Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Fifty-Six: Pumpkin Pie, Wildflowers

"Are you nervous?" Hannah asked me as I examined my bare stomach in the mirror.

"I can't remember a time I was more nervous. And I'm always nervous." My hands were shaking slightly. "Is he going to notice right away?" I asked as I touched my stomach. It was perceptibly bigger than it was at my last visit to Dr. Fritz.

"No, he won't notice right away. He wouldn't notice at all . . . If you keep your clothes on this time." She winked at me.

I laughed. "I kept most of my clothes on last time too, and look what happened. You seriously think he won't be able to tell on first glance?"

"I'm positive. Just wear jeans and a loose top or a loose-fitting dress. He won't notice a damn thing."

"Hannah?"

"Yeah?"

"What if he hates me?"

"He won't, babe. He loves you."

***

My hands were shaking as I pulled into her driveway. Annie told me she wasn't feeling so well, but that she still wanted to see me, so we agreed to have a night in at her place instead of grabbing a late dinner out. If she felt better in the morning, she told me that "we're definitely going hiking," and I was excited about that.

I was surprised at the modest size of her house; it was beachfront property in Malibu, but it was a small place. I remember her telling me she liked to keep things simple, so I guess the house suited that philosophy.

I found it a little strange that I could just knock on the door of someone as famous as her, but here I was. I hope she at least had some sort of security to keep her safe.

I gave her a big, cheesy grin the moment she opened the door

"I, uh, these are for you," I mumbled awkwardly and handed her a bouquet of blush roses.

"You remembered," she said quietly. "My favorite color. Thank you so much."

"I listen pretty hard when you say things."

She laughed. "That makes one whole person in this world who does. Anyway, come in. I'm going to find these a vase."

I followed her into her very tidy kitchen and watched as she found a vase from under her sink and filled it with water. She gently placed the flowers in the container and adjusted them until they looked good. "These are beautiful."

"Just like you!" I replied with a cheesy grin.

"I don't feel so beautiful today, but thanks. I feel awful, actually. Look at this amazing sick-person outfit I put together to impress you tonight." She pointed at herself. It was the first time I realized she was wearing a baggy UCLA crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of short athletic shorts that revealed her toned legs. It didn't matter what she wore. She always looked perfect to me.

Today she actually looked even better than usual, which I didn't know was possible. I couldn't determine what it was specifically, but it was something.

"I happen to think you look sexy as hell." I took a chance and pulled her into a hug. She jumped a little when I touched her and again when our bodies met, but she eventually settled into the embrace. I missed how it felt to hold her close to me. It felt safe and right.

I leaned down to kiss the top of her head and breathed her in. "Holy shit, you smell so good," I murmured as I took in the scent of her long, auburn hair. "Oh my God, how did you do this?" I couldn't even describe what she smelled like — a mix of pumpkin pie, wildflowers, and freshly mowed lawn or something? "I'm not letting you go. Ever."