Key To Your Heart

Epilogue

Roseanne

"What are you humming?" Lucy asks as I put fresh towels on the shelf in the first-floor bathroom.

My brows scrunch. "I don't know."

"Was that 'Pumped Up Kicks'?"

I shrug. "Maybe? You and your mom are the ones with ears for music in this house."

It's been a month since the end of school. A month of us all living together.

It feels like playing house.

It feels too good to be true.

"You know that song is about a school shooting," Lucy deadpans, her black bangs dead straight across her forehead.

I stop. Sometimes she's so abrupt and morbid that I need a second to catch up.

"Really?"

She nods soberly.

"But it sounds so happy. I was humming it happily!"

"Shaking your ass too."

I flush but refuse to be embarrassed. I'm the one doing chores after dark.

"Did your mom teach you this?"

She nods. "Just came from the office. Listened to a bunch of new stuff."

A slow smile spreads across my face. That has become a favorite pastime for them. They sit on that leather couch, drink root beer, listen to music, and talk about it. In depth.

Upcoming tours.

Synthesizers.

Auto-tune.

Guitar pedals.

I once walked in and found them watching a video where Jack White-who I was told is in fact not Edward Scissorhands-builds a guitar with an old board, a few nails, a piece of string, and an old Coke bottle.

"Well, that sounds exactly like the type of storm cloud conversation the two of you would have."

I get a petulant eye roll for that one, but it doesn't bother me at all. This week, Rachel closed on a house in town. Lisa didn't buy it, but she made the entire process her business. Dickering on price, organizing movers-I even overheard her tell Rachel that she knows a good painter named Scotty that she could connect her with.

The same Scotty she fired for talking to me.

Petty asshole.

Either way, knowing Lucy will be close is the cherry on top. I foresee plenty of music sessions in the office for these two. The odd weekend at our place. A come-and-go-as-you-please arrangement is what it's looking like.

"Speaking of conversations I like to have⁠-"

I snort. "Oh, this should be good."

"Have you ever done Bloody Mary?"

"What?"

Lucy rolls her eyes like I'm dumb. "You know... Bloody Mary. Where you say it while you're turning and then see her in the mirror?"

"This is so on brand for you." I slap a hand over my mouth as the sentiment slips out, and Lucy's eyes roll again. But she also chuckles.

"I want to try it. But not alone."

I nibble at my bottom lip. "Like, on Halloween?"

"No. Right now."

"Right now?"

She shoves me farther into the bathroom, facing the mirror. "Right now."

"You know ghosts aren't real, right?"