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“You may now kiss the bride!”
It all went by so fast in a blink of an eye.
Laura’s birth. Her first words. Her first drawing she did that we hung on the refrigerator.
To her wedding. Her vows. And her first dance with her beloved new spouse.
I know I can’t turn back time, but I know this day and this moment will keep replaying in my head on an endless loop. Forever.
I take a look around at the reception. Her favorite purple hues are decorated so nicely across the tables and even on the wedding cake. The daffodils and daisies, her favorites to pick from our garden, pop in a spiral pattern wrapped around the staircase railing and as the centerpieces on every table.
My little girl, my adora-Laura, was happy.
So, why wasn’t I?
~~
I take another look around the foyer under the staircase and sigh. I can’t help being reminded of my wedding to Carol, especially today when she helped Laura down the aisle, and even now as she’s mainly sitting at the table next to… Jerry. I grit my teeth and avert my gaze when I just so happen to catch myself staring at them for a bit too long.
Fortunately, Laura only wanted a small wedding, so there was plenty of room for us ghosts to dance around the main lobby (with the extra furniture and tables removed, of course).
Over there, I see what I can only assume is Thor attempting to mirror Flower’s movements while she is giggling and gazing at him in awe.
Some others are more clumped together, like Hetty, Trevor, and Sasappis in their own kind of corner. I debate joining them, but due to Alberta’s occasional pitiful look in her eye, you could say that swayed me from walking over there.
Even Isaac and Nigel seem to be enjoying themselves. They still don’t look like a typical high school prom couple, but they are swaying and occasionally holding hands and taking in the moment.
How sweet…
I could overhear some of the conversation in that main busy corner of the room. Some bickering I suppose. Hetty grabs Trevor’s arm and pulls him away from the group. My eyes seem to be fixated on following them, so I close them… which just so happens to make their voices more clear. What a funny coinkydink.
“Seriously?” Trevor’s voice cracks, “All I’m asking for is one dance!”
“ShhHhhHh, no! Do you want to raise people’s suspicions?” Hetty barely spoke above a whisper.
“Aw, come on!” Trevor scoffs, “Now I can’t even dance in the same 5 feet of you?”
“No. Why are you acting so differently tonight, Trevor? You can’t seriously be influenced by these poor people’s romantic nuptials?” Hetty chortled at him. Trevor always hates it when others question his behavior, he’ll always give you the stink eye. Or worse.
“Ughh, you just don’t get it,” He whined, a bit like a child.
“What is there to get?” Hetty said slowly and let out another scoff. “You know what *this* is, nothing more.” She really took her time sounding out every syllable. Like she was used to dictating more on a stage so those in the back of the house could hear her. But in this case, it’s just, uh, me… n-not *intentionally* eavesdropping though, of course. Ca-Cause that would be impolite to, uh, Trevor and… her.
“Then maybe I’ll just go find someone who’s not embarrassed by me,” Trevor huffs and stomps away.
With one last chuckle, Hetty replies, “I wish you the best of luck, my friend.”
Suddenly, with my eyes still shut, I feel a cold-hearted breeze pass me as I briefly lose my balance. I then spin around and see Trevor making his way into the vault.
~~
It had been a couple of minutes but my brain was still on overdrive. My hands were clammy and I kept leaning over towards the vault’s fake entrance but my feet were glued to the ground.
It’s like there’s some part of me that wants to comfort my old, uh… well, Trevor. But the other part doesn’t want to get involved in what seemed like a private disagreement between two… friends.
I scoff then fully turn around and march toward the vault. I catch my breath as I stop at the fake door for a moment, but turn around and spot Hetty, then promptly step into the isolated, confined room.
I’d like to honestly say that I have no idea where this negative-nelly energy came from… but alas, a pinecone trooper values telling the truth. But, when the truth feels rather complicated and foggy, perhaps it’s not the time to get into all of it right now.
I briefly notice and question the tightening in my chest, and why my hands refuse to relax out of a tight fist. My jaw has also started to become sore from unconsciously biting the inside of my mouth and gritting my teeth. My lungs only allow for shallow, uneasy breaths as I turn towards my right and catch Trevor… crouching with his head in his hands.
~~
Now it feels awkward. I don’t remember the last time I witnessed Trevor crying. Hmm, perhaps he shed a few tears during his memorial a couple of months prior. I remember becoming a bit teary-eyed myself and subtly leaning over to give him the biggest hug, but decided not to. Maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Or maybe I'm just not the right person… b-because of my arrow, unfortunately.
Regardless, I attempt to break the silence by announcing my presence.
I softly clear my throat. His head jolts up a bit, but doesn’t turn around to even look at me.
He speaks hoarsely through his teeth, “Pete, I seriously just wanna be alone right now.”
Before I can answer, he adds with a break in his voice, still recovering from crying moments before, “Wait, why are *you* here anyway? Your daughter’s literally getting married upstairs and you’ve barely seen her in forever.” He turns an inch towards me.
“Why did you follow me here?”
Trevor catches me off-guard. I am unable to speak. I can’t find a good enough reason to over-explain to him. He was right, this is the first time I’ve seen Laura and Little Pete since they first visited here just over a year ago. And they were only here for about one more hour.
Why was I down here trying to comfort someone? And why Trevor of all people? And now being stuck down here in this dusty room with years of history and secrets within these walls…
I should go back to the party. But now I’m stuck in this awkward middle state between all of Laura’s family and friends and every ghost I’ve seen for the past 40 years… and Trevor.
Trevor, who has been here for the past 20-something years. Trevor, who somehow always knows which of my buttons to push by his irritating behavior and remarks about Sam and the guests and H— others.
And yet… I always somehow find myself standing by his side. Or by one person as a buffer between me and him. Does he even notice? Does he care? I mean, it’s not like I believe he completely dislikes me. He has honestly rarely been outright mean to me (which is debatably more than I can say for most of the other ghosts), but there does seem to be some… shift. Some distance. Some… difference in our dynamic that I can’t quite pin down why it feels…
Kinda… um…
Wait, why did I follow him down here again??
I’ve seen him every day, there’s nothing special about this present moment. I should go back upstairs and take in the reception with Laura.
My beautiful Laura. My beautiful, *happy* adora-Laura!
Oh… right.
~~
I shake my head and find my voice. “You’re unhappy,” I say cautiously.
He gives me one of those “duh” looks that always bugs me. I blink a few times and explain myself, “I-I mean, um, I heard you arguing with Hetty. About the wedding.”
He looks away with a slightly guilty look on his face.
I feel a twinge of guilt and resentment in my stomach, too.
I try to get rid of the feeling, so I tilt my head and take a small step forward. “Is there something you… want to talk about? I’m always happy to listen!” Well, I’m usually happy to listen.
~~
I…I don’t know why I feel like I’m forcing a smile. Or even why just walking over here feels almost… painful. Like, tip-toeing on some crazy-hot rocks that make my whole body feel like it’s on fire and left a pit in my stomach. Or, maybe it’s more of a fire flamey-fluttery sensation or something.
It’s weird, isn’t it? I’m not sure if Trevor is acting weird, or if I just feel even weirder all of a sudden. I mean, it’s not like I don’t see Trevor everyday. Well, at least every other day. And it’s not like we don’t talk… Well, I guess we don’t always respond. Or share anything more than a passing remark more often than not.
Huh. I guess I’ve never really given it too much thought— well, maybe it’s crossed my mind once or twice. Or more. It’s just— Everytime I think about this unspoken but painful shift in our, you know, friendship, it just feels… sucky. Just really really sucky. Like, all of the time. Even if we’re laughing or cheering someone else on, there’s always that part of me that wants to glance in his direction, for some acknowledgment or reassurance, but it feels like he’s pushed me away.
Honestly, I’m not sure if I’d even really call us “friends” now.
Like, what do you do with friends? You can talk and joke. You uplift and support each other in good times and heartache. But, most importantly… you’re there for each other. Even when it stings.
Especially when it stings.
I have to remind myself again to unclench my jaw and take a deep breath. I open my eyes and Trevor is still facing away from me. So I give myself a moment to breathe.
~~
I’ve always been more of a quiet thinker. And nowadays, more often than not, I have caught myself sitting around while the thought of Carol or Alberta crosses my mind with a sting. When we first met. Some of the inside jokes and laughs we’ve shared. And those moments that make me hopeful. You know, those slivers of time that make your heart skip a beat and you can feel yourself falling back into the idealistic belief that the person you're devoted to… just might… maybe… feel the same way. Match your energy.
If there’s anyone who always tries to match people’s energies… I’ll admit, Trevor usually can. But you know, for friends.
But now, alone, in this dark and depressing vault hallway… he seems almost completely depleted of any energy to match. It pulls at my heartstrings a bit, honestly. I feel a small lump in my throat.
~~
For some reason, that moment felt like we were frozen. Stuck in place.
I always offer a shoulder to cry on (well, figuratively because… well, you know). Im always happy to give advice and help out the other ghosts with any kind of issues. Familial, friendship, or relationships.
But, right now? With this weird feeling sitting uncomfortably on my chest?
Why does it feel like once I cross this invisible line… that there’s no going back?
Maybe I should go back. It could be safer going back…
I lower my head and look back towards the reception while shifting my weight towards the fake entrance again. I mean, he didn’t want me following him in here anyway, so there’s no point in me staying. “W-Well, you don’t have to talk now. I’m sorry to bother you, Trevor—“
“Wait.” I slowly turn back towards him. He gives me that puppy dog look that I knew meant he doesn’t want to be alone. Gosh darn it— I’ve always been bad at saying no to my closest— uh, Trevor. I take another bittersweet step towards him and sit down.
I pat the ground in front of me and nod my head at him with a small smile on my face. He knows that’s the cue that I’m ready when he’s ready to start opening up.
He gazes down at my hands and fixes his eyes to that singular spot on the floor. “I’ve always hated weddings. A lot. Cuz after every single one, my parents kept nagging me about the same question over and over again: when are you gonna meet a nice, Jewish girl and settle down? What are you waiting for?” He said that last part in a mockery tone, but with also a twinge of sadness. Like, he felt some kind of lost hope.
I reach my hand out a little farther and hum in agreement.
“And— like— ugh, I don’t know!” He looks away and shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted to have fun and do my job!” He crosses his arms and looks towards the spot my hand is placed on the floor again.
“But…” He gazes in my direction again.
“But?” I gently push.
“But…” he takes a deep breath in and grunts. “Whatever. It’s too late now. So, who even cares?”
I’m puzzled but scooch towards him ever so slightly. “Well, it sounds like *you* still care, Trevor. And that’s perfectly normal to wonder what your life could’ve looked like if you did what was expected of you.”
His eyes dart back and forth at the wall even though he is still fixated on the floor. He is mumbling.
“Is that how you felt with Carol?”
Oh. I feel like I was hit like one of those henchmen who work for the bad guy in an ‘80s movie. Like all the air was sucked out of my lungs and I was left alone. Kinda like how the arrow felt just moments before I joined these ghosts.
But, no. I liked Carol. Maybe we were never quite in love, and clearly not always on the same page, but I surely had some caring urge to protect her and Laura and wanted to stay by their side for the rest of my days.
…I suppose those days were irrelevant now.
I take a careful breath and attempt to look Trevor in the eye. “Well, you know how it ended up for me and Carol. She moved on. And even though I did the best on my end to live up to those marriage expectations, she still let me down.” Even though that was a total understatement.
Despite how I could sense a crack of vulnerability due to thousands of thoughts of Carol and Laura beginning to circle and spiral around in my mind, I push them aside. I regain my thoughts for the ghost in front of me. “Sometimes relationships work out, and sometimes they don’t,” I sigh towards the reception again, then look back at him as I could sense an intuitive slight smirk on my face.
“But that doesn’t mean we don’t have another chance to see what could work out.”
~~
Uh, oh. I can tell that set off some alarm or bells in his head since he promptly stands up and starts pacing and fidgeting by the door that is the passageway between this mini hallway and the dreadful vault itself.
You know, we don’t actually go down here very often. Heck, I remember the last time we were here was for that speakeasy with the less-than-kind passcode name Sam came up with. And with Jay and Sam upstairs using Shawshank as an inspiration to get the booze for the customers. And with… a certain someone standing in this doorframe with me who gave a new meaning to the already demeaning and embarrassing “talk to the hand” phrase.
Oh, Jiminy, now I wish I had just stayed upstairs.
He must’ve noticed I was reminiscing since he gives me a look of concern. He tilts his head and looks in my general direction, then looks around at the door frame while gesturing.
“Uh, I know I didn’t say anything earlier, but I’m sorry Alberta rejected you.” He speaks softly. And sounds sincere. It’s… sweet to hear him say that. “Y-You’re a, uh, great guy, Pete.” I grinned widely.
“Thank you, Trevor.” I match his soft tone. He grins a bit but tries to hide it by swaying and gazing away. I notice we are standing in opposite spots than when I was here with Alberta. The light hits a bit differently from this side, but it still projects a nice golden glow on his face—a-and the general area. “Y-You’re not too bad yourself,” I joke, which successfully eases some of my nerves at that moment.
Well, mostly successful.
Successful enough.
We both take in this comfortable silence together, like we used to some unknown time ago that felt like it was in another lifetime. Well, afterlife-time.
I take another deep breath and sigh. I tilt my head in his direction, paralleling his posture. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, you know?”
I don’t know if I honestly meant that. Did I still have feelings for her? Yes, but they felt more faint and inconsistent. But did I still want to try and kiss her just to get rejected all over again? Heh… not a chance.
I lick my lips and stare up at the ceiling, waiting to hear some kind of answer. Maybe about Carol. Maybe about Alberta. Or maybe about…
“T-Trevor?!” I yelp as he leans in towards me to—
A-As Trevor (like, Trevor-Trevor??!?) leans in to kiss me.
To kiss… me?
I’m frozen. Just absolutely taken aback. If my eyes were open any more they might’ve made some spooky Halloween decorations. Oh gosh, my brain is racing at a thousand thoughts a minute—or maybe the expression is a million miles a minute? Either way, oh boy!
Was he just being pitiful? Since Alberta rejected me—no no, that doesn’t make much sense…
But…why me? He—Trevor, that is— doesn’t have feelings for me? Right? He’s not, um… is he?
How long has he liked— well, maybe he’s just, uh, trying something out… ???
I’m not sure why it feels like he’s using this to make fun of me, like for not getting a kiss from Alberta. And yes, I know that makes literally no sense. Or maybe to make himself… feel better… in terms of…
I have no clue.
I feel like all logic is flying out the door as I feel his lips on mine.
Gosh, I can hardly think straight… Oh, right.
And yet here I am. Under this doorframe. In the isolated vault room. With no one around us…
Aw, darn it all to heck—
After what feels like an eternity, I’m eventually able to steady my hands and gently place them on his face. The kiss feels so warm, and welcoming. I blissfully lean into the feeling. I can feel my face flush as I kiss him back, and I can feel my heart melt when he starts grinning, too.
Oh my… This moment is… nice. And… refreshing, I-I think? Like a nice, friendly hug at the end of a long, hard day—w-while a dozen butterflies flutter around us…then fly away. Finally letting my shoulders drop as I relax… with Trevor.
~~
We take a moment—a breather—from the kiss. Our kiss. To take in this moment. Together…
There is certainly no going back over that invisible line now!
“Trevor, I—“ there are a thousand things I could say to him right now. ‘Thank you.’ ’Why did you push me away?’ ’How long have you wanted to do *that*?’ That… honestly amazing thing that is still making my heart beat out of my chest like I’m some cheesy cartoon character who has a crush.
Or, well, maybe a teeny bit more than a crush.
He looks at me with a dreamy expression that was warm and loving and—oop! There he went, making my heart skip a beat again. He plays with my ascot which makes me nervous. But the good kind of nervous. Well…maybe only when he does it.
If I had a ghost power, I wish I could read others' minds. Well—sometimes. But not as much as I wish I could read his right now.
“So, um,” I start again while fidgeting with my hands. “Do you… like me?”
He gives me a softer version of the “duh” face, but it still annoys me enough I raise my eyebrow at him, and he softens. He glances to the side as his eyes dart back and forth at the wall again.
“…yeah. I kinda do, Pete,” he whispers in the most vulnerable and sincere and yet honestly raw tone of voice I’ve ever heard from the reformed finance bro standing in front of me.
I grin cheesily. I try to speak, but no words come out. I’d like to reciprocate his sentiment. I hold my breath for a moment… but still, no words are said. Just me looking like a fool (like a, putz?), as I feel like whatever I say will sound like I’m lying.
But, why would it seem like I’m lying? After we just did… that. That wonderful, wonderful thing that makes me feel all sorts of fluttery feelings in such a wonderful, wonderful way.
Is this what I wanted with Alberta? With Carol? I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy some lovely, romantic times when I was alive. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I had dreamt about what a kiss with that beautiful jazz singer would feel like if I ever got the chance to.
But right here, right now. I… was happy.
I was—no, I am happy. In the present. With… Trevor. My Trevor.
~~
I chuckle to myself, repeating that thought over and over again. *My Trevor*
*My Trevor. My Trevor. My Trevor*.
Somehow, everything just clicks into place. I can see clearly now, it all makes sense.
The shift. The weird, unspoken dynamic for months… or maybe even more…
Why he pushed me away…
Why I felt like we were living in two separate worlds…
At least now we found our way back to each other. And I finally feel like I’ve returned home.
To Trevor.
~~
“Well, I-I like you too, Trevor.”
Trevor shyly smirks again and blushes while averting his gaze. “Well, I-I mean— I figured now since we—“ he gestures at our faces between us.
“Oh, right!” I chuckle and rock back and forth. Trevor must feel alert, like he went into a ‘defensive’ or ’protective partner mode’, since he promptly reaches out to hold onto my shoulders to make sure I’m grounded & balanced.
“Careful there, Petey—“
My face lightens up with a big smirk. “P-Petey?”
“Oh, yeah— P-Petey. Heh…” He blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I dunno why I said that—“
I giggle, “No, I… I like it. A while back, I used to go by ‘Petey Pie’.” Back when my wife and I used to share some special nicknames.
“Petey pie…” Trevor furrows his brows and taps his chin. It’s… a lil cute to be honest. Hehe…
“Ohhhh!” Trevor lightly facepalms and smirks at me. “Like, ‘sweetie pie’, right? Since you’re always super into puns and stuff?”
“Hmm mm!” I grin somehow even wider and nod my head like a goofy bobble head.
“Well I guess a T-money appreciates a little Petey Pie,” he winks at me.
I’m probably giggling like a maniac, but I don’t mind. I hadn’t heard that nickname—my favorite nickname, no less—being said in, well, forever! And by Trevor of all people…
My Trevor. (Even sweeter!!)
If ghosts could swoon and faint, then I’d surely be passed out in his arms. Ooh, boy!
I gently place my hand on his face and tilt my head again. “Abso-tutely lutely, Trevy-bear!!” He giggles and licks his lips again.
I’m so proud of myself that this time it is I, Pete Martino, who leans in *first* and softly returns his generous kiss from earlier. Pay it forward, they always say.
This time the kiss feels even more right. It’s like when you go your whole life searching for the perfect thing, then once you found it, you’re complete.
We kiss and sway back and forth, switching positions. It almost feels like a little dance we’re creating together. Pete Martino and Trevor Lefko-waltz. Perhaps I’ll share that with him in a moment. Maybe he’ll appreciate the pun this time around… as we turn back around again.
I feel so natural in his arms. I never knew I could feel so nervous but also somehow… so secure at the same time. Today really is a bunch of firsts for this pinecone trooper…
It feels like I’ve returned home from the freezingly harsh and bitter snow and am now welcomed home with a gentle forehead kiss, cuddled up with a cup of cocoa, and have a navy paisley blanket wrapped around me. Just Trevor hugging the fuzzy, comfy, and cute lil ole’ blanket around me. Ahh… I feel like I could simply live in that moment–and in this sweet & simple moment–forever.
Just me and Trevor. Bundled & cuddled up under our shared, lovely blanket. Sharing our cups of hot cocoa, just the way we like them. Gazing out the window. His head gently resting on my arrowless shoulder. And I’m happy. Effortlessly happy.
Simply and securely happy with the two of us at home again on a dark, cold, and lonely night.
Well, I suppose I don’t feel quite as lonely anymore.