Read Uncollected Blood for Free Online Page A

creak again and he had to check to see if Melinda had returned to staring into his bedroom again.  She had, and even he had to check and see if that creepy shadow was still missing. He was grateful this it was. He didn’t believe in ghosts. Perhaps, it was a nice thought, romantic even, that souls can remain on Earth for a little bit, but Paul was pretty certain you were dead when you died. That made sense to him. The microwave dinged, as Melinda buttoned her coat back up.
    “You need a hat,” he said and dashed into his bedroom. He heard her gasp and it made him freeze for just a moment before he quickly snatched up the Santa hat.  Two steps backward got him out of the bedroom.
    “Festive,” she said as she donned the cap.
    “After you.”
    Melinda stepped out and Paul took a moment to lock the door, and then they were out on the sidewalk, warm mugs in their gloved hands, and the hot air rising up. The orange glow of the street lights cut through branches. Down the street, homes were all lit up for Christmas.
    “Not quite like downtown or Lewis Ginter,” he said, letting the warm air off the hot chocolate rise to his lips.
    “It’s still real pretty. Would make it harder to leave, wouldn’t it?”
    He didn’t answer, he was enjoying this moment, and that raised his suspicion. Maybe Melinda was a ghost and she just wanted company on her last night. She was definitely a hot ghost.  He paused and they both stopped and looked at the white lights immaculately wrapping bushes and railings, around the windowsills and along the gutters of a beautiful brick house.
    “That’s nice. Classy,” Paul said.
    “You’re not a fan of the bright colors and inflatables?” She nuzzled against him. A ghost couldn’t do that!
    “No I like that, but it’s not me, I think I’d do something like this,” Paul said.
    “Me, too. It’s just pretty. Everyone celebrates Christmas in their own little way, and it all sounds so nice I think. Just being together with loved ones…”
    “What does your family do?”
    “Well it’s just my grandmother these days, but it’s nice. I come over Christmas morning and we unwrap some presents and she makes a big breakfast with cream cheese braids, oh it’s so good, and then we sit around in new slippers and sweat pants all day, taking turns passing out on the couch and talking about things. It’s nice.”
    “That sounds nice,” Paul said and they started walking again. “My family decided it was too expensive to get presents for everybody and so they decided to explore that awful idea known as Yankee Swap?”
    “What’s that?” she asked.
    “It’s this horrible game where people keep trading gifts, stealing gifts until everyone has a gift they either don’t deserve or don’t want. I may have missed the joy in the concept, but it’s not Christmas. It’s an offensive April Fool’s Day joke.”
    “Chinese Christmas!” she said.
    Paul put on a thick drawl and said, “Don’t be racist. You’re in the south, it’s called Yankee Swap, because its unwanted and unwarranted.”
    They laughed and shook their heads, then went silent.
    “I like your jacket,” she said just before the silence became too much.
    “You told me that the night we met.”
    She nodded. “I suppose I did.”
    There was still plenty of traffic going up and down the street. It surprised him at first, but then he remembered Midnight mass and thought a little more. “What you were saying earlier, that’s why they hold Midnight Mass?”
    “I guess so.” Melinda shrugged.
    “It’s definitely interesting finding out why we do things, all these traditions that evolve from something that we don’t talk about anymore.”
    Melinda shook. It caught Paul off guard, was she that cold. He wrapped his arm around her and the awkward move was made more awkward by the fact that Melinda tensed. She didn’t say anything so he kept it there, and hoped she’d get used to it and relax. When they reached another end of