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“I think you were supposed to turn there,” Nancy says.
“Turn where?” Jonathan asks incredulously, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “I can barely see anything through this fog. We could drive off a cliff at any moment!”
Nancy would give him a comforting pat on the shoulder if he didn’t look like he was about to jump out of his skin. Jonathan’s always been a nervous driver but she’s even feeling a little wary herself too.
“I think Steve just asked us to visit so he could lure us to our deaths,” he grumbles, slowing to a crawl.
Ignoring the comment, Nancy suggests she drive instead. Jonathan doesn’t put up a stink like he usually does and they switch spots. In the driver’s seat now, Nancy circles the car back around, and although she doesn’t voice it out loud, she is slightly worried there’s a cliff right nearby.
Nancy didn’t lose touch with Steve after she left for school on the east coast, heading out there with Jonathan in tow. Steve and Nancy had taken to writing to each other every once in a while. She would mostly write about school, what living in a big city was like. Steve’s letters, scrawled in his messy handwriting, would recount his days at the Family Video where he had gotten a job. He became a horror movie buff while working there, had turned to writing her reviews of the most recent one that came to VHS. Jonathan enjoyed reading those — he would watch the ones Steve gave four-stars to.
Then Steve finally decided to move away from Hawkins, into his grandmother’s old house on some remote coastline of California. It was unexpected, Steve’s new living situation. And he had never mentioned that he had a grandma on the west coast. Though when he wrote about the house, he described it as if it was his childhood home, so he must’ve spent a decent amount of time there.
But it did sound lonely and when Nancy had noted that in one of her letters, Steve had replied It’s not lonely, I’ve got Billy .
Nancy had no idea who Billy was and Steve never offered any explanation about how Billy came into his life. After mentioning Billy for the first time, Steve began writing about him more and more. Billy planted more rose bushes in the garden he’d write or Billy baked an amazing cake last weekend or Billy took care of Agnes when she wasn’t feeling well recently .
Nancy had no idea who Agnes was either but this mysterious Billy seemed to be great company for Steve so Nancy tried not to ask too many questions.
A few months ago, Nancy had let Steve know that she and Jonathan planned to spend their summer going on an extended road trip. They hadn’t done a big trip since graduating last year and they would have some time off after finishing their internship, so they decided they would be able to make it out to the west coast.
You’ll have to visit if you’re out here, Nance Steve had written back. We’d love to have you.
And that’s how she’s ended up in what feels like the middle of nowhere trying to find Steve’s house.
“There’s the damn road we’re supposed to take,” Jonathan says, pointing to the left. Though they haven’t seen anyone else since they left the main road, Nancy flicks on the blinker, just in case a car comes barreling out of nowhere, and turns.
She takes the winding drive carefully because she can barely see more than a few feet ahead of her and there’s so many switchbacks, Nancy loses count. The road leads up and up until they finally hit more level ground.
The fog breaks a bit, revealing a dark, towering Victorian mansion surrounded by taller trees, their skeletal branches reaching every which way. It’s all very monochrome — dark gray siding, black shutters and shingling. Large windows with heavy-looking curtains line the ground floor. Nancy swears she sees a slight flutter of curtains in one of the windows on the top level of the house, like someone was peeking out and moved away quickly.
“Looks like Steve’s grandma was loaded too,” Jonathan comments.
“Are you really surprised?” Nancy responds. She pulls up close to the wraparound porch, leans forward in her seat to look up through the windshield at the imposing house before them. “Well, here we are.”
They wait a tick, then as though planned, they both open their car doors at the same exact time.
“It’s quiet,” Jonathan remarks, standing up and stretching his hands towards the sky. Nancy nods. It’s strange, the stillness of the place.
A moment later, a crow lands on the highest turret of the house, gazes down on them and begins to caw loudly, breaking the almost eerie silence.
The bird tilts its head, eyeing them with curiosity as they walk up to the front door. The door is a heavy, wooden one with wrought iron detailing.
“Should we try knocking?” Jonathan asks. Nancy doubts someone would be able to hear any sort of noise through the door.
“Oh, I think there’s a doorbell,” Nancy says, casting her eyes to the brass lion’s head to the right of the door. A tiny button is visible inside its mouth which is open in an apparent roar.
Jonathan reaches a hand towards the gaping mouth. Nancy half expects it to chomp down on his finger and Jonathan must feel that way too because he pulls his hand away quickly once he presses the button.
A deep gong sounds from somewhere deep in the house and the door creaks open almost immediately, like someone had been waiting there for them this entire time. Except it only opens a crack. Jonathan gives it a push and it creaks further away from them.
Nancy’s about to open her mouth to call out a tentative hello? when a young man suddenly steps out from behind the door, causing both her and Jonathan to take a quick step back. He’s around their age and reminds Nancy of an old Hollywood star. His golden hair is slicked back and a thin mustache rests above his upper lip. His bright blue eyes shine as he looks them up and down.
He’s wearing a well-tailored three-piece pinstripe suit. There’s a decaying rose stuck to the lapel of his jacket.
“Billy?” Nancy assumes this must be him. She’s not sure who else he could be.
“The one and only,” he says, flashing them a smile, his tongue licking over his sharp-looking teeth.
“Come in, come in,” he insists, ushering them in through the door.
“Sorry, we would’ve been here sooner, but it was a little hard to navigate through the fog,” Nancy explains.
“Yeah, the fog comes and goes as it pleases around here,” Billy replies. “Steve should’ve warned you.”
Stepping inside, Nancy takes in the vast interior of the house. Marble flooring leads to a grand staircase with two dark hallways stretching off to either side. As Billy closes the door behind them, a dark shape swoops in, whizzing right by Nancy’s elbow. Clutching at her chest, she lets out a startled cry.
“Oh, it’s only Agnes,” Billy assures her as a crow — Nancy suspects the very same one from the turret — lands on his shoulder.
“She lives here, too. And don’t worry, she wouldn’t harm —,” Billy gives Agnes a sly look. “Well, she wouldn’t harm a guest,” he finishes.
Oh Nancy realizes Agnes is a pet crow . The bird sidles across the width of Billy’s shoulder, swivels its head towards Nancy and Jonathan, ruffles its feathers out. Agnes coos happily when Billy lightly scratches at the top of her head.
“Hang on, I’ll let Steve know you two are here,” Billy says, walking over to the grand staircase. It’s lined with lit candles, held up by hand-shaped candelabras. Nancy could swear the light’s playing tricks on her. The hands seem to be swaying slightly.
“Steve, my love,” he calls up. “Your guests have arrived.”
My love? Nancy thinks as Billy’s voice echoes back down to them. That’s interesting. She knows Jonathan won’t say anything. Will has found himself a boyfriend after his first year in college. And Nancy, well. It’s not a big deal, really. She just didn’t know that Steve was into guys.
The tap of footsteps comes from an unseen hallway and Steve appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in a black suit. The only time Nancy ever saw Steve in a suit was at his high school graduation and he made it a point to complain about the fact that his parents made him wear it. Pastel blue , I mean c’mon he had griped. It seems he’d changed his mind about menswear, or at least he appreciated a suit when it came in a color that he felt maybe suited him better.
And Nancy starts to feel a little shabby in her jeans and top compared to their hosts.
“You made it!” Steve says. At the sound of Steve’s voice, a black cat dashes out from the dark of the hallway downstairs on the right and bounds up the steps, stopping right in front of Steve. It meows loudly at his feet and Steve tuts.
“No need to be frightened Zelda. Nancy and Jonathan are friends,” he soothes, bending down to pick the cat up. Steve tucks her into his arms and descends the stairs.
When he steps to the bottom, Zelda jumps from Steve’s arms and scampers off again. Agnes swoops off of Billy’s shoulder and follows after her. Billy moves to take Steve’s hand in his. Bringing it up, Billy turns Steve’s wrist over so he can kiss at the skin there.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Steve says, a mischievous glint in his eye. He moves towards Nancy and Jonathan and as he approaches, Nancy notices Steve’s looking much paler than he had in Hawkins. His pallor strikes her as odd seeing as he lives in California and about thirty minutes from a beach at that. Billy, on the other hand, looks perfectly sun-kissed. He pulls her in for a hug and without thinking, Nancy inhales. He smells like the earth after a long rainstorm.
“Yeah, it’s real homey,” Jonathan jokes as Steve goes to hug him. Steve chuckles.
“And I see you’ve already met Billy,” Steve remarks. “He came with the house.”
“Don’t tease,” Billy scolds. “I was his grandmother’s caretaker.”
“When she passed, she left me the house. My parents weren’t too happy when I told them I was moving to California,” Steve says. “It had been a while since I had been out here and I wasn’t sure what kind of state the house would be in. But who did I find still taking care of the place when I arrived?”
Billy performs an exaggerated bow at that.
“I came to my grandma’s often when I was much younger,” Steve continues. “But my parents thought she was too strange . That she was a bad influence on me.”
As he says this, Steve rolls his eyes.
“I never agreed with them but what can a six-year old do when he’s told that he’s no longer being sent to gram’s house when they’re going on extended trips? That they’re just going to hire a full-time nanny instead?”
“Parents, huh?” Billy commiserates. He and Steve share a knowing look.
“Are you hungry?” Steve asks, his attention back on Nancy and Jonathan. “Billy’s been in the kitchen these past few hours making dinner.”
“I could eat,” Jonathan pipes up. Nancy and Jonathan had been in the car for a few hours, with only some chips to share between them after their lunch earlier today.
They move into the dining room. A long table that could fit close to twenty people takes up a large amount of space. It’s got high-backed dark red velvet chairs, ones that Nancy could easily imagine Steve’s grandparents and their fancy guests sitting in years ago.
Because it’s only four of them, some place settings are squeezed on one side. A vase is placed in the middle with a bouquet of decaying flowers.
“The flowers are looking lovely,” Steve comments to Billy. Billy hums in agreement, though most people would be mortified having visitors over and about to serve dinner with withered flowers on display.
“I’ll have to do some more pruning soon,” Steve says quietly, as if reminding himself.
“I’ll show you the garden tomorrow if you’re interested,” he offers to Nancy and Jonathan. “It seems I’ve somehow inherited my grandmother’s green thumb.”
Nancy doesn’t know about that, considering the flowers that she’s seen in this house have all been dead.
This jogs a memory for her though, of the Harrington’s house in Indiana. They had a garden too. She remembers Steve once telling her he used to get in trouble growing up because he would snip the flowers off his mother’s prized rose bushes. He had revealed he’d hide the roses in his room, under his bed, and got in trouble when his nanny found them a few weeks later, red flower petals wilted into the rug.
“Sit, sit,” Steve insists. As they go to sit down, Billy pulls out a chair for Steve while Jonathan struggles to pull his own back. The chairs are a bit heavy but he and Nancy both manage to pull them out enough to slip into them.
“Steve told me you eat seafood,” Billy chimes. “There’s never any trouble getting good, fresh seafood in California. The woman at the local market in town always sell things to me at a really good price.”
“That’s because you play along with her flirting,” Steve notes. Billy winks at him.
“Anything for a good deal,” Billy says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be back with the food.”
He leaves and returns a minute later, holding a large serving platter.
“I’ve made braised octopus,” Billy announces. He places it on the table next to Jonathan, and Nancy sees her boyfriend balk out of the corner of her eye.
“Billy…” Steve trails off, his eyes moving from the octopus to Nancy and Jonathan’s faces.
“But it’s one of your favorites,” Billy grumbles, understanding the unspoken point Steve is trying to make. Steve remains silent, looking at Billy expectantly.
“Alright, I did make something as a backup for our guests. Just in case,” he admits. He leaves the dining room again.
This time, Billy brings out salmon filets with some vegetables for Nancy and Jonathan and they all dig in. It’s slightly disconcerting, watching Billy slurp a large piece of octopus tentacle into his mouth. Steve’s a bit more dainty in his eating, cutting it up into smaller pieces.
At one point, Zelda runs in and Steve pushes his chair back to let her sit on his lap. He feeds her some pieces of octopus straight from his plate.
“She likes it, too,” Steve says. “It was all she would really eat when we first found her.”
“Found her?” Nancy asks.
“Yeah, she was a stray. Billy happened upon her in the graveyard. She had a nasty bite from something and we took her in,” Steve explains.
“Graveyard?” Jonathan squawks.
“The old family graveyard is on the grounds,” Steve says. “My grandma is buried there. A lot of my family members too. Dating back to when this house was first built in the 1800s.”
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Jonathan admits. “Family history and stuff. I never even met any of my grandparents.”
“I used to love exploring the graveyard any time I was out here as a kid,” Steve says. “When I told my mother once that my grandma let me hang out there, she had a heart attack. That’s not a place for a child to be, she claimed. I heard her arguing on the phone with my grandma about it later.”
Billy’s going to town on the octopus while Steve talks and Jonathan’s staring.
“Now that I live here, I can spend as much time as I want in the graveyard and not be made to feel bad about it,” Steve declares triumphantly.
Jonathan looks on as Billy takes another piece of octopus from the platter. Nancy tries to bump Jonathan’s leg under the table to get him to stop gawking, but it’s not working. Billy must feel Jonathan’s gaze on him because he suddenly looks up, locking eyes with him.
“Dare you to try it,” Billy challenges, jabbing his fork at Jonathan, the tentacle on it wiggling. Jonathan, never good about stepping down from a dare, takes a large piece from the platter, forks it into his mouth. He spends a full-on minute chewing it.
“It’s. Good,” Jonathan grits out after swallowing it all down. Billy smirks.
During dinner, Steve also reveals that he and Billy go up to the Bay Area every once and a while to see Dustin at Stanford. That he and Dustin will reminisce about Hawkins sometimes.
“Do you miss it?” Nancy asks. She’ll feel the pull towards home occasionally, living so far away from the rest of her family. She even misses Mike from time to time.
“Not really,” Steve replies.
“It always sounds so stuffy to me whenever you talk about it,” Billy gives his two cents.
“My parents always wanted me to fit into a mold and I did try to squeeze myself into it for a while — d o this , say that . I never felt like I truly belonged in Hawkins. Not like how I feel out here. In this house, with Billy.” As he says this, Steve slides a hand across the table and Billy takes it in his own.
After they’ve finished their dinner, Billy asks if anyone is up for dessert.
“Oh no, I’m too stuffed,” Nancy replies, though it’s really because she’s not sure she wants to see what Billy has prepared.
“Let’s check out the library,” Steve says, standing up. “My grandmother had collected books throughout her life. There are pretty really cool ones.”
They make their way to the library, passing by a number of rooms, all with their doors shut. Inside the library, it’s all wood-paneling. The bookshelves are encased in glass. Nancy opens one up, runs her hands over the spines.
“Take a look at this one,” Steve says, coming over to Nancy, holding what appears to be an old leather-bound book. There’s writing on the cover but the ink is too faded out for Nancy to be able to read.
“My grandmother told me it’s one of those books bound with human skin,” Steve tells her.
“What!?” Nancy shouts, jumping back. “You’ve got to be joking!”
Nancy doesn’t want to believe that Steve is holding a book made with skin from a dead human. Jonathan hurries over to examine the book.
“Woah,” is all he can muster, his eyes bugging out of his head.
“Your grandmother told me that too,” Billy says, coming up behind Steve to hook his chin over Steve’s shoulder. “But you do know she liked to embellish things.”
“I guess we won’t ever know if she was telling the truth,” Steve asserts, his tone solemn.
They while away another hour or two in the library before Nancy starts to get sleepy. She sees that Jonathan’s eyes are getting droopy. She lets out a yawn.
“You must be tired,” Steve acknowledges. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Yeah,” Nancy agrees. “There was a lot of driving today.”
“Well, we’ve got a room upstairs all set up for you,” Steve says. He leads them out of the library back towards the entrance of the house.
Jonathan runs outside to the car to get their bags.
“If you’d like, we could drive into town tomorrow for breakfast,” Steve suggests when he comes back inside.
“Sounds like a plan,” Nancy says.
They all go upstairs together, Steve and Billy linked arm in arm. On the second floor, Steve motions to the hallway on the right.
“Your room’s the first one there,” he says, pointing it out.
“Great, thanks so much,” Nancy replies. They say their goodnights.
“We’re on the third floor,” Steve says, moving towards the next flight of stairs with Billy.
“Shout if you need anything,” Billy throws over his shoulder as he and Steve continue up.
“We will,” Nancy responds. She watches as Billy bumps shoulders with Steve, leaning over to whisper something in his ear. Steve grins at whatever he’s said.
She and Jonathan walk to the room and peek inside. It’s got one of those canopy beds, shrouded in gauzy curtains. The kind that Nancy always wanted growing up. Jonathan plops their bags on the bed and they get ready to go to sleep.
“So Steve and Billy?” Jonathan prompts as they slide under the covers a few minutes later.
Nancy opens her mouth to reply, but a long, lonesome howl from outside interrupts her.
“Um, are there wolves in California?” Jonathan asks. Nancy’s too tired for this.
“Jon, let’s just go to sleep,” she says with a sigh, burrowing herself into his chest.