you know the sex?”
“No.”
“Did she—”
“Dude, why don’t you ask Allie?”
“I don’t wanna bother her. She’s in the middle of having a fucking baby.”
Edgar snickered. Poe elbowed him in the ribs the way he’d done when they were children. Poe had the sharpest elbows in the whole world.
“Ow, dammit.”
He elbowed Poe back, but his leather jacket protected him, and he just squirmed away. Then, under his breath, Poe began to chant, “Go Allie, go Allie, go Allie, go,” the same cheer they’d yelled at her high school basketball games. She’d only stayed on the team for two seasons. After Dad had left, their mom’s behavior had rapidly gone downhill, and Allie had quit basketball to get a job—first at the po’boy joint on the corner, and then at Magpie Vintage. But she’d been pretty good, and Edgar, Poe, Cameron, and Antoine had been in the bleachers for every game, cheering her on.
Cameron shot them a look, but that just made Poe raise his voice. Then Edgar found himself joining in, and they chanted it together.
“Go Allie, go Allie, go Allie, go!”
Cameron snorted and shook her head.
“Are they,” Allie gasped between attempts to expel her offspring, “doing a”—scream and push—“basketball”—swearing, swearing, swearing—“chant right now?”
“If we had a sanitary garbage can, you could try for a three-pointer,” Poe suggested mildly. His eyes danced with an infectious humor. “A padded sanitary garbage can.”
Cameron cut them a withering look. “You all never did know shit about basketball. It would obviously be a two-pointer.” She grinned, and the smile hit Edgar like stepping into the warm sun on a cool day.
“Would you assholes shut the fuck up!” Allie yelled. “My baby will not be a fucking two-pointer. It will obviously—” She grabbed the plastic side of the hospital bed with one hand and Cameron’s hand with the other. As she screamed and squeezed, Cameron winced. “Be a slam fucking dunk!”
Poe snorted. Cameron chuckled and patted Allie’s hand. Edgar grinned. His family. They were all back in one place. It had been so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like. And now, to have Jamie here with them? It was more than he’d ever let himself imagine.
Jamie’s eyes found Edgar’s, and even from across the room, he could feel their attention, their support.
Then Allie began to do something Edgar could only describe as impossible. He forgot that Poe was back. He forgot that Cameron was there. He forgot that he was quickly falling for Jamie and was terrified he’d mess it up. He even forgot to be afraid that a ghost would appear. All he could do was watch as his big sister brought a fucking person into the world.
A person who was going to have a whole life, full of love and fear and failure and joy and hope.
At some point, Poe had migrated up to the bed. A nurse wiped goo out of the baby’s nose and mouth. Jamie was bending over Allie and taking pictures of the tiny gunk-smeared creature. Cameron had her hand on Allie’s brow and was stroking her hair back, smiling down at the baby.
The doctor and two nurses inspected the baby, wrote something down, then handed them back to Allie.
Edgar stood, back against the wall, and watched as the blood poured from Allie. No one seemed to notice, too focused on the baby. But bright red blood came so fast. Too much, surely? Life draining out of her. Someone should do something? Why weren’t they helping her?
A nurse put a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you need to sit down?” he asked quietly.
Edgar pointed at the blood.
“Perfectly normal,” the nurse said. “I know it looks like a lot, but we just need to stitch her up, and she should be fine.”
Edgar didn’t believe him.
This was all it took to become a ghost, really: flesh rending. To a bullet, to a knife, to disease, to a fist, to despair. Humans were just future ghosts walking around. Allie would be a ghost. And Poe and Cameron. Edgar would be a ghost someday. And Jamie.