Dreaming August by Terri-Lynne Defino Read Free Book Online

style sense, or lack thereof. As if Tim knew anything about style with his unwavering choice of polo shirts and cargo pants.
    On her back, arms behind her head, she kept her eyes on the stars swirling in an eternal sky above just in case Augie was still there. She shivered without the warmth of the hoodie on her bare skin. Gooseflesh prickled up the back of her neck, tightened her nipples uncomfortably. Benny palmed them for warmth.
    “Do not cover up on my account.”
    Her eyes widened and she almost looked August’s way. “I thought you were gone.”
    “Ah, no. Just being, as you suggested. And enjoying the view.”
    Benny’s cheeks warmed, but she smiled discreetly.
    “So…you can see me?”
    “Of course.”
    “But I can’t see you.”
    “It seems to be the way of it.”
    “That’s hardly fair.”
    “Neither is it fair for you to be alive and lovely and for me to be dead and unable to show my appreciation for your…loveliness.”
    Benny let go of her breasts. If he could see her, he could also see how thin her nightgown was, and that she wasn’t wearing underwear. A grin itched at her lips. It lit the smallest bundle of kindling under the young woman who would have lifted the bit of cloth away to stand naked in the moonlight in the event it were possible to seduce a ghost. With a slightly sad but almost satisfied sigh, Benny sat up and put the hoodie back on. “I should get home,” she said. “I must seem a crazy person, lying in the grass, in a cemetery, talking to a ghost.”
    “I am the ghost, and the only one who knows you are doing so. But it is not good for a young woman to be wandering about so late at night, in so secluded a place. Bad things can happen.”
    “This is Bitterly.” She zipped her hoodie up to the neck. “If you lived here, you know better. Nothing bad ever happens.”
    “Not true, Benedetta. When I was a young man, a girl was murdered. Beaten horribly and then drowned in the river.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “It is true. Her name was Matilda Tully.”
    “Matilda?” Benny gasped. “As in Tilly?”
    “I do believe she was called Tilly. Yes, Tilly Tully. I was a newcomer to Bitterly compared to my wife’s family. At the time and never actually knew her. Why? Was she a relative of yours?”
    “No, but there’s a rock along the river, just north of town, called Tilly Rock, named for a girl who drowned. You can’t be a kid in Bitterly without being dared to swim to it.”
    “And did you take such a dare, Benedetta?”
    “Of course. It’s just a story.”
    “Indeed it is, but your story is wrong. A girl was murdered by a spurned lover, her father blamed until they found her shoes hidden under the floorboards of her lover’s house. Her father was released, but the man was never apprehended.”
    “Her shoes?” Goosebumps rose on Benny’s arms. “This is really…I wonder if…”
    “You wonder if what?” he asked.
    Prickles of electricity were crackling up Benny’s spine now. She stood up, clutching her hoodie closer. “Do you remember when she was killed?”
    Augie was silent a moment, then, “I believe it was October. Yes. Before Halloween. No children were allowed to tricks-or-treats that year.”
    “I never put it together before,” she said. “No one talks of the murder anymore, but it’s a Bitterly-thing to put shoes out on the front porch every Hunter’s Moon. That’s the full moon in October. One person a year will find something in them. Pebbles, feathers. Nothing valuable or anything. I always thought it was just a fun tradition.”
    “We Italians have a tradition of leaving shoes on the stoop at Little Christmas, so la Befana can leave presents in them.”
    Benny laughed softly. “I know the tradition. My mother’s Italian. But this is different. Only one person ever finds anything in their shoes, and I’ve heard lots of stories about parents putting stuff in their kids’ shoes only to find whatever was in there gone in the morning. I