"Sorry, am I interrupting?" A ghost girl of about 17 stood in front of us, fidgeting a bit. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and her blue eyes were shining. "I'll come back later."
Jesse groaned slightly and got off of me. "No, it's fine." I said. "I'm Suze, the mediator. And you are?"
"Uh, I'm Lindsey." She said. She looked like a Lindsey. "And I'm here because I can't move on until I stop him."
"Ok. Stop who?" Jesse asked, now sitting next to me.
"Paul. Paul Slater." Lindsey whispered, looking around frantically, as if afraid that he would magically appear.
Why wasn't I surprised that something freaky had to do with him? Jesse scowled and then remarked, in his cute Spanish-laced voice, "What has that bastardo done now?"
"Well, he was my boyfriend." Lindsey said. Poor thing! "And the father of my child." She rubbed her stomach- I guessed she'd been about 6 months along when she'd died. "And my murderer."
"What?!" I exclaimed. Lindsey nodded. "But he's never been brought to justice. And I can't move on until he is."
Oh shit. I gasped, and must have looked horrified, because Jesse quickly pulled me into his arms. "Lindsey, I swear, we'll get him. Most definitely." I swore to her.
Lindsey smiled weakly and said, "Thanks. I'm going to motor, to let you guys...uh...get back to what you were doing." She blushed and then dematerialized.
I shook my head and said, "Wow. Knew he was evil, I just didn't realize the extent of the evilness. I wonder why he killed her in the first place?"
"I don't know, querida." Jesse said, pulling me close to him. "But I want you to stay far, FAR away from Slater. And tell Father Dom about Lindsey."
"I will." I said, nodding. "There's no way in hell I'd go near Paul now. Or ever, actually."
Jesse gave me a smile- the one that made my knees go weak- and pulling me in closer. "How about, after dinner, we go get your stuff from the rectory?" I said, tracing random patterns on his chest, over his shirt.
Jesse agreed, and we lay there, not really talking, just kind of staring at each other. Occasionally, Jesse would rub my stomach, or whisper a little bit of Spanish to me, and I'd go all jello-y for a few minutes.
"Dinner!" Andy yelled up the steps. I was actually feeling pretty starved, so I ran down the steps.
To be met with the most disgusting sight on the planet.
"Hey Suze, Jesse." Paul said cheerfully from the dining room.
I'm pretty sure that was what made me throw up. If it wasn't the sight of a murderer, then it would have been watching Brad, David, and Jake eat Fettuchini Alfredo. Either way, I raced into the downstairs bathroom, slammed the door, and vomited.
When I finally came out, I recieved sympathetic looks from everyone. "Pregnancy's a bitch, isn't it?" Paul whispered as I sat down in the only seat left- between him and Jesse.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" I hissed at him.
"Got an invite by Brad." I sent Brad the look of death, and he went red and sunk in his chair. "Trig tutoring before the final."
That's it. One dead stepbrother after dinner. I scooted as far away from Paul as I could, and ate my fettuchini. Mom kept fussing over me, announcing I had a doctor's appointment the next day that she would take me to, and then asked if we needed help moving things in after dinner.
"Oh, no, ma'am." Jesse's always formal like that, calling my mom ma'am and Andy sir. "It'll be a few boxes, but most of it stays at the rectory."
"Dear, dear, please, you're marrying my daughter, I think you can call me Rose." My mom said, brushing off the ma'am bit. "Or mom, or something less formal." Laughter twinkled in her eyes.
"Alright, if you prefer." Jesse said. That kinda made me mad, because ever since I met him, he's refused to call me anything but Susannah. And how many times have I told him I prefer Suze?
But, more often than not, it's Querida he calls me. And I prefer that above all else.
Dinner actually went pretty good. I only had to slap Paul once- he decided to grab my butt in the kitchen when I was refilling drinks, despite the fact that my fiancee was right there. He's lucky all he got was a slap.
"Ow, Suze! What the hell was that for?!"
"Don't. Touch. My. Ass." I said each word slowly and clearly, making sure he understood, and holding Jesse back a little.
"Oh, I forgot. Hormones'll kill you, De Silva." Paul said, still rubbing his cheek where I'd slapped him.
"Oh yeah, hormones killed Lindsey." I muttered under my breath. Paul's eyes shot up, and he said, "What did you say?"
Jesse took me out to his car before Paul could figure out what I'd said.
"Querida, you shouldn't have said that to him." Jesse said. We were packing books and clothes into boxes in his room. "Now, Slater will be watching you. You must be careful."
"I resent that." I said, playfully glaring at him. "I'm always careful." Jesse glared at me, clearly remembering the time my feet got messed up. And half a zillion other times when Paul did something to put me in danger. "Ok, Ok, so I'm almost always careful." I said with a laugh.
We finished packing, listening to Lost Prophets. I've gotten Jesse interested in most of the same music as me (he still won't listen to some stuff though) and we took over all his stuff. While we were gone, Andy had taken my day bed to the basement, and replaced that corner with a crib and changing table, left over from when the boys were babies, I suppose, because my baby furniture was in New York with my grandma.
"Wow, it looks great!!" I exclaimed, walking into my room. It was nice, having everything set up, when I wasn't even due for another, like, 7 months or something.
That night, Jesse and I fell asleep after several passionate kisses and several warnings to be careful at school. I promised I'd be way careful and fell asleep, cradled in Jesse's strong arms.
Jesse groaned slightly and got off of me. "No, it's fine." I said. "I'm Suze, the mediator. And you are?"
"Uh, I'm Lindsey." She said. She looked like a Lindsey. "And I'm here because I can't move on until I stop him."
"Ok. Stop who?" Jesse asked, now sitting next to me.
"Paul. Paul Slater." Lindsey whispered, looking around frantically, as if afraid that he would magically appear.
Why wasn't I surprised that something freaky had to do with him? Jesse scowled and then remarked, in his cute Spanish-laced voice, "What has that bastardo done now?"
"Well, he was my boyfriend." Lindsey said. Poor thing! "And the father of my child." She rubbed her stomach- I guessed she'd been about 6 months along when she'd died. "And my murderer."
"What?!" I exclaimed. Lindsey nodded. "But he's never been brought to justice. And I can't move on until he is."
Oh shit. I gasped, and must have looked horrified, because Jesse quickly pulled me into his arms. "Lindsey, I swear, we'll get him. Most definitely." I swore to her.
Lindsey smiled weakly and said, "Thanks. I'm going to motor, to let you guys...uh...get back to what you were doing." She blushed and then dematerialized.
I shook my head and said, "Wow. Knew he was evil, I just didn't realize the extent of the evilness. I wonder why he killed her in the first place?"
"I don't know, querida." Jesse said, pulling me close to him. "But I want you to stay far, FAR away from Slater. And tell Father Dom about Lindsey."
"I will." I said, nodding. "There's no way in hell I'd go near Paul now. Or ever, actually."
Jesse gave me a smile- the one that made my knees go weak- and pulling me in closer. "How about, after dinner, we go get your stuff from the rectory?" I said, tracing random patterns on his chest, over his shirt.
Jesse agreed, and we lay there, not really talking, just kind of staring at each other. Occasionally, Jesse would rub my stomach, or whisper a little bit of Spanish to me, and I'd go all jello-y for a few minutes.
"Dinner!" Andy yelled up the steps. I was actually feeling pretty starved, so I ran down the steps.
To be met with the most disgusting sight on the planet.
"Hey Suze, Jesse." Paul said cheerfully from the dining room.
I'm pretty sure that was what made me throw up. If it wasn't the sight of a murderer, then it would have been watching Brad, David, and Jake eat Fettuchini Alfredo. Either way, I raced into the downstairs bathroom, slammed the door, and vomited.
When I finally came out, I recieved sympathetic looks from everyone. "Pregnancy's a bitch, isn't it?" Paul whispered as I sat down in the only seat left- between him and Jesse.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" I hissed at him.
"Got an invite by Brad." I sent Brad the look of death, and he went red and sunk in his chair. "Trig tutoring before the final."
That's it. One dead stepbrother after dinner. I scooted as far away from Paul as I could, and ate my fettuchini. Mom kept fussing over me, announcing I had a doctor's appointment the next day that she would take me to, and then asked if we needed help moving things in after dinner.
"Oh, no, ma'am." Jesse's always formal like that, calling my mom ma'am and Andy sir. "It'll be a few boxes, but most of it stays at the rectory."
"Dear, dear, please, you're marrying my daughter, I think you can call me Rose." My mom said, brushing off the ma'am bit. "Or mom, or something less formal." Laughter twinkled in her eyes.
"Alright, if you prefer." Jesse said. That kinda made me mad, because ever since I met him, he's refused to call me anything but Susannah. And how many times have I told him I prefer Suze?
But, more often than not, it's Querida he calls me. And I prefer that above all else.
Dinner actually went pretty good. I only had to slap Paul once- he decided to grab my butt in the kitchen when I was refilling drinks, despite the fact that my fiancee was right there. He's lucky all he got was a slap.
"Ow, Suze! What the hell was that for?!"
"Don't. Touch. My. Ass." I said each word slowly and clearly, making sure he understood, and holding Jesse back a little.
"Oh, I forgot. Hormones'll kill you, De Silva." Paul said, still rubbing his cheek where I'd slapped him.
"Oh yeah, hormones killed Lindsey." I muttered under my breath. Paul's eyes shot up, and he said, "What did you say?"
Jesse took me out to his car before Paul could figure out what I'd said.
"Querida, you shouldn't have said that to him." Jesse said. We were packing books and clothes into boxes in his room. "Now, Slater will be watching you. You must be careful."
"I resent that." I said, playfully glaring at him. "I'm always careful." Jesse glared at me, clearly remembering the time my feet got messed up. And half a zillion other times when Paul did something to put me in danger. "Ok, Ok, so I'm almost always careful." I said with a laugh.
We finished packing, listening to Lost Prophets. I've gotten Jesse interested in most of the same music as me (he still won't listen to some stuff though) and we took over all his stuff. While we were gone, Andy had taken my day bed to the basement, and replaced that corner with a crib and changing table, left over from when the boys were babies, I suppose, because my baby furniture was in New York with my grandma.
"Wow, it looks great!!" I exclaimed, walking into my room. It was nice, having everything set up, when I wasn't even due for another, like, 7 months or something.
That night, Jesse and I fell asleep after several passionate kisses and several warnings to be careful at school. I promised I'd be way careful and fell asleep, cradled in Jesse's strong arms.