A Ghastly Misunderstanding

“Coffee and cigarettes are not breakfast,” Regina said.

      “Well, the closest diner is 35 minutes away and they don’t serve hash browns,” Maverick answered while sitting at the edge of the empty grave.

      “I promise I will make you good ol’ American style breakfast after we are done.” Regina rested her hand on Maverick’s shoulder as if to console him. Maverick turned his face to look up at her. Regina had the habit of offering soft smiles, ones that bring reassurance and peace. While staring at her colorless face, Maverick couldn't help but remember that odd and vague description Osmond had given him about his mom. What a shitshow really...

      “She is one of those women that other women use to envy when they were all young. The movie trope of the nice and sweet town girl with a mysterious aura. She is refined and classy, but never snobbish or insensitive. People talk a lot about her, but she is just...too reserved,” Osmond said. He looked so out of it, as if talking about his mom was an awkward and untouched subject. That night they were sitting inside Osmond’s car surrounded by the foggy countryside. Maverick wanted to stay back for some minutes to collect his confidence, but it was slowly slipping away the more he stared at his boyfriend’s unsure eyes.

      “Man, you look like you have seen a ghost,” he said.

      “What an unsettling but accurate wording,” Osmond whispered while letting out an awkward chuckle.

      “What is going on Os?” Maverick tried his best to talk in a more serious tone. “You see love. My mum is a fantastic woman —"

      “Yes, so you have tried to say.” Maverick cut Osmond off.

      “Exactly! But she is not perfect—”

      “Is anyone’s mother perfect though?” Maverick said again. After that, silence filled the car. Yet, the crickets from the outside and the white noise surrounding them in the closed space were suffocating. It all intensified Maverick’s feeling of losing his cool.

      “Screw the movie tropes and what other women think Osmond! How would you describe your own mother?” Maverick turned his body the best he could to stare at Osmond with wide and expecting eyes.

      “My mother...she leaves doors and windows open when they are supposed to stay closed, she also doesn’t turn the light switch off when leaving a room. She is a sweet person but also a mischievous prankster with a broken sense of humor. You would get along in that aspect. I don’t have pictures of her. My father and I are the only people she likes to see.” Osmond said.

      “Okay, that wasn’t so bad was it.” Maverick sighed running his hand through his blond hair.

      “Maverick my mother died when I was born,” Osmond said. Cue another suffocating silence and Maverick’s confidence draining from every inch of his body.

      “Osmond, what the actual fuck? Then who the hell are we meeting here? Because your father lives in London and the last time I checked we are in Downton-Abbey-looking-ass countryside! Why are you being so fucking cryptic?” Maverick was officially losing it.

      “Mav, my mom is a literal ghost! She swore on her deathbed that she was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I mean she is dead, and her body is at our local graveyard, but you can see her and interact with her perfectly fine.” Maverick was silent, shellshocked really. This made Osmond feel on edge, he knew this was an awful idea. He shouldn’t have brought Maverick here,

      God, what was he thinking! In the middle of his inner turmoil Osmond tried to start the car and get them out of this mess, his hands clammy and shaky. But before he could turn the car to life, Maverick was quick to place his hand on top of his to stop him from turning the key.

      “Is this like...a normal occurrence in your family? Haunting their children while living in Victorian houses?” To anyone who didn’t know Maverick they would think he was trying to lighten up the mood, Osmond knew him well enough to know that these were genuine questions.

      “Well not exactly. Only the main family branch can do so. We sometimes see my grandpapa when he comes to visit. He doesn’t discuss the mechanics behind the whole ghost situation with me, but he does with mum.” Osmond said.

 

      Osmond was right, Maverick and Regina bonded over dark humor and annoying pranks performed to annoy the hell out of Os. And as much as Maverick heard his husband complain about their schemes and plotting, Osmond would confess to secretly loving the relationship he and his mom had. It felt domestic and harmonious, and he would catch Osmond occasionally smiling and having a dopey face when the bickering in the kitchen started over what breakfast-style food they would eat that morning.

      Regina was a beautiful and elegant woman, and when first getting to know her, Maverick understood why Osmond had started with that absurd description he had first given him. Regina and he had bonded over the four years they had all been living together, and even though she mostly kept to herself and didn’t butt in Osmond and his affairs, Regina was always a welcoming and supporting presence at home. Today was a reminder of that.

      Regina and Maverick had woken up early to finally fill up the grave. They had decided the morning would be the most appropriate time seeing that Osmond always came out at the early hours of the day to look over the meadow. Osmond had left them unexpectedly last Sunday, and after five agonizing days, Regina and Maverick finally decided to prepare an empty grave in the meadow for him. The morning sun rising by the horizon made Regina and Maverick hope for Osmond to walk through the front gates of the house, to have him back home. The foggy day mixing with the first rays of the sun made the meadow look like a watercolor, dazzling and vibrantly pastel. Osmond would have loved it. Maverick could have sworn this exact imaginary was in a museum back in New York.

      “Need a break from filling the hole back up?” Regina crossed her arms over her chest while looking down at the process.

      “Sure,” Maverick sighed. “Any last words before I continue?”

      “Yes,” Regina cleared her throat. “Son, you were supposed to live longer but...how dare you leave us like this? I do not worry because I know you will just turn into a ghost and I will just scold you then. This is just a formality young man!” Maverick nodded his head agreeing with Regina’s words.

      “Don’t think that I made Maverick dig and fill a hole for you just because I wanted to. Bloody hell! We had to pay respect to you somehow seeing that your body is probably left in a ditch. Osmond, I am so disappointed how could—” Regina’s rant was cut short by a voice behind them.

      “What the hell is going on?” the voice said.

      “Golly this is the first step! The voices,” Regina whispered to Maverick. Her voice sounded shocked and caught off-guard. “Oh my God, he has decided to choose the path of haunting his children at Victorian houses?” Maverick whispered back, his eyes wide.

      “Are you both dumb? I can literally hear your awful attempts at whispering!” Osmond yelled. He placed both of his hands on their shoulders and tried to turn them around to face him.

      “I can’t see your colorless face Os! I am not ready. It took so long to look Regina in the eyes, I am still traumatized!” Maverick screamed. He lets go of the shovel and covers his eyes with his forearm.

      “You dramatic dumbass, I am not dead!” Osmond shook him.

      “You really are not,” Regina touched her son’s cheek. “Osmond you feel warm to the touch, don’t tell me you caught a fever now!”

      “Heaven’s mom, I am perfectly fine I just ran over because I saw you both in front of a giant hole and thought you were plotting something odd. This whole thing is bananas!” Osmond said. Regina and Maverick looked at each other, guilt consuming their expressions. “Now, will you explain why you dug an awfully big hole in the meadow? You just ruined the entire scenery!” Regina pushed Maverick forward with the clear intention of making him explain the entire situation. Maverick looked at her desperately, begging to not be put in such an awkward position because any sort of reason given would sound ridiculous now. Osmond waited for the two clowns to make up their minds while staring them down with a judgmental gaze.

      “Look, sweetheart—”

      “You never call me that, don’t make things weird Maverick,” Osmond talked over him.

      “Okay, but what do you expect us to do? We wake up Sunday with the hopes of having our weekly family brunch and you are just nowhere to be found? No notes, no phone calls, no nothing! Your car is not parked outside, half of your suits are gone—and your two fancy pairs of shoes too, don’t think I didn’t notice that sir—and expect us not to worry about your whereabouts? On top of that, the fact that you disappear for five whole days and still no updates?” Maverick says and Regina pats him in the back as a sign of moral support.

      "So, did we think you died? Yes. Were we doing a body-less funeral in your favorite spot of the place? Absolutely. Is my back hurting from digging a hole, and then covering said hole? Definitely!” Maverick was poking Osmond’s chest with every affirmation.

      Osmond turned to look at his mother incredulously. He was expecting some sort of signal from his mom to start laughing, or that this was one of their awful pranks, or even for her to be outraged by Maverick’s conclusion. But the only thing he got was his mom’s nervous stare, jumping from Maverick and back to him, followed by her bad habit of biting the sides of her thumbnail.

      “Love, I left for London for the week. I had the meetings with the professors I told you about. Plus, I had dinner with my dad at the Ritz because he was introducing me to his new business partner. We even talked about how you wanted to go to the Ritz when we get the chance to go back to London!” Osmond was very much confused at this point. Maverick just stared blankly at him. Osmond stared back, just as faced. Regina was in shock by what Osmond had just said and after a couple of seconds of no reaction from the two boys, she decided to grab Maverick’s face and forcibly turn him towards her.

      “And you forgot all of this because...?” Regina asked incredulously.

      “Well you see, now that Os is refreshing my memory, I believe he did mention a thing or two,” Maverick said.

      “A thing or two? He told you all of his plans, and here you got me worried sick!”

      “Okay, mum wait! In his defense, I did tell him in the morning as I was leaving so he was very groggy and sleepy and... well you know how Mav is, always forgetful.” Osmond pulled on Maverick’s sleeve in a weak attempt to get him off his mother's ice-cold touch. Regina let Maverick’s cheeks take a break, and he stumbled around to hide behind Osmond. She gave him a side-eye and turned around. If she wasn’t mad at him, Maverick would comment on how great her ghostly figure looks when the sun is shining against her hair and the colors of the meadow surround her, but now was really not the time. She turned back to face the two boys and Maverick jumped a little, Osmond just rolled his eyes.

      “Well seeing that our lovely Osmond is more than alive—he is home, he had an amazing meal at the Ritz, plus his mood is better than average so I suppose his meeting went great—we really should finish this hole and cover it up?” Regina smiled looking directly at Maverick. She had that sly look on her face, the kind of look she had after she was done plotting her schemes.

      “Ha, yeah I guess we don’t need it.” Maverick tried to laugh.

      “Yes, we really don’t, it is ruining the entire view. I would hate waking up tomorrow and being greeted with the sight of this,” Osmond sighed. He really wasn’t expecting to be welcomed like this after a whole week.

      “I will have it done in a blink of an eye, don’t worry!”

      As Maverick worked on filling the hole, he watched the love of his life walk inside the house and Regina curling herself in his side. Maverick was glad Osmond doesn’t look colorless. That his ugly purple knitted sweater was really there, and that his pale skin was not paler, nor cold to the touch. Thank heavens he really was home.