CH. 7
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow over the ancient oak tree that towered above them. Phoebe Spengler and her black lover, John, sat on a weathered picnic bench, deep in conversation. The air was thick with tension as they discussed their future as a duo in the ghostbusting world. Phoebe was adamant that they could do it without the help of her mom, Gary, Podcast, or anyone else. But John had a valid concern.
"How are we supposed to get to our desired busting locations?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism. "And where are we going to store these ghosts?"
Phoebe's brow furrowed. She knew they needed a car, but she had an idea. "We should move back to Summerville," she suggested, a glint of determination in her hazel eyes. "My grandfather's farm is there. We could set up shop there and use his old barn to store the ghosts."
John shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that," he said, his voice firm. "I can't live in a place without any McDonald's or Dunkin' Donuts." Phoebe felt her heart sink. She knew how much John loved his fast food. But she couldn't help but feel frustrated. She had a plan, and she was sure it would work. But how could she convince him?
She took a deep breath and tried a different approach. "Look, I understand that moving to Summerville means giving up some of the conveniences you're used to," she began. "But think about it: we'd have our own space, our own ghostbusting headquarters. And the farm is huge, with plenty of room for us to set up traps and store equipment." She paused, trying to read his expression. "We could even grow our own food."
John pursed his lips, considering her words. He glanced back up at the ancient oak tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. "It's not just the fast food," he said slowly. "It's just... this place. It's got everything I've ever known. My family, my friends. My life." He looked back at Phoebe, his eyes searching hers. "And I'm not sure I'm ready to leave all that behind."
Phoebe bit her lip, understanding the weight of his words. But she couldn't help but feel a spark of determination ignite within her. "I get that," she said, her voice steady. "But think about it: we could build a new life together, somewhere new. We could make Summerville our home. And who knows? Maybe we'll find new friends, new places we love just as much as the city." She smiled at him, hoping her conviction was enough to convince him. "What do you say?"
John looked at her, his eyes searching hers, before nodding slowly. "Alright," he said finally. "I'll... I'll think about it." Phoebe felt a surge of relief wash over her. It wasn't a full agreement, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe they could find a way to make both of their dreams work.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the old oak tree and the surrounding countryside into shadow, they stood up, gathering their belongings. Phoebe reached out and took John's hand, giving it a squeeze. "We'll figure this out together," she said, her voice filled with hope. "I promise."
In just a month, John gave it a good thought on what Phoebe suggested and agreed with the plan. Currently the two were at a neadby dealership looking at a car that they can buy together.
John nodded, his grip tightening around hers. "Yeah," he said, a smile creeping onto his face. "I guess we've been through worse, right?" He gestured to the Kia Soul they had chosen, its bumper sticker-covered exterior a testament to its previous owner's unique sense of humor. "Besides, it's not like we can't just pop back into the city if we need to."
In the next week they carefully loaded their gear into the back of the car, making sure not to wake the others that they will soon leave behind. Once everything was secure, John climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, the familiar purr of the Soul's exhaust filling the air. He glanced over at Phoebe, his face alight with anticipation.
"Here goes nothing," he said with a laugh, before pulling out of the streets of New York and onto the quiet country road. They drove in companionable silence for a while, the wind rushing past them as they wound their way through the darkness. Phoebe could feel the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders, replaced by a growing sense of excitement and possibility. Maybe this move wouldn't be so bad after all.
As they drove further and further away from the city, they passed through small towns and villages, each one more picturesque than the last. They saw old-fashioned general stores, town halls with whitewashed walls and quaint, gabled roofs, and even a few farmers markets still open for business. "Maybe we could stop at one of these places," Phoebe suggested, pointing to a particularly lively market. "Get some fresh produce for the kitchen."
John nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Sounds like a plan," he said, steering the car off the main road and into the market. They parked the Kia beside a row of brightly colored vegetable stands and climbed out, the heady scent of summer flowers and ripe fruits filling their nostrils.
As they wandered through the market, Phoebe couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. This place might just be the fresh start they needed. They stopped at a stand run by an elderly woman with a kind face and a knowing smile. "Evening, folks," she greeted them warmly. "What can I do you for tonight?"
John smiled back at her, feeling a sense of camaraderie that he hadn't experienced in the city. "We're just looking for some fresh fruits and vegetables," he said. "Things to cook up in our new kitchen." The old woman nodded, gesturing to a crate overflowing with bright red tomatoes, juicy green peppers, and fragrant herbs.
Phoebe picked up a handful of the tomatoes, their skin still slightly damp from the morning dew, and held them up to her nose. The scent was intoxicating, reminding her of summers spent at her grandmother's farm. "These look wonderful," she said, handing a few to John. "Do you think we should get some?"
He took the tomatoes from her, his fingers brushing against hers, and nodded. "They'll go great in a caprese salad," he suggested. "Or maybe we could make some homemade tomato soup." The old woman laughed, shaking her head at their enthusiasm.
"You young ones," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Always so full of life. It's good to see." She went on to help them select the rest of their items, offering advice on which vegetables were in season and how best to store them. As they finished up their shopping, Phoebe turned to John, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"You know," she said, "I've always wanted to try my hand at canning. There's this recipe for strawberry jam I've been meaning to try..."
John smiled, nodding in agreement. "That sounds perfect," he said. "We could make jars and labels, and give them out as gifts to our friends and family." The thought of sharing their homemade creations only intensified the sense of closeness they felt.
As they drove back to their new home, the Kia Soul's small size making it easy to navigate the winding roads, they chatted about their plans for the house. Phoebe had already sketched out ideas for painting the kitchen cabinets and replacing the curtains with more modern, stylish drapes. John, on the other hand, was more focused on turning the unfinished basement into a home theater, complete with a projector and a surround sound system.
The house came into view, its white-washed walls and green shutters seeming to glow in the setting sun. It was small, but it was theirs, and it felt like home. As they parked the car in the driveway, they couldn't help but exchange a knowing smile. They might have been a little nervous about starting this new chapter of their lives, but standing together outside their new home, they felt ready.
Together, they unloaded the car, carefully placing their purchases in the kitchen. The tomatoes were first, followed by the fragrant herbs and colorful peppers. Phoebe set about washing and prepping the vegetables while John began unpacking the rest of the groceries. The radio played softly in the background, filling the kitchen with the sounds of their new life together.
Eventually, their tasks completed, they stood side by side, surveying their work. "This all looks amazing," John said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I can't wait to try it all." He reached out to take her hand, his fingers interlacing with hers, and felt her squeeze back. There was a spark between them, a connection that went beyond words.
They didn't need to say anything; they both knew that this was the beginning of something truly special. As they stood there, lost in each other's eyes, they couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead. And as they finally found themselves alone together as husband and wife, they knew that they were stronger, braver, and more in love than ever before.