Specter~Chapter 17
Emma and Quinn finished staging the last two rooms the week before her internship was to end. They spent those few days going over the database a few more times, fixing errors, tweaking it. Quinn had one more weekend to spend at the estate, then Emma would be driving her back to the airport on September 2. On her last Friday there, Will prepared a feast for them and they had dinner in the dining room by candlelight. He made filet mignon, grilled asparagus, herbed red potatoes, and fresh bread. Emma had made a cheesecake for the occasion. Quinn stirred up a batch of mojitos.
Once seated, Emma raised her glass. "To an absolutely wonderful assistant this summer. I couldn't have dreamed of anyone more perfect for this work."
Quinn blushed, thanked her, and sipped her drink. "I've thoroughly enjoyed my time here."
"The estate has seemed..." Will began, pausing to find the words. "So full of life since you've been here, Quinn."
"I've learned so much more than I ever anticipated," Quinn said. "The steak is divine, William!"
"We definitely got a lot of work done; I couldn't have done it without you, Quinn," Emma said sweetly, glancing up at her.
"I just hope it brings closure to any family members of the people who were fortunate enough to live here with Mr. Abrams," Quinn said.
Quinn tried to keep her mind off Sam and the fact she was leaving soon. It was almost too much to handle, so she pushed it out of her mind until it poked back in, usually when she'd feel a cool rush against her skin. She had noticed that even when he got close to her, not touching her, the fine hairs on her body would stand on end in his presence. It was a magical feeling for her, electrical, one she didn't want to lose. And Saturday she was meeting him in the church meadow.
After supper and clean up and saying goodbye to Will, Quinn retreated to the Abrams suite and began packing her belongings.
"Tonight, Samuel, I want you to think...think about how we are going to make this work after I leave here. When we meet in the meadow, I want you to tell me how you feel..."
He sat on the edge of the bed listening to her. He wasn't sure what to tell her. He had not become transparent to her-yet-and he could always follow her back to her college, but, like she had said before, there'd be no marriage or children, just her talking to seemingly empty space. He loved her, though, completely and unabashedly and wanted to figure out a way for them to be together.
"I'll think too...there has to be a way to make this work, Sam...I don't want to go back to my life as it was, without you," she said to him.
He stood up and crossed the room to her. She felt his presence near her and looked up. He took her face in her hands and kissed her gently, bringing him to life before her eyes.
"I love you and always have...I need no time to think about that," he whispered against her lips. "I'll be with you, near you, forever, Quinn. I promise you that."
Her eyes welled with tears. "I love you, too, Samuel Evans...will you wait for me?"
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the tears fall down her cheeks. "Of course I will..."
She sighed against his mouth. "Stay with me tonight?"
He nodded and broke from the kiss. She watched his apparition dissolve, amazed at how he could be lifelike in her arms and kissing her but disappeared into thin air once they were apart. He watched her as he faded, the sadness in her eyes almost too much to bear.
She finished packing most of her stuff, then took her camera down the hall to the rooms they had staged. She snapped shots of Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine's rooms, then turned her camera to the cozy L-shaped room that had been Lucinda's. She stood in the center of the room, looking around it. She then took pictures from every angle she could think of. With one final look, she sighed and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
xxxxx
On Saturday, she decided to walk to town to find the meadow that meant so much to her and Sam. She put on a white sundress covered in tiny flowers of every color and wore dressy yet comfy sandals and her white straw hat to shade the sun. She packed some bottled water and her camera in her backpack and set off around 11, whistling and humming an unknown tune as she strolled down the estate's canopied lane to the main road to town. Sam floated alongside her, smiling, though unseen.
The day was a beautiful Maine end-of-summer day. It was the perfect temperature, nary a cloud in the endless blue sky. There was a slight breeze stirring the hundreds of thousands of leaves that surrounded her on her walk, and, as usual, the birds chirping and singing kept her company.
She had Sam's directions memorized at this point and made it to the center of Battenfied in record time. In a vague sense, she had an idea where the meadow was located, but that memory was fuzzy and out of focus, thus the directions. She passed Carter Street, then Wilson Avenue, then was at Harrison Street. She turned left and walked until she found Parson Briggs Lane, about a mile, not much more than an alley really. The street sign even looked original, not shiny and new like the ones in the town proper. She turned right and began walking down the lane. It was tree-lined, no houses, seemingly a dead-end. The lane dipped down and then curved a bit to the left as she approached what she felt was the end. As she followed the curve to her left, the old church suddenly stood tall before her.
She stopped, sucking in her breath. She knew this church. She had been at this church at least a hundred times with Sam before his demise. This was the church she planned on being married at. It was a simple white clapboard building, showing its wear of the years. The original sign was still in place, white and painted in fading black letters, The Battenfield Methodist Church, est. 1832. A memory flooded her mind…herself a young girl at this church, holding hands with a young blonde-haired boy, smiling. They had met here, at this church, and their young love had blossomed during meetings and sermons and picnics over the years. Of course, she saw him at school, as well, but school was all business…at church, church was social for them. It was where she learned that he loved to stare up at the stars at night, even though his father called that rubbish. He learned that she loved to have memories of special happenings in her life, how one evening while walking her home she said she wished she could take a picture of the sunset with her mind, it was so beautiful. They both loved their younger siblings and played games with them often. She learned that he loved to tug on her braid, to let her know he was thinking of her. They shared their one and only dance at this church, Christmas 1851. Together, they had attended weddings, baptisms, and funerals of their friends and church family here. They had sat with their families, the Fabbraes on the right, second pew, and the Evans on the left, fourth pew, and prayed fervently for whatever they were told to pray for. Their secret prayers nearly came to fruition on one warm summer evening in 1852, in the meadow behind the church. This church was where he first called her Lucindy.
Quinn didn't know how long she had been standing there…forever, it seemed. Thinking, all the memories and thoughts making her head spin. She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, then started for the meadow behind the church building, looking for the largest oak tree.
It wasn't hard to miss it. It appeared to have been standing there for thousands of years. She walked to the tree and lay her hands on it, then turned to look at the church.
The bonfire was raging that night, she recalled, looking at the deadened area on the ground where lots of bonfires had happened.
"Sam…" she breathed. "Samuel, it's beautiful here. I wanted to marry you here."
He ran a hand down her arm, causing her to shiver. She turned and faced the meadow.
It was a large grassy meadow with wildflowers, surrounded by woods. She counted her paces, north of the oak tree…
…47, 48, 49…50. She stopped and turned in a full circle, taking in this sacred spot of hers and Sam's. She sat down, cross-legged.
"I loved you so much that day…" she began. "I would've let it happen, you know…but…"
He touched her hands. He knew.
"Tell me…how is that I can feel you? How can I know you're there? How is this happening?" she asked. He stared into her hazel-green eyes, then leaned forward and kissed her.
"We have a connection, Quinn," he said simply.
"Is there a heaven?" she asked. He nodded, still kissing her.
"Why are you on Earth then?"
Not thinking, his mind clouded by the heat building between them, he said, "Assuming you go to heaven when you die, you can either stay there or come back to Earth as a spirit."
She kept kissing him, grasping his shoulders and bringing him down on top of her, holding their bodies close together.
Assuming you go to heaven when you die…
…you go to heaven when you die…
…when you die…
She knew what she had to do.
xxxxx
She made love to him in the meadow. They were completely alone and it was right. She had made a decision and she needed this union between them to be able to carry it out.
It happened much like their time in 1852. His hand roamed up her thigh, he rubbed against her. This time, though, she slipped her panties off and unfastened his pants and let him take her amongst all the wildflowers. He kissed her hungrily through it, moaning and grunting, whispering her name when he climaxed…his lips never leaving hers.
"Quinn…oh my god Quinn…" he mumbled, rocking against her. "I can't…"
He didn't finish his statement.
"What Sam?" she asked quietly.
He opened his eyes and stared directly into hers. "I can't live without you."
She smiled a little against his lips, not breaking contact. "You'll always love me, no matter what, right?"
"Yes…always…"
"I know what I'm going to do…" she said and told him of her plan.
xxxxx
After she told him her idea, he broke their kiss and disappeared from her sight. She was confused. It was the perfect plan. She knew it'd make him nervous, though, but she had to tell him about it.
He pulled away from her, shaking at the thought of what she wanted to do. He had to try to talk her out of it but how?
She sat up and reached out in front of her to feel for his coolness. He gazed at her as she felt his coolness and smiled in response. He wondered when it would begin to happen…losing his connection with her.
"You should've never said anything about heaven, Sam," a voice said from behind him. Sam turned to see Finn staring at him sadly. "Now she knows."
Sam turned back to see Quinn, still sitting among the flowers in the meadow, confused. Hesitantly, he reached out to her cheek, to stroke her lovingly, and she smiled.
"Maybe I have some time before it starts happening…" Sam said, a bit forlornly.
"Wait...were you here the entire time?" Sam asked Finn, suddenly taken back at what Finn might have witnessed.
Finn had an equally shocked expression on his face. "No! I know when to back off, Sam!"
They both looked at Quinn, sitting among the flowers and still smiling.
"What is she gonna do?" Finn asked him.
"Something mad, I think," Sam muttered.
xxxxx
Quinn sat in the meadow for a bit after Sam had disappeared. She straightened the skirt of her dress, put her hat back on, and pulled a bottle of water from her backpack. She sat there in the quietness and contemplated her plan and how she would need to put it in motion. Judging by Sam's reaction, he wasn't too thrilled with her idea, but she knew he'd come around. It made all the sense in the world. She was so glad she had asked him about heaven and how he was on Earth.
After drinking her water, she pulled her camera from the backpack and took pictures of the meadow and church. She had been totally uninterrupted the entire time she was there. It was probably the most peaceful place she'd ever known.
The heat was building, though, and she had a long walk back to the estate. She packed up her camera and water bottle and set off toward town. She decided to stop at the Battenfield Inn cafe for lunch. She sat at what she now referred to as 'her table', a table outside on the patio so she could people watch, and ordered a bagel sandwich and her usual Lizzy Dean beverage. As she nibbled on the bagel piled high with cream cheese, avocado, and tomato and watched the world go by, she thought about her plan and the repercussions it might cause. There were letters to write, not easy letters she was sure, but nonetheless they must be written. She would definitely contact Santana and her mother, maybe even Noah.
A TV was on inside the establishment and constant reports kept blaring into her thoughts...Hurricane Bea is moving up along Maine's coast within the next 24 hours! Batten down your hatches! Strong winds 100+ miles per hour! Heavy flooding rains!
Wait...a hurricane? Hitting Maine's coast? she thought, then smiled. Ol' Bea was always a ball of energy! She sipped the rest of her drink, finished her sandwich, listened to the news reports of damage further down the coast, and made plans in her mind, which, she felt, were going to go much easier with this hurricane coming in. She paid for her lunch, hugged her favorite waitress goodbye, picked up her backpack, and headed for the Abrams estate.