Between Seasons by Aida Brassington Read Free Book Online Page B

write?”
    “Anything. I have a few regular clients I do press releases and website content for, but I’m hoping to pick up more freelance work locally .”
    “That’s great!” A moment of uncomfortable silence settled over the kitchen while Patrick tried to understand what the Hell Sara had just said; he had no idea what freelancing was or what a press release or website content was. Megan looked at her wrist, pushing up her sleeve to expose a small watch, and wrinkled her nose as she stood. “Oh, hey, I should go. I have to pick Stephanie up from Roger’s mom’s in about an hour, and I still have to finish some stuff around the house.”
    Sara smiled again, touching Megan’s shoulder as they moved toward the living room. “Don’t let me keep you. Thanks so much for the cookies and the welcome.” Patrick followed , not letting Sara out of his sight .
    “Seriously, no problem. I’m thrilled to have someone else under the age of sixty on the block. It seems like everyone else has lived here for generations. Come over sometime - we’ll have tea or something.”
    Megan opened the door, and Sara shook her hand. “That sounds great. Hey, hang on. I’ll give you my number.” She grabbed her purse from the fireplace mantle and dug around, producing a rectangle of light green paper. “There you go.”
    “I’ll call you later so you have my number in your cell phone. If you want, I can show you around town. There’s not much to it, but there’s a cute downtown area with a few really great shops and restaurants, and there’s a good grocery store .”
    Patrick tried to read what was on the card before Megan stuffed it into her back pocket.
    “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll look forward to your call.” Sara smiled, but he didn’t think she looked all that excited. He was probably just imagining it, though –it had been a long time since he’d been around people, and he was really just guessing how Sara would feel. Patrick was anxious to get the neighbor out of the house , so he could listen to Sara talk to the air again.
    Megan stepped out the door and waved as she walked down the stairs, breaking into a jog across the lawn. Patrick stood behind Sara at the door, breathing in the floral-scented air greedily. The sunshine lit his face, and he smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of it until he realized it didn’t feel like he thought it would. It didn’t warm his face as he remembered… not exactly. But even with the subtly different sensation that he couldn’t quite name, it was the best he’d felt in years. Decades, actually. He wished he could communicate with Sara in some way and ask her to keep the door open for the next hour or two until the shade took over the porch.
    After a few more moments, Sara stepped back into his chest and away from the door before shutting it. She felt so odd. He’d forgotten the difference of flesh moving through his body . It wasn’t like the things he’d grown used to, like the wall or the banister of the stairway. It was unpleasant in its own way, and yet he didn’t move from his spot, enjoying the awareness of having a body close to his. He curved his arms around her shoulders, trying to hug her to him, feeling her loss when she took another couple of steps back and headed upstairs.
    He couldn’t convince his feet to take a step. If he had to be trapped in this prison – cut off from his parents, his friends, and everything outside the house he’d ever know –maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Sara kept him company. But what if he never moved on from whatever this was? She probably wasn’t thirty yet, but was it feasible to think she’d live there until she died?
    She would die. It was just a fact. He wondered if she passed away in the house if she’d turn into a ghost and live with him forever. He didn’t know her well enough to even know if he’d want that, although he was well aware that beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even if she started giggling