The Only Exception
Death is a friend of ours; and he that is not ready to entertain him is not at home. - Sir Francis Bacon
Whack!
"Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse!"
His head spun violently and he had to reach up with his hands to stop it. After a brief feeling of intense vertigo, he realized what had just happened. She'd slapped him and sent him back. He was standing back in front of the mirror he'd so carefully smuggled into his place long ago.
He exhaled loudly, even though he didn't need to. "Fuck."
Line Break!
"Oh my gods," she moaned, fingers gently coming up to touch her assaulted lips. "He kissed me. That lech! How dare he?"
He'd been awfully touchy with her, she had to admit; especially when she'd let him cozy up last night in her drunken haze. But this was different. No lewd comment, no waggling eyebrows, no showmanship. It came out of, literally, nowhere.
Autumn stood outside a while longer, still clad only in her jeans and cardigan. The snow began swirling even more wildly around her and her toes were threatening to give in to frostbite. But she couldn't go back in. He could watch her there, and she didn't want him to see her thought process playing out across her face.
She felt disgusted with herself. Yes, it was unwanted and received no consent whatsoever. But it wasn't...bad. She thought for sure he'd have horrible breath, being dead and all. He certainly looked filthy. But all she'd tasted were cigarettes. Whiskey maybe. Was there a hint of damp forest there too...perhaps?
Oh hell! She threw her hands up in exasperation. It didn't matter what that kiss "tasted" like, it was unwanted and therefore awful. Images of more than kissing briefly flashed through her mind and she growled out loud. "Knock it off," she told herself. "What about Craig?"
Craig...she stopped short. She hadn't even called him since stopping up there in Winter River. Granted, it had only been a few days but now she felt really guilty about it. Autumn told herself she'd go in the house and give him a call, to check in and see how he was doing all alone in the city now. Any minute now.
Who was she kidding? Craig was a great guy really, but she also knew that on some very important subconscious level that he didn't understand her. He admired her writing and pushed her to keep at it, so he was a great motivator. But he just didn't get her. Craig wanted marriage and kids, the family package. He wanted to settle down eventually and do the whole "normal" thing.
And that, just wasn't her. Autumn didn't care much for those things, she'd always considered herself a free spirit. Besides, she was only twenty-four and in no position to want to settle down. She was young and had a lot of living to do.
If she was perfectly honest with herself, she was relieved to get away from him for a while. The cuddling and date nights were great, for sure. But she valued her freedom and personal space too much to really give Craig the attention she knew he wanted and probably deserved.
And then there was...him. He was something new, intoxicating, exotic, and fresh. Maybe exactly what she needed, not just as a muse. But as a confidante or friend, even. Sure, he was crude, perverted, snarky, and arrogant to a fault. But he didn't seem nearly as bad as Lydia had made him out to be.
Lydia. Oh, well that complicated matters, didn't it? How would her crazy cousin handle all of this? It certainly wasn't something she could just casually bring up the next time Lyds called her. "Oh hey, so your former fiance totally kissed me today. You're cool with that, right?" No, not happening.
A small part of Autumn wondered if Lydia didn't hold some remnant of feeling for the poltergeist. She'd certainly talked about him often enough in Autumn's youth. And it was never with complete vehemence, there had definitely been a wistfulness there in her voice. Autumn had just been too young to notice it back then.
A small smile tugged at her lips. Well, if she was looking for a good story, she'd definitely found it.
The diner was strangely empty when Autumn set foot inside, shutting the swirling white flakes out behind her. She took a seat in her usual booth and waited around for Susan. It took a few moments before the woman shuffled out of the kitchen, looking anxious.
"Good morning, dear," she greeted amiably, but something was definitely on her mind.
"Good morning, Susan," Autumn greeted in return. "Are you alright? You look kind of upset."
"We had a crazy night in here," she admitted. "I'm not even sure I saw what I think I saw."
Autumn's eyes narrowed in suspicion, she hadn't even thought about what Betelgeuse might have gotten up to while she'd passed out on the couch. "So what did you see?"
Susan sighed and leaned in conspiratorially, "Some strange man came in here last night and spooked those rowdy teenagers out. At least, I think he was a man. I've never seen anything like it."
Now she was sure. Betelgeuse had invaded her sanctuary and he was going to pay. But Susan was still talking and so she tuned back in.
"But in the end, he paid for his coffee and the mess the kids left behind. Whatever he was, he sure saved me the trouble of having to chase them out myself. I wasn't looking forward to it."
"That's definitely odd," Autumn nodded in agreement. "But I don't want to think any more on it until I've had some coffee and a danish."
Susan grinned. "Coming right up, dear. I must say, you're becoming quite the regular in here."
That comment warmed Autumn all the way to her toes. "I suppose so." She leaned back in her booth and watched the snow whirl madly outside. The wind had picked up on her way into town and now it was blowing with a ferocity to match a hurricane. Still, Autumn didn't mind venturing out into it, winter was her favorite time of year. A quiet time for stillness and reflection, for thought. And as a harried writer, nothing could be appreciated more.
And, unfortunately for her, that quiet did not last long.
"Well, hello! Fancy seeing you in here!"
She didn't even have to look up to know who it was that had invaded on her peaceful moment. Nonetheless, she looked up with a smile plastered to her face.
"Ms. Butterfield," she gritted. "How nice to see you again."
The perky woman slid into the booth across from Autumn and signaled for Susan, who was approaching with Autumn's coffee. "I was hoping to run into you again, actually. How is the writing?"
"It's going fine," she responded noncommittally. "And how are you?"
"Just dandy, dear," Karen smiled. "Have you talked to your uncle yet?"
"Why?"
The real estate agent's eyes became guarded suddenly. "Oh, I was just wondering if perhaps he mentioned anything about the house."
Autumn took on an equally guarded expression. "No, he merely called to see if I was enjoying the peace and quiet. Which I was."
Karen smiled more brightly again. "Of course. Winter River is a very peaceful place, especially for families."
"I suppose it is," Autumn hedged, taking a sip of her coffee and deciding it needed more cream. She tinkered with the dish of cream before casually selecting one and pouring it into her off-white coffee mug. She watched the white liquid swirl around the black java and gradually fade into an unappetizing brown color.
"Do you have a man staying with you?" Karen asked suddenly. Autumn looked up sharply, and stopped stirring her coffee. Instead she deliberately picked up her blueberry danish and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.
"Not that it matters if I do, but no," she answered. "Why do you ask?"
Karen averted her eyes for a moment and lowered her voice. "Oh it was just that someone saw a bizarre looking man heading up your way early this morning. If he's not with you, perhaps you should alert the police and have them keep an eye out. It won't do to have any unsavory types meandering around town at night."
"I agree with you completely," Autumn deadpanned. "I'll keep my eyes open and if I happen to spot this weirdo I'll sound the alarm."
Karen's relief was comically palpable. "Good. I wouldn't want some pervert taking advantage of you, either, being new to town."
"Of course not." Autumn shoved the last bite of her danish into her mouth and washed it down with her now cold coffee. She dug around in her purse for some cash and set it on the table. "Your coffee's on me, but I really need to be going. I'm expecting a phone call sometime today."
"Oh, of course dear!" the real estate agent chirped. "Have a wonderful day."
"Likewise," Autumn mumbled as she buttoned up her coat and pushed her way out the diner. The wind was still furiously howling and she had to push long strands of hair out of her face to see where she was going. The cold bit at her cheeks and ears, but she pressed on.
This kind of cold was far more tolerable than having breakfast with that obnoxious woman.
The phone was ringing when she finally got through the front door, huffing from her jaunt up the hill and trying to rub some feeling back into her frozen ears. She kicked her boots off and made straight for the cell sitting on the couch.
"Hello?"
When ensued was an hour long conversation with her agent who wasn't entirely keen on her new story approach. Hasn't it been done before? He'd argued. Nobody wanted to read about small town waitresses unless there was some kind of murder or mystery involved. And even that was a tired cliché.
She'd argued back just as vehemently that this was something different and she was taking a supernatural approach in her novel. And no, it wasn't vampires, sorcerers, or werewolves. He'd just have to wait and read the sample chapters once she got them sorted out.
After that dramatic conversation and her harrowing encounter with the real estate agent from sunny-side hell, Autumn collapsed onto the couch and let out a sigh. Now, where was the current bane of her existence...?
Babes?
Ah, there he was.
"Shut up, I don't want to talk to you right now."
Come on, let me out. I'll even apologize.
"Really?"
He was quiet. Gotcha. But she knew she'd give in, just to not have to sit in the house all by herself again and watch old black and white movies until the wee hours of the morning. She the name slipped past her lips in a trio and he zapped himself onto the chair next to the couch.
"Rough day," the smirk playing around his lips made her want to hit him. Again. "What d'you say we get hammered again?" And with that he pulled a bottle of cheap wine out of thin air.
"And have a repeat performance of last night?" she snapped. "No thank you."
He scowled. "You're too uptight, you know that? 'No Distractions'...what a load."
She sat up and glared at him. "I came up here to work. Not fraternize with my cousin's spectral enemy, not fend off crazy gingers, and certainly not to hear about some Stephen King shit going down at my one and only sanctuary in this hellhole!"
He looked a bit taken aback. "So you heard about that, huh?"
"It's a small town, fool. People talk."
"Touche."
She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. "I'm trying so hard these days but I can't even bring myself to sit down and write something worthy of a printing press. I'm off my game, you know? And despite it all, you're really not helping matters."
"And here I thought I was an exceptional muse!" He puffed his chest out and smoothed down his jacket, tossing her a grin. But she was still moping.
She didn't see him advancing until it was too late and his shadow engulfed her. She looked up in time for him to slam her into the back of the couch. "I'll give ya something to write about," he leered down at her. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Autumn could only watch in some sort of sick fascination as he leaned down and his cool breath fanned across her face.
Cigarettes. Booze. Decaying leaves. She hadn't been imagining that earlier, had she?
He was going to kiss her again. They both knew it and for some reason she didn't feel like stopping it. Was it that curiosity thing rearing it's ugly head again? Was it the thrill of new and exciting territory about to be crossed? It certainly wasn't just about the story...
In the end, neither of them would find out. The front door crashed open and a joking voice called out, "I'm home!" Both of them froze and turned their heads to the foyer, where a bewildered looking Lydia stood, duffel bag in hand.
It took her all of three seconds to sum up the situation and scream Betelgeuse's name at the top of her lungs three times fast. He popped out of the room with an audible snarl just in time for Craig to bumbled in behind Lydia with a puzzled expression.
Autumn pulled herself together with amazing haste. She stood and smoothed out her cardigan, plastering a cheesy grin on her face.
"Hi!"