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Dramatic moments aside, it was two weeks later that I moved in. As promised, the house came fully furnished — although I made sure to arrange for my own mattress — and it was a good thing that I liked the decor, because the furniture was apparently chosen for weight. Even the dining room chairs were cumbersome to move, and the bed itself proved virtually impossible to shift. Whoever decorated the house originally clearly was an individual of strong opinions, even if those opinions were not linked to a traditional aesthetic sense. I personally found the whole effect bracing, which was a pleasant surprise.
The house itself was fairly modest: three stories, if you counted the basement, which I certainly most would. Three bedrooms, two full baths, a reasonably decent-sized yard; it could host a family easily, but I never found any sign that a child had ever lived on the premises. For that matter, there were few signs of the past renters that Wayne had told me about. When they left, they apparently took everything of theirs with them, up to and including their trash.
I did not miss their absence, even as ghosts. Particularly as ghosts, really. Their spectral presence might have gotten in the way of my appreciation, and I wanted nothing to distract me. For you see, this house was marvelous.