Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

New Start

"Do you want to come house hunting?"

I stopped biting my pencil and looked up at James.

"Huh?" I asked, my mind half on the calculus I was completing, and half on my craving for orange soda.

"I'm going to look at some houses," he said again, smiling as I started wiggling the pencil between my fingers. "Do you want to come with me?"

I looked back at my computer, I only had a few more problems to complete. "Okay," I answered. "What are we looking for?"


He grabbed his keys off the counter and opened the door. "This place is too small for us," he answered, with a shy smile. "I want to find something bigger for when the baby comes."


My step stuttered. "You want to buy a house for us?" I asked.

"I want to buy a house with you," he clarified. "One big enough for the five of us."


My hand fluttered to my belly. In the past few days I had developed a tiny pooch. My hand came to it without conscious thought, almost like I was checking in with my baby.

"Do you want to stay here?" I asked.

James shrugged. "It's warm," he said. "It's different. Dr. Roberts and Constance are nearby. Kell is enjoying his introduction to the medical field and Taylor is ready to begin instructing at basic training. It makes sense."

I nodded, getting in the car and sitting in the passenger seat as James held the door open for me. He jogged around to the other side of the car and sat down, buckling in and starting it.

"How do you feel about staying here?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I keep picturing our room back in Kennebunk..." I trailed off.

"We can go back," he said. "I didn't know if you'd want to."


I moved my other hand to my belly, thinking about Kennebunk; what people knew about me, what the police thought about me, what had happened.

"I like the idea of a fresh start," I said. "Living where nobody has any preconceived notions of me."


I thought about the looks of judgment I got when buying baby clothes. "Well, I mean, they do, but..."

"But there's not the history the way there is in Maine," James finished for me, reaching over and touching my belly. I placed my hand over his.

"I could like it here," I said, thoughtfully. "I think I could."


James smiled at me, a fully-blown-angel-looking-down-from-the-heavens smile.

"Good," he replied, pulling into a driveway.

My breath caught. "IloveitIloveitIloveit," I whispered.

James chuckled. "You haven't even seen it yet," he retorted.

A stylish looking woman came out of the house and walked toward our car. "Mr. McInnish?" she asked, "I'm Lesia Heald, the agent you spoke to on the phone."


I wondered what this woman thought about two teenagers looking at real estate alone, but she didn't seem flustered or confused at all.

"Hello," James greeted. "This is Lyric Sorenson, my fianceé."


Come again?

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Sorenson." Lesia held her hand out to me.

I stared at James, and he watched me with a small smile before lifting his eyebrows and gesturing to Lesia's hand.

I felt my face flush with heat and I quickly gripped her hand. "I'm sorry," I said. "It's nice to meet you."

Lesia smiled. This woman was unflappable!

She walked toward the house and we followed. "As you can see," she started, "this is a good-sized lot for this area; three acres, partially wooded, and on a backlot, so there are no neighbors behind you."

We walked inside and my breath caught. "It was completely renovated," she said as we entered, "but built originally in 1930. It is Craftsman style, and open, as you can see. There are built-in bookshelves, and columns. Wood floors, and large windows to let in lots of light." 


I was in love.

I could see all parts of the first floor from where I stood: dining room, kitchen, living room. I would be able to do work in one area, and still see the guys while they sat in another.

Or my baby, I thought.

I could see myself doing homework at the dining room table while the guys played with our girl in the living room. A living room full of baby accouterments and soft places to sit, and walls full of books. Lesia brought us through the kitchen and dining room, pointing out details and amenities, but I was already sold. At the back of the kitchen there was a stairway. We climbed up the stairs, light filtering darkly through stained glass as we made our way to the second floor.

"This is a bit unusual," Lesia began, "because this floor has been opened up as well. There's one large bedroom here, with a master suite, and two large walk-in closets, and a smaller room over here, perfect for guests or a home office."


I poked my head into the smaller room. It faced the front of the house, the arched roof creating a small nook and window seat. Bookshelves framed the window, but didn't cast shadows.

"I would have loved this room as a little girl," I told James, clutching his arm tightly.

James looked around, nodding.

"We should look around," he said, "compare. This is the only one we've looked at."


"All it needs is a brook and it would be perfect." 


Lesia cleared her throat. "There is, actually, a small brook in the wooded section of the property, and a..." She looked down at the paper in her hands before smiling. "A fairy house, or tree house, built by the previous owner."

I felt a pop in my belly, like a tiny air bubble burst, and my hands went to my stomach.

James put his hand over mine. "Are you okay?" 


"I think I just felt her move," I said wondrously, watching as James eyes took on a golden glow. "She wants this one, too. I know it." 


"Okay," he said quietly, moving his hands around my waist and pulling me into his arms. I felt him kiss the top of my head before he looked at Lesia. "We want it."

Lesia laughed. "That was easy," she said. "I'll get the paperwork."


"Are you sure?" James asked in my ear.

I nodded. "I love it. She loves it. This is our home."