Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

opened—it was wine, something deep red with a spicy scent that made him want to sneeze—before he started asking questions. As soon as Sommer had pronounced the wine acceptable and the waitress had taken their dinner orders, Dean braced himself to learn the story behind Sommer’s sudden arrival.
“What did you do with your place?” he asked, that question being the most pressing other than the one he was still half-afraid to ask. Starting off with do you love me like I love you probably wasn’t a great idea, so best to begin with the easy ones.
Picking up his glass, Sommer took a sip of wine. “I sold it.”
Dean blinked. “You sold it?”
“Yeah. Or rather, it’s on the market. It’s not sold yet, but there’s a couple of folks in the area who’ve had their eyes on it for a while now. I think I’ll get a fair offer.”
“Why?” Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had Sommer sold his house and his business and moved several hundred miles for his own reasons, or for the chance to be with Dean?
God, I hope he didn’t do it just for me. He didn’t think he could shoulder the full responsibility for that degree of upheaval in Sommer’s life.
Sommer shrugged. “Because you were right when you said I didn’t like it there. I didn’t. I mean, Chapel Hill’s a great town, and I loved the winemaking part of it, but I hated the business side of things. Plus I was terrible at it. I’ve been wanting out for a while, actually.” Sommer stared out the window for a moment before meeting Dean’s gaze again. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think that’s one reason I was so upset when you suggested that my mother was dead. Part of me has been waiting all this time for her and Dad to come back and take the load of the business off my back.”
Not knowing what to say to that, Dean took Sommer’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Sommer gave him a faint smile in return.
“I saw this as a perfect chance to make the changes I’ve been needing in my life,” Sommer continued, watching Dean’s face. “A chance to follow my heart for once.”
Something deep in Dean’s gut pulled tight. Relief that Sommer’s decision hadn’t been entirely about him? Fear—or possibly excitement—over what was in Sommer’s heart to lead him here?
Dean wasn’t sure. Nor was he sure he was ready for the answer, so he ignored the implications in Sommer’s words. “What about the body? Did they find out for sure if it’s your mom?”
“The DNA tests will take a while to come back, but I know it’s her. I can feel it.” The corner of Sommer’s mouth hitched up. “I never told you this, but you remember that EVP we caught, the first time we saw the ghost in the upstairs room? I thought I recognized my mother’s voice. I dismissed it at the time, figuring it was just my imagination. But looking back, I guess I knew it was her even then. I’m sorry I gave you such shit about it.”
It warmed Dean’s heart that Sommer would still feel guilty about their fight, but he didn’t want Sommer to continue beating himself up over something Dean had long since put behind him. “Don’t worry about it. That’s ancient history now.” He gave Sommer a reassuring smile. “So, have they been able to figure out how your mom died? Was it her cancer? I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but you know you can, right?”
Turning his hand in Dean’s, Sommer laced their fingers together. “I know, and I appreciate that more than I can tell you. To answer your question, they can’t pinpoint an exact cause yet, but they believe she died of natural causes.”
Tilting his head, Dean gave Sommer a cautious look. “Then it must’ve been your dad who buried her, like you said before.”
“Most likely.” Sommer leaned forward, his voice dropping low. “When I was growing up they always talked about a natural burial. Just being put in the ground, without embalming or coffins or anything. Which is probably illegal.” He smiled, and it was a sad smile this time. “I can see my father doing that. Burying her the way she wanted, without even a grave marker, then just leaving everything behind. He always was a hopeless romantic.”
“I don’t see what’s romantic about burying your wife and then leaving, without even telling anyone—including your son, for fuck’s sake—what happened.” Dean grimaced, angry on Sommer’s behalf. “That’s just fucked up.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t