Sebastian by P.D. Cacek

Author:P.D. Cacek
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror; gothic fantasy; dark fantasy; flame tree press; creepy stories; dark suspense; horror fiction; historical mystery; historical horror
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2022-09-13T08:50:35+00:00

Chapter Ten

No, I didn’t go to the gallery opening. Got a bug at work and didn’t want to give it to anyone, so I stayed home.

I heard it was great and the Art Walk, yeah, I love those and really hated to miss that…and the opening, of course, but Holly and Hannah really had a good time and told me all about it.

Remember when I was talking about ‘if I’d only known’? Yeah. If I’d only known that was going to be her last opening, I would have…

…I guess I wouldn’t have been sick.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?”

Morgan tugged the afghan out of the way as the recliner raised him from the lie-flat position to a semi-upright one. He’d been coughing around the house since Wednesday and came home complaining of a headache and sore throat. He had no fever – his wife checked – but still felt chilled despite the afghan and sweat suit he’d changed into after taking a hot shower.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I’ll just veg out in here and relax. I’m probably on the downhill side and should be fine by tomorrow.”

“Well, we’ll see. I don’t like leaving you alone when you don’t feel well. Maybe we should stay home.”

“No.” Morgan coughed into the afghan. “I’ll be fine. Really. Besides, the car’s already here and if you didn’t go Hannah would miss out on the experience. How many more times will she get to ride in a limo?”

If his mother hadn’t hired another town car to pick them up for the opening, if his staying home meant Holly would have had to drive herself and their daughter through the dark and frigid January night, he would have had a miraculous recovery.

“I’ll be fine…. Was that the doorbell?” Morgan raised the recliner into a full sitting position and lowered the footrest. “Did you hire a babysitter for me?”

Holly laughed. “I think they’re called home-care specialists for someone your age, and that’s a good idea…but I didn’t. Be right back. Hannah! Two minutes!”

Morgan looked up at the ceiling as the sound of his daughter’s footsteps thumped overhead. It was a big night for her as well as his mother and a part of him would have liked to have been there to see her basking in the glory as she stood next to her photographic doppelganger.

But not a big enough part.

“Okay, Miss Hannah, tell your daddy bye and we’ll head out.”

His daughter came wearing her hooded parka and carrying the faceless Amish doll, dressed in its miniature snowsuit and knit cap, under one arm. Hannah and Holly were also appropriately dressed for the occasion, for the Art Walk, not the opening.

“We’re going, Daddy.” Hannah said and tried to jump into his lap for a quick cuddle.

“No, Hannah.” Holly came in holding an insulated bag and TV tray. “Daddy’s sick.”

“I’ll be better soon,” Morgan said and held out his hand, fingers pressed together. “Finger kiss.”

His daughter laughed and clasped her fingers together, making kissy sounds when their fingers met.

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