Beaconfield

by Bri R. Leclerc

  “Hey,” a raspy voice said.

  My pulse jumped, and I looked at Ridge to find him smiling at me. At least Beaconfield hadn’t taken away his smile. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, trying not to cry.

  “All because of you, Mars,” he said back.

  “I’m going to go get something to eat. You two need to catch up,” Shay said from the corner as she gathered her things.

  We both watched her go. Once it was just the two of us, Ridge’s warm lips brushed my cheek.

  I closed my eyes and smiled, leaning into it. “What’s that for?” I asked, a blush creeping up my neck.

  “For being amazing and for not being a dream,” he said slowly. He looked me all over, as if he was trying to remember everything about me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I woke up, I thought that everything had been a long and terrifying nightmare. I didn’t think that I’d ever see you again. But I would’ve taken a nightmare with you over nothing.” He smiled sweetly.

  I couldn’t take it anymore—I lunged across the bed and kissed him hard. After a moment of shock, he kissed me back. He placed a large hand on my lower back, making my body warm. I grabbed his face between my hands and held him there for a moment longer.

  “I’ve thought about this for years, Mars.” He kissed me again, softly.

  I caught his bright blue eyes, but from this close I could see flecks of brown in the center.

  “Me too.” I smiled down at him and stroked his cheek, realizing that I was telling the truth. I’d always thought about him and where life had taken him. I never thought a haunted town would bring us back together. I glanced up at the bandage wrapped around his forehead. “Does it hurt?”

  “Well, it doesn’t feel great, which is to be expected.” He smirked.

  “Sorry, that one’s my fault. I kicked you into a tombstone.”

  He laughed and then winced, putting a hand to his head.

  “How is West doing?”

  Ridge smiled softly. “He’s doing all right. A bit banged up like the rest of us, but he’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

  Some of the pressure from my chest eased. “Good. That’s really good.”

  Ridge smiled again, biting his lip as if he was holding something back.

  I poked his cheek. “What is it?”

  He looked at me. “I . . . It’s silly.”

  “Tell me,” I nudged him gently, careful not to hurt him.

  Ridge sighed. “Okay. We just survived some crazy shit back there and I couldn’t imagine having to go through that with anyone else. What do you say we have our first date right here, right now?” he asked, biting his lip again.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked with a laugh.

  Right grinned, nodding. “Hop up here,” he said, smacking the mattress next to him. He pulled his call button out from his sheets and pressed it. “Let’s call the nurse and get her to treat us to a movie and some Jell-O?”

  I threw my head back and laughed. Ridge chuckled too. I laid my head down on his chest and heard the rumble of the laugh in his chest. He curled me into him and squeezed me tight.

  Two Weeks Later

  That night in the hospital, I’d told myself I would never go back to Beaconfield, but there I was, on my way not even a month later.

  Grandma had reassured us that everything was back to normal. That made me more comfortable, but I couldn’t sit still in the back seat of my parent’s car.

  The pine trees rushed past me as we traveled upstate. My parents and I hadn’t said a word to each other since driving over the bridge into Maine—they knew this was going to be a lot for me to handle. Going back to Beaconfield was something I never planned on doing, but I needed to. I needed to finish what I’d started.

  And I wanted to see Ridge, of course. We’d talked to each other nearly every day on the phone. His fall break was over and he’d gone back to school, but I’d been too scared to ask if he and I were dating.

  Over the past couple of weeks, I’d reflected on how I’d been acting with my parents and the way I was treating my life. I knew that I needed to get a job or go to college. If I didn’t, I’d be throwing away all of my potential. I had a lot to offer—I’d fought off a ghost, after all.

  I apologized over and over to my parents. I knew I’d been rude and ungrateful to them. They were amazing parents and amazing people, and they didn’t deserve to have a daughter that disrespected them.

  As for Mom and Dad’s relationship, it was stronger than ever. They were loving again. They were happy. I’d catch them smiling at each other or joking in the kitchen when they made dinner together.

  It was nice to have my family back, and something about this new relationship with my parents felt familiar. I realized that it was why I’d loved my grandparents so much.

  As we drove up the coast of Maine, I saw my dad reach over and grab my mom’s hand. She looked over and gave him a tight smile. She was nervous and scared—we all were. She was also sad, crying into a tissue balled in her hand, having to say goodbye to her father.

  Grandma had rescheduled Grandpa’s funeral. It had taken some convincing, but Dad and I finally got Mom to agree that we all needed to go.

  About two hours later, we passed the Beaconfield sign. I half expected to feel the world turning dark and a sense of dread, but the sky remained blue and nothing changed.

  I rolled down my window and leaned my head out. I took a deep breath of salty sea air. I looked to the right and saw the wharves, their wooden legs bare to the elements in the low tide. The water was far out into the bay and I could smell the sweet scent of the decaying organisms.

  “Mari, roll up your window. It smells like socks,” my mom said, waving a hand in front of her nose.

  “No, Mom, it smells like summer.” I didn’t roll up the window, which made my dad chuckle.

  The car began to make its way through town. I used both windows to look out and make sure that everything seemed normal. The shops were bustling, the doors open to allow the fall air to come in. Kids were running along the sidewalks and riding their bikes on the street.

  All of this made me smile and remember that this was exactly how Beaconfield had been, and how it should be.

  Many of the townsfolk were heading in the same direction, all wearing black clothing. The whole town was invited to the funeral. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement on the sidewalk.

  I turned to see Shay and West Abbott coming out of The Salty Harvest. She wore a lovely black dress and he was in a suit that was slightly too large on him. They were both back to their normal selves. She had a soft smile on her face and West looked the same as he had six years ago: thick curly hair, strong eyebrows, and a face full of freckles. Shay taped a piece of paper to the door that I read as we drove by.

  Closed today from 8 a.m. – 12 p.m.

  Please join us after Cecil Gentry’s service for a meal in celebration of his life.

  Thank you.

  There was only one church in town, as Beaconfield’s population hadn’t warranted more than that. It was a beautiful building with stone that had been weathered by the ocean air for years.

  Dad pulled the car into the parking lot out back. He turned off the engine and turned around to look at me while whispering, “That’s a nice building.”

  My mom and I turned to him and laughed. He was trying to cheer us up.

  “You ready for this?” he asked, more serious now.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Mom said with a sigh. She turned around in her seat to look at me. “How about you, baby?”

  I looked out the window at the building and sighed. I nodded.

  We got out and walked to the front entrance. I stood on the sidewalk looking up the steps to the statue that stood there and then the church behind it. My parents headed up the stairs, but I took my time.

  I went up the stairs, struggling slightly with the boot on my foot, which held my fracture in place. I looked up at the statue of a woman. I wasn
’t religious, I never really had been, so I didn’t know who this lady was supposed to be. She looked important. The closer I looked I saw that she was in fact holding a baby. I quickly realized that this statue was of Jesus and his mother. It was about protection and familial bond.

  I smiled slightly and heard my mom calling for me. She and my dad stood in the church doorway, waving me up to them. I took one last look at the statue and continued up the stone steps into the church.

  The service was nice, simple. My grandmother got up and talked about the years that they’d spent together. I tried not to look at the casket that was in the front of the room. I didn’t want to picture my grandfather’s body lying cold in there.

  I sat in the middle of the pew, my parents on one side of me and my grandmother and her friends on the other. I kept my hand on my grandmother’s knee for most of the service, making sure she knew that I was here for her. There was intermittent crying from a few of us, and although the time had passed for us to be incredibly distraught, it was still sad to be finally putting him to rest.

  When the service was over, I smoothed down my black dress and stood up from the pew. We watched as the pallbearers picked up my grandfather’s casket, a nice mahogany with gold handles, and carried it out of the church. I wiped a tear from my face and straightened—I needed to be brave. My grandmother was next to me, squeezing my hand. My parents were next to her. My dad had his arm around Mom, and even though it was out of sadness, I was still happy to see them bonding in some way.

  The whole town was there, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Everyone had respected my grandfather, and there was a collective feeling of sadness as he was laid to rest. I glanced around the room, looking for no one in particular.

  Well, maybe someone. Across the aisle, I made contact with a familiar set of blue eyes.

  Ridge.

  A smile spread across my face. Before I could stop myself, I was making my way out of the pew, across the aisle, and into his arms. I took a deep breath and smelled the sandalwood of his cologne. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed slightly. I closed my eyes and stayed there until the others in the church got up to head to the graveyard.

  Ridge finally stepped back and looked down at me. “Hey,” he said simply, with his incredible smile.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Shay and West stood behind Ridge. They peeked around him and smiled at me before scooting past to follow the rest of the funeral party out of the church.

  Ridge grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “How are you feeling?” he asked me quietly.

  I leaned into him and let him lead me out of the church. “I’m okay,” I said. “It’s hard being back here.”

  “I know what you mean. It was hard not to think that something bad was going to happen.” He spoke quietly, looking around, making sure that no one was listening to them.

  “But nothing has happened, right?”

  “No, everything’s been normal. We did it. There’s nothing left to worry about.”

  We started our walk to the burial yard, trailing behind the rest of the procession. After all the time we’d spent away from each other, it was nice to be here together, to feel him close to me.

  Outside, the sun was shining and the air was cold. I pulled on my scarf and wrapped it tightly around my neck. Ridge and I walked hand in hand, taking our time. I didn’t want to rush to the graveyard.

  I saw the gate of the graveyard and felt a wave of anxiety creep up my spine. My body tensed and my feet slowed down. Ridge stopped with me just outside of the gates. I looked at him, embarrassed.

  He smiled at me. “Take your time.”

  The graveyard looked different this time around. Before, fallen leaves had covered the grass and pathways, but now it was bright and the yard was covered in flowers wrapped in bouquets at the foot of graves.

  I took a deep breath and then nodded at Ridge. He smiled and we continued our walk into the graveyard.

  “How’s school?” I asked, trying to change the conversation and get my mind off of what it’d been like the last time I was here.

  “It’s good,” he said, nodding. He faked thinking for a moment and then laughed and said, “Yeah, good.” He turned to me and smiled. I stared at those perfect white teeth and his lips. I wanted to kiss him right here. I couldn’t with our families around, but I almost didn’t care.

  “I’ve been thinking about college lately,” I said with a smirk.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “Yeah. I’m not sure what I want to do yet, but I was thinking about going for a Liberal Arts degree and then maybe doing History.”

  “You’ve really thought about this,” he said teasingly.

  “Okay, maybe a little bit. You got me thinking about it.”

  “Where are you thinking about going?” He asked. He was looking around the graveyard too, and I could see that he was nervous.

  “I have a friend that goes to Bowdoin College, and I heard that’s a really great school.” I smiled up at him.

  He smirked. “Oh, so I’m your friend now?”

  “What were you before?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  I looked up at him, mouth agape.

  He smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

  “I guess you’re right. My boyfriend does go there.”

  He snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. I closed my eyes for a moment as we walked and felt the light touch of Ridge’s lips on my head.

  We joined the rest of the funeral procession at my grandfather’s final resting place. I made my way to the front of the semicircle that had formed. Ridge stayed behind with his family. He squeezed my hand just before I let go of him.

  The priest made a few comments on my grandfather before they began lowering him into the ground. People waited a few moments before they whispered to each other and started to leave the graveyard. I stayed where I was, then looked back and saw my parents heading to the restaurant for the lunch. I waved at them, silently telling them to go ahead.

  Turning back, I stared down at the open grave. It didn’t look the same as the grave that Ridge and I had dug a couple weeks ago. They’d draped a green carpet around the sides so that we couldn’t see the dirt. I stood at that grave thinking about the last time I’d been here.

  My skin began to crawl as I pictured Elizabeth’s grave and the bodies of the three family members, together for all eternity. I shivered, thinking about my grandfather lying in there forever.

  Alone.

  But thinking about the ghost that had haunted me, I realized that maybe you weren’t alone when you died. Maybe you got to stay on earth and watch the people you loved. Maybe that’s what ghosts were, people who wanted to stay around to watch their family move forward and live without them.

  I smiled down at my grandfather’s coffin and said, “Thank you, Grandad. I love you.”

  I wiped a tear from my eye and stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets. As I stood there, a breeze of cold air blew past me. It seemed to focus on me, whipping my hair around my face. My heart was beating rapidly and then the wind stopped suddenly.

  Silence.

  “Mari!” I turned toward the sound of my name, and it was Ridge and West. “You coming?” Ridge asked.

  I gave the open grave one final glance and then went to catch up with them.

  If you’re reading this then that must mean that you’ve finished reading my debut novel! Thank you all so much for supporting me; without you my dreams wouldn’t be possible. I apologize in advance because this list will be long.

  Writing a book takes a very long time and contrary to what most people think, it’s not something that you do on your own. Even when you’re an indie author! So, firstly I want to thank my parents, Kathy and Mike, for helping me get this project off the ground. I dedicated this book to them because the theme of family is at its core and my family is my core. Thank you so much, Mom and Dad! Love you.

>   Next up is my baby brother, Jared. He’s not a baby anymore but a fully-grown man but he will always be my little brother. Our relationship with each other was my inspiration for the relationship between Ridge and West. Thanks for always being there, Condor.

  How could I possibly publish a book without mentioning Malia Aguilar? I don’t think I could. Thank you for being the first person to read this book and not telling me that it was terrible. I love you so much and your support means the world to me.

  Ah, Madame President (A.K.A Jessi Elliott), words cannot describe the love I have for you. You, your books, and your drive inspire me every day to be the best that I can be, thank you so much.

  Another early reader of this book, Kelly Andrew. Thank you for reading this book while it was a dumpster fire and still being enthusiastic about the content. You’re such an amazing writer and I look up to you so much. You’re the best.

  I’ve got to take a second and thank my OG writer friends, Lindsay Bilgram and Abigail Carlson. You two are amazing and absolute Queens. All of the success that I have been able to achieve in the past few years has been all thanks to you. You brought me into this writer world and showed me that I had it in me. Linds, thank you for riding on buses for 10 hours to come to the Boston Teen Author Festival with me. I had such a great time watching you meet Holly Black. Abs, thank you for allowing me to crawl into your bed late at night in New York City while we shared a room for BookCon. I can’t wait to spend more time together in the future.

  Jake Aronchick, thank you for letting me sit on your couch and write this book. Your presence and support meant more than you know.

  Anna Kinzel, Ally Sessler, and Andrea Lozowski, thanks for letting me babble about my books to you and not telling me that you think I’m weird. I’m so happy that we work together. You guys came into my life at a time that I needed new people. You all have brought so much joy to my life in the past year, thank you.

  When I agreed to go to the Wander Writers Retreat in 2018 I figured I would meet a few new friends and get some motivation. But I didn’t know I was going to meet Bethany Atazadeh and Mandi Lynn. Bethany, thank you for always being around to talk. You are such a beautiful soul and you inspire me every single day. Mandi, thanks for letting me come to Boston Fan Expo with you. I had so much fun watching you sell your book and make connections with new people, you are amazing. Also, congrats on the marriage.