Came Back Haunted (Experiment in Terror #10) - Karina Halle Page 0,114
I look across the table at Dex, who gives me a soft smile, his eyes wet. Still part of our family, but not wanting to intrude.
I sit back down beside him and he kisses me softly on the cheek, grabbing my hand under the table.
I think that was needed, kiddo, I hear him say.
“So what do you think it all means?” Ada asks, dabbing her tears away with a napkin. “Don’t let her?”
“She’s either talking about you or Perry,” Dex says. “And none of us can figure it out. But we have some ideas…”
I take the reins again. “This whole talk wasn’t to spoil our dinner, or to make the both of you feel bad, or to throw all your secrets in the air. It’s about me coming clean to what’s been happening in my life. There’s a lot going on, things I should be more open about. Things I need to be more open about. I can’t keep you guys out anymore. You’re Palominos. You’re my family.”
And then I launch into it.
They attempt to finish the rest of their dinner while I yammer on about the last six weeks, but more often than not, they’re both staring at me, slack-jawed. I tell them everything, from my depression, to my therapist, to wanting a baby, to Samantha and her demon, to Atlas and Harry and filming again, to Dex’s possession (minus the sex part)…everything except Maximus, and that’s only because I need to talk to Ada about that alone.
When I’m finally done, my throat hurts from talking, my pulse is racing, and I finish the rest of my wine with trembling hands.
Neither my dad nor Ada know what to say. I just piled a dump truck full of information on them.
“So,” Dex says, clearing his throat. “Perhaps Ingrid’s message was about going into the house. Don’t let her go into the house. Or maybe it was don’t let her get pregnant. Or maybe it was don’t let her keep things bottled up inside. Or maybe it’s don’t let Ada continue to screw Jay, and if so, problem solved.”
My father blinks at that. Ada looks less than pleased.
“We don’t know,” Dex continues. “And until she gives us something more concrete, we can’t know.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why you Palomino women are always so vague.”
“Well, I don’t know what to do with that,” my father says, adjusting his glasses. “She’s so…adamant. It’s terrifying.”
“But until she clears it up, we can’t do anything,” Dex points out. “We’re not mind readers here.” He glances at me. “Well, you are.” Then he looks at Ada. “And maybe you are…”
“There’s a reason though that she’s going to you, Dad,” I tell him. “Don’t you think? If it was really about me or Ada, and she wanted to keep us safe, don’t you think she’d appear to us?”
“Yeah,” Ada says. “I saw her, but she didn’t say anything to me. It was just for a second but she could have tried. She didn’t.”
“Maybe it’s not even her,” Dex says quietly, running his long fingers up the length of the wine glass.
We all ponder that for a moment.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” I say. “All we can do is just move on and hope that at some point the truth will come to light. None of us can stop living over this. And Dad, that means you have to stop worrying.”
I pause to have a sip of water. “Ghosts, even ghosts of the people we love the most, they aren’t like us anymore. They can’t always communicate in the same ways that they once did. You should have seen how Pippa first appeared to me, scared the crap out of me. I think we just need to take this as it comes.”
Silence settles over us like snowflakes. We’re all lost in our thoughts.
When dinner is over (though honestly no one ate very much thanks to me) we do the dishes and then retire to the living room to stare at the presents and the Christmas tree. Ada serves us all mulled wine with cinnamon sticks, my dad puts on A Christmas Story as is the tradition (he loves that damn lamp), and we settle in for a cozy night, candles lit, lights twinkling.
About half-way through the movie, Ada calls me into the kitchen to help her with something.
“What is it?” I ask, looking around. The kitchen is a mess, flour everywhere. She’s really turned into a Suzy Homemaker.