by Hazel Holmes
It made sense. Ezra had seen it many times in the kitchen. He’d dealt with his own fair share of fractured relationships once he was promoted to head chef. That kind of thing created pressure. But if there had been issues, wouldn’t Nathaniel have mentioned them?
“That’s too bad,” Ezra replied. He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know what to make of all of this. “It sounds like they were close for some time though, so if things did become fractured in the end, that must’ve been tough on all of them.
“Hopefully, they were able to put aside their differences before… well, before they weren’t here with us any longer. And I hope Nathaniel was able to find some peace in that.”
“Me too,” Sam said, though he looked skeptical. “Just keep everything in mind, okay? And be careful.”
Ezra wanted to shrug off everything Sam said. He liked Nathaniel, and it was unsettling to even consider that he might’ve brought someone dangerous into their lives. But could he truly say he knew the situation better than Sam did? Of course not. Sam had lived here probably for his whole life. It sounded like he had known Lyla, Richard, Billy, and Nathaniel for quite some time. Ezra had just met him.
He wouldn’t write Nathaniel off quite yet. Not based off this alone. He still didn’t know the full story of everything that had happened, and he wasn’t about to get heated at him over some rumor. But he couldn’t just ignore it either.
Nathaniel himself had admitted that he wanted to buy the property, and it made sense he’d be bitter about it. If there was tension between the two families, it also made sense that Sam and Brittany would know about it. It all made too much sense.
“I will be,” Ezra said. And he would be more careful from here on out. He vowed to uncover Nathaniel’s true intentions before his ignorance could get him into real trouble.
24
Clara wasn’t sure if she should be relieved to see that Ezra was already awake and out of bed or concerned. Did that mean he was feeling better and more energized? Or did it mean he had another night of restless sleep? She hadn’t woken due to his tossing and turning, but she wasn’t sure if that was because he slept peacefully or if it was because she was so tired, she couldn’t be woken.
She did know that stressing so extensively over her husband was going to damage her own mental health, and they couldn’t afford for both of them to be struggling. So, she tried to relax as she lay tucked between their cozy comforter and silk sheets. The sun was peeking from behind the lace curtains, promising a snow-free day. A few shadows had broken in, and after a couple of deep breaths, she dragged herself out of bed at their urging.
She went straight for the shower to wash some of the stress away. The bathroom mirror was still somewhat foggy, and the bathmat lay on the floor. It was a sign Ezra must’ve already taken a shower recently. She wondered just how long he’d been up and hoped he wasn’t downstairs waiting for her.
She thought of holding off on the shower so she could say good morning to him first, but that warm water was too soothing to resist. She slipped under the shower head and let the heat smooth away the rough edges.
The move here had been a lot. Inheriting all that money, buying the bed and breakfast, their lives changing complexly; it had all been a lot and Clara didn’t realize how much it’d been weighing on her mind until some of the weight lifted. She was trying to hold everything up, trying to keep it from touching Ezra so he wouldn’t have to struggle any more than he already was. She was so worried about him, but she realized she needed to let go a little.
Ezra was going to be okay. He was going to get the help he needed, they were going to fix up the bed and breakfast, and they were going to live out their dreams. They already were. They were making friends already, they had the kind of money they never thought they’d have, they owned a great property. She couldn’t really complain.
Picking out the new design of the bed and breakfast had reminded Clara of her vision, and she had fallen back in love with it. This was more than she could’ve imagined. It was far better than working for some big company. They could do this.
Clara took a deep breath and let go of the worries that had accumulated in the dusty corners of her mind. They were going to have a better day; she was determined to make sure of it. This was their fresh start. There was no reason to be so stressed.
Her hope was further fueled by the music she heard as she stepped out of the shower. Ezra listened to music when he was most happy, certainly a good sign. She hadn’t heard him listen to music much since his father died.
Yet as she wrapped the towel around her, a bit of concern tugged at her ankle as she realized what song he was listening to; Gloomy Sunday sung by Billie Holiday, otherwise known as the Hungarian suicide song. The song had been linked to over one hundred suicides, including the death of the composer himself. It was a random tidbit Clara had picked up while reading one day, and she had told Ezra about it. It was an intriguing song but an odd choice for a fresh start.
She got ready a little quicker. She didn’t plan on confronting Ezra about his choice of music. She did intend to change it though. She’d use the fact he was listening to music to her advantage by switching it to something a little more upbeat. She hoped she could redirect the energy of the day that way.
As she went to open the bathroom door though, she paused. The song had ended and was now playing again. That meant it had to be on repeat. Considering Ezra’s state of mind lately, the fact that he would choose this song to have on repeat…
Tension returned to Clara once more. She reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. It could only lead to unnecessary stress. She didn’t know why Ezra would choose to listen to this song repeatedly, but it didn’t necessarily mean something was off. It was a beautiful song, despite its dark history and lyrics. Perhaps that’s why he was listening to it. It did fit the rather poetic atmosphere of the house.
Clara took a deep breath, so she didn’t panic and attack Ezra. She wanted to be as empathic and understanding as possible when dealing with this. She didn’t want to make anything worse.
Once she felt she had her nerves under control, she opened the door and walked into their bedroom. She was slightly surprised that Ezra wasn’t in their room, even though that’s where the music was coming from. She figured he must’ve started it, then went off to do something else for the moment.
She glanced towards the sound. Another surprise; the music was coming from her phone, not his. It’s not like they were overly protective of their phones. They knew each other’s passwords and didn’t care if the other used theirs. But they typically stuck to using their own phones, like most people did. Whenever Ezra wanted to listen to music, he listened to it on his phone that had all his favorite songs already downloaded on it.
“Ezra?” Clara called out. “Did you lose your phone or something?”
Ezra didn’t respond as Clara walked to her phone. She paused the song. The house reverted to silence. There was no indication that anyone else was in the house, but it was a rather big house. Clara attributed it to Ezra being farther away, but if that were the case, why did he leave the music playing in their room?
“Ezra?” she called out again. “Where are you?”
As she walked to the door, still wrapped in a towel, her gaze fell to the bed. A black dress had been laid out for her. It was the dress she’d worn to Ezra’s father’s funeral.
“Ezra, this isn’t funny!” she said, her voice shrill and angry.
She was tired of his game. He had frightened her when he started talking about ghosts and seeing his dead father. She’d been so worried about his mental health. Yet it was starting to look like some kind of elaborate prank, a way to spook her in this house that was supposedly haunted.
Sure, they had tricked each other before, but this was going too far. She was genuinely concerned about his state of mind, so if he had been lying about it this whole time… that was just awful to think about. It didn’t seem like him to joke about something l
ike that.
It wasn’t like him, and that was what got to Clara most. It wasn’t like Ezra to joke about something that would lead to him calling a doctor. He was fun, but he also knew when to be serious. He’d know this wasn’t the way to make her laugh. It wouldn’t be a fun scare.
Had his father’s death impacted him so greatly that he was now lacking his better judgement? Or was there something more to this? There couldn’t be though, right? Clara couldn’t think of another explanation.
Determined to get to the bottom of this, Clara walked out of the room still wrapped in her towel. “Ezra!” she called out. “This isn’t funny. Where are you?”
The house was silent aside from her voice though. Her anger grew as she tried to find him. They were adults. This game of hide and seek was ridiculous and she was so tired of indulging his stupid games. Clara and her husband rarely fought, though they had of course gotten into a few arguments during their time together.
Nothing like this though. Once she found him, she was going to tell him exactly how much this was all getting to her. There had to be changes. She didn’t want to keep doing this. She wouldn’t keep doing this.
“Ezra!” She walked downstairs, into the kitchen where he usually was at this time of the morning. Nothing but dirty dishes in the sink. He’d clearly been up and eating breakfast, but he wasn’t there any longer. She shook her head, stumped.
Was he in a room and unable to hear her? Was he hiding like a child? If he were hiding, he was going to get an earful. This was ridiculous. She didn’t want to have to search for her adult husband.
“Ezra!” she bellowed.
The front door opened. “What?” Ezra asked as he came in carrying a coffee cup in one hand and a paper bag in the other. They looked at each other, bewildered.
25
Ezra shut the door behind him and faced his wife, trying to make sense of the confused and irritated look on her face.
Clara didn’t know what to think as she stared at her husband, a tornado of emotions swirling in her mind. Ezra had to have been in the house. He had to have turned on the music and laid her dress out. It was so ominous too, that song paired with the dress she wore to his father’s memorial. Considering everything that had been going on lately, she felt she had every reason to be angry about it.
Yet, she didn’t lash out at him with the full force of her anger because there he was, a cup of coffee and a paper bag in hand. She didn’t think she’d been in the shower for that long. So, how had Ezra put on the music, laid out the dress, and managed to go to the coffee shop all while she was in the bathroom?
“Where were you?” Clara asked, her tone more accusing than she meant it to be. Though Ezra knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, he immediately felt like he had.
“I went to a local coffee shop,” he replied. “I’m sorry I left without telling you. I meant to only go for a walk while you were sleeping, but then Sam saw me and invited me out for coffee. I thought it’d be good to build a better relationship with him, you know? We’ve talked about how it’d be good to connect to other business owners in the area. We want to connect to other people in the area in general. So, I agreed to go with him.”
Clara looked at him, dumbstruck. She was unaware of how to respond. Her mind just couldn’t make sense of this. He had to have been in the house, and she would’ve accused him of lying, but he had proof in his hands.
“Did you come in before this?” she asked, as a possible explanation formed as her mind tried desperately to make sense of everything.
“What do you mean?” Ezra asked, more than slightly confused.
“Like did you come into the house, then realize you forgot the bag in your car, and then go back out to get it or something?”
“No…” he responded slowly, confused as to why she’d even ask that. “I didn’t even take my car. Sam picked me up while I was walking. We took his car. He just barely dropped me off back home and I came straight inside. Didn’t want your coffee to get cold. Why do you ask?"
Clara was growing more confused by the second. It simply didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want to accuse her husband of something she didn’t have proof of. But she did have proof, didn’t she? Her dress was on the bed, the music was playing when she got out of the shower. There was no denying it.
Perhaps he had done it before he left. But she didn’t think he had enough time to do so while she was in the shower. If Ezra hadn’t done it though, who had?
She didn’t know what to say. She always told her husband everything, but lately that was more difficult. She knew how he’d respond, and she didn’t want to mess with his mental health like that. But she too was starting to think that something was going on in this house. Things simply weren’t adding up and it was spooky. It put Clara on edge.
She quickly debated if she should tell Ezra what had happened. It was getting to the point where she felt like she had no other choice, but she wasn’t sure it was fully there yet. She had to make sure there was no other explanation before she brought it up to him. She needed time to figure this out.
The music turning on wasn’t totally impossible anyway. Weird stuff had happened with her phone before this. Electronics were just glitchy sometimes. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she’d been listening to music the day before and it somehow turned on again, resumed playing or something, got stuck on repeat.
The explanation wasn’t exactly satisfactory for her, but it was something. It was a solid reason not to worry her husband. The dress on the other hand… That didn’t readily lend a believable explanation. The dress couldn’t have just blown out of the closet and landed on her bed.
“No reason,” she said. Despite the lack of reasoning she could find, she wanted to give it more time. She wanted any reason not to worry her husband. “Thought I heard something is all. But it’s just the house being an old house.”
Ezra nodded as he grew a little suspicious. He didn’t know the extent of what his wife was hiding, but he was aware that she was probably downplaying it a little to avoid setting him off about the ghosts.
Resentment crept in a little. He didn’t want her to think she had to be so careful around him. He wasn’t that fragile, and he was doing better. But he also didn’t want to overreact, so he nudged those feelings under the rug.
“Well, I got you a latte from the most amazing coffee shop,” he said, offering her the bag. “There’s a coffee cake muffin and fruit salad in there as well.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” she said, feeling a bit guilty over her lie. She convinced herself it wasn’t a lie though. She simply wasn’t divulging the whole story for his own good. That couldn’t be so bad.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll come downstairs to enjoy it.” She turned to go upstairs, then paused. “Maybe I should take the coffee with me though. So it doesn’t get cold.”
Ezra handed the cup to her. Clara held onto that last shot at an explanation that made sense. If the coffee was cold, she could call Ezra out on it. It’d prove that he had gone to the coffee shop earlier that morning, messed with her things, and came through the door like this so he could spook her. Maybe he had done so to convince her that ghosts really were in this house, and he didn’t need to get help after all because he wasn’t imagining it.
She sipped the coffee. It was still warm. It wasn’t the type of scalding hot that coffee was when you first ordered it. Nor did it have that distinct taste Clara was familiar with when reheating coffee in the microwave.
It was the type of temperature and smooth taste of a coffee that had been purchased about ten minutes or so ago. The perfect time to drink it. It was delicious, an incredible blend of dark chocolate, creamy caramel, and a sweet cream that hadn’t been ruined by sitting untouched in the cup too long. It was fresh. It was perfect. It was probably the best coffee she ever had, but she was disappointed.
Ezra was telling the truth. He had just come in from the coffee shop. So how did the dress get on the bed? How
did the music start playing?
Clara took her coffee upstairs. The dress was still on the bed. She was still confused. She desperately wished she could make sense of all of this, but she was starting to lose hope that there would be any easy answers.
26
As Clara went upstairs, Ezra contemplated his own omission of information. He too had reason not to share what Sam had told him over breakfast. Though he knew he should, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It couldn’t be too bad to keep it from her if Clara was keeping something from him, right? He wouldn’t be lying to her, and it wasn’t something that was super important for her to know.
Ezra knew now he had every reason to be suspicious of Nathaniel. There were a few possible cracks in his story and Nathaniel did have reason for wanting to deceive him. But he was still fond of the kid, and he still wanted to give him some time before accusing him of something he didn’t have proof of.
He didn’t think Sam was trying to be malicious with warning him about Nathaniel. If Ezra were in his shoes, he thought he might do the same thing. It was nice of him to warn him of possible trouble, and he didn’t think it was idle gossip. But Sam hadn’t told him anything concrete that would suggest Nathaniel had ulterior motives for accepting the job offer. He hadn’t shared anything more than rumors, and that wasn’t enough to confront Nathaniel over.
Clara was already suspicious of him though. It seemed like she had been from the start, and she still hadn’t gotten to know Nathaniel like Ezra had. She couldn’t see what a genuine person he seemed like. So, she might be likely to take what Sam said seriously. Too seriously. Ezra worried it’d color her perception of their new employee, and he didn’t want to stack the deck so far out of Nathaniel’s favor.