Chapter 40
Gillian finished in the bathroom and went downstairs to put the coffee on. The dog followed at her heels, wagging its tail and giving small yips. “Sorry Pearl. Let me finish this and I’ll let you out.” She got the coffeepot and turned to the sink to fill it.
Her head jerked back. Shards of glass and the stem of the wine glass sat in the sink. What the heck? Her mom had busted the glass and just left it? She shook her head and sighed, setting the pot on the counter.
The dog continued prancing and yipping at her feet.
“Okay. Let’s go.” She walked to the back door and let the dog out. It would be okay outside on its own for a few minutes. She went back into the kitchen and picked the pieces of glass from the sink, muttering to herself. What if Sarah had reached in and cut herself?
She’d just begun to fill the pot with water when the dog began barking and scratching.
“Give me a minute,” she said out loud. She still needed to get the can of coffee and fill the basket.
Pearl was having none of it. She began to ‘Arrroooo’ and was pounding on the back door.
“Sheeesh!” Gillian strode to the back door and flung the door open. Pearl was a fawn-colored blur on the floor shooting past her, toenails scrabbling on the hardwood floor as she shot for the stairway. Gillian heard her head for Sarah’s room.
What the hell spooked that dog so badly? She stuck her head out the doorway checking out the yard. Nothing. Go figure. Closing the door she glanced up at the ceiling hearing Sarah’s laughter. Just as well, the girl should be getting up anyway.
She finished making the coffee and wandered into the hall while she waited for it to drip through. Entering the living room, her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath. Maureen was passed out on the sofa, snoring softly. She didn’t even bother to go to bed? Just stayed up drinking and passing out down there? Oh God.
She spun around and stomped back into the kitchen. She flipped the cupboard door open, grabbed a coffee mug and slammed it soundly. Taking the lid off the sugar bowl, she clattered it onto the top of the stove. After she added her sugar and cream, she clattered the spoon onto the stove as well. Mom better get her act together. School was starting soon for Sarah, and her own classes were about to begin. This was two nights in a row she’d gone to bed drunk!
Sarah entered the room holding Pearl in her arms. “Where’s nana?” She set the dog down next to its dish and turned to her mother.
Gillian’s fingers gripped the box of cream tightly and her eyes narrowed, but she kept her voice light. “She’s still asleep, but I think she’s getting up soon. How about after breakfast we take the dog for a run in the park?” She took a sip of coffee and smiled at her daughter. “What do you think?”
Before Sarah could reply, Maureen appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair was totally disheveled and the dark bags under her eyes seemed even worse. She glanced at the two of them before walking silently over to the coffeepot and pouring a cup.
Seeing the wide-eyed puzzlement in Sarah’s eyes, Gillian sighed and turned to her mother. “Would you like something to eat, Mom? I was thinking of making bacon and eggs. Sometimes grease is the perfect cure for a hangover.”
Maureen looked down and muttered, “Sometimes you should mind your own business.”
“Oh?” Gillian reached in the fridge and grabbed a juice box. She plucked a chocolate granola bar from the cabinet and handed both items to Sarah. “Can you play upstairs or outside for a little while, moppet? Nana and I have to talk about some things.”
When Sarah disappeared outside and she saw her heading for the swing, Gillian turned and faced her mother. The older woman leaned against the counter, the mug of coffee clasped in both hands. “Mind my own business, huh?”
Maureen took a sip of coffee. “I’m fine, Gillian.”
“Fine? You’re anything but, Mom!” Gillian ran her hand through her hair. Things between us were fine when we went to Niagara Falls, sure; but since we’ve come back, you’ve been…” she blew out a blast of air.
“I’ve been what?”
Gillian’s eyes darted to the side, then back to her mother. “You’ve been… well, acting odd.” She ticked off her fingers. “You’re obsessed over this family history thing, you’ve been snappy at Sarah more than once, and good grief, you’ve passed out drunk twice in the last two days!”
“Oh, so now I can’t have a drink in my own house? Is that it?”
“I’m trying to figure out what the hell’s going on with you, Mom! Is this some kind of grief thing or something?”
“You leave your father out of it! As if you gave a damn about that man!”
The words struck Gillian like a blow. She staggered back and wiped her mouth. “How. Dare. You! What a rotten thing to say to me! He was my father!”
“He was my husband! And ye shamed him so!”
“Ashamed! Ashamed? Better I should have gotten an abortion? That would have made everything better?”
Maureen waved her hand in the air. “I didn’t say that, Gillian.” Dropping her hand, she took a sip of coffee. “But you have to admit, things would be a lot less complicated today…”
“Mom! What a crappy thing to say!”
Maureen’s eyes were steely when she looked at her daughter. “It’s true and you know it, Gillian.” She took a deep breath. “I wish your father hadn’t died. I wish I was never fool enough to buy this place.”
Gillian shook her head, dumbfounded. “Just yesterday we had a fight over you being sooo in looove with this Crawley place. Now you wish you never bought it? Mom, what’s the matter with you?” A sense of dread threaded across her heart. What the hell was with this woman? This—on top of Sarah acting weird—was too much to take.
Maureen looked at her daughter silently for a few moments. Her eyebrows drew together and she opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it firmly. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I tried sleeping upstairs but then I got up and came down here. I know I’ve been on edge, but I’m exhausted.” She sidled past Gillian. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going upstairs to lie down in Sarah’s room.”
“In Sarah’s room? Why not your own room?”
Maureen turned and faced her daughter. “They’re all my rooms, Gillian. This is my house.” She pushed past her daughter and went back up the stairs.
As she climbed them, she called back to her daughter, “Maybe I should have raised my voice to you years ago. I was too lenient with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have had a baby when you were a child yourself and created this mess we’re in.”
Gillian stood in the kitchen stock-still, her mouth hanging open in shocked silence.
Chapter 41
The screaming match between Mommy and Nana rang through the air in the backyard. Sarah sat on the swing staring down, tears rolling off her cheeks onto the ground below her. It was all her fault. She shouldn’t have asked for a dog. She shouldn’t have asked for the room in the attic. Nana and Mommy were yelling at each other because she had done something wrong.
Her shoulders trembled as she clung to the ropes. At the light touch on her arm, she choked back a sob and lifted her head. Agnes and Alice stood at her sides, their eyes soft and welling with tears. They were still in the same dresses and the bows in their hair were still almost falling off. Sarah noticed, but was too upset to say anything about that.
“It’s okay, Sarah.” Alice rubbed Sarah’s shoulder.
“No it isn’t. It’s all my fault that Nana and Mommy are yelling at each other.” She twisted in the swing sloughing off Alice’s hand.
Agnes stepped toward the house and stood staring in the window. Her hand rose and she pointed inside. “It’s not your nana, Sarah. It’s Bridey. I hate her.”
Sarah walked over to Agnes and shook her head watching the two women inside the house. “Where? I don’t see her. There’s just Nana and Mommy.” She rose on her tiptoes to see more of the room, almost to the entrance of
the dining room. It was definitely Nana and Mommy and they were still banging around in the kitchen, their voices loud.
A small hand closed over her fingers and squeezed. Alice was now next to her. “She’s there, Sarah.”
Agnes slipped her hand over Sarah’s. “She wants you to leave.”
Chapter 42
Maureen was waiting at the kitchen table later that afternoon when Gillian and Sarah came in the front door. They both eyed her stiffly as they hung up their coats. She couldn’t blame either of them; that morning blow-up between her and Gillian had been horrendous. As her daughter and granddaughter puttered around the kitchen and put some food down for the dog, she rolled her mug of tea in her hands.
Still looking down, she said, “I’m sorry.”
Gillian paused and looked at her. “It’s okay, Mom.” Her voice was flat.
Shaking her head slowly, Maureen said, “No, honey, it’s not okay. I said some terrible things to you this morning.” She still couldn’t look her daughter in the eye, she was so ashamed. “And about Sarah, too… I was horrid.” Her voice hitched. “I don’t know what came over me… I’m sorry, girls.” She looked up, her eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered.
Gillian crossed the kitchen and bent over hugging her. “You’ve been through a lot, Mom. And I was out of line too. I should have held my peace yesterday when you were talking about Crawley’s and such.” She gave a short laugh. “Maybe we’re just trying to catch up with our lives or something? This has been one hell of a set of changes you know.”
Maureen pressed into her daughter’s arm. She’d raised a good woman. She glanced over to Sarah, who was on her knees petting Pearl as the pooch tried to eat. Sarah was watching the two of them. She gestured, and Sarah stood and flew into her other arm. The three of them stood gathered into each other.
“Let’s order a pizza, what do you say?” she said when Sarah and Gillian smiled and stepped away.
“Sounds good to me.”
After Gillian placed the order, Maureen said, “Someone’s coming tomorrow to open up that third floor.”
“Well, don’t complain about the heat bill this winter, Mom. That’s got to be a pretty big area up there.” Gillian grinned.
“Do I get that room, Nana?” asked Sarah. “If you want it, it’s okay though… I don’t want you to get mad…”
Maureen tousled the child’s hair. “Someone’s got to sleep up there. We’ll figure it out.”
“What’s the rush, Mom?” asked Gillian.
“Well, I slept in Sarah’s room after I went back upstairs this morning, and I woke up feeling like a million bucks. I don’t know what it is about me and my bedroom, but I don’t…” she glanced away for a second. “You’d think it was haunted or something, maybe.” She gave a snort. “Anyway, maybe the feng shui or something about that room is just bad for me—I don’t know.”
“More painting for me, huh?” Gillian said, smiling.
“Probably both of us. My old room will be a guestroom—”
“For company we don’t like!” said Gillian with a smirk. “If you hate the room, they won’t stay too long, eh?”
Maureen gave a short nod. “Yeah, something like that. Anyway, we’ll get the other room opened up tomorrow and figure out what needs to be done.”
“Okay.”
Maureen tilted her head at her daughter. “It was sort of funny when I was calling for a handyman. I was just going through the phone book, I spoke to two different guys—each time they seemed willing to come and do the job until I gave them the address.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. The first guy, when I told him where, said, ‘Sorry, lady; something’s come up. I won’t be able to help you’, and he hung right up.”
“Pretty rude, huh?”
“Yes, but then it got strange. When I was speaking to the second fella and told him the address, he tried to beg off too!”
“What?”
“Yeah! It was pretty weird. I told him I was a widow and really needed help with this house… and if he wouldn’t do the work, who should I call?” She gave a small smile. “I laid it on pretty thick, trying to get this guy to come over, you know?”
“So, he’s coming?”
Maureen shook her head. “No… He gave me the name of a third guy—he’s in the phone book too. He said that they used to work together as repairmen for the university looking after their rental houses, and that fellow would do the work.”
“Mom, this is pretty damn odd, you know.”
Maureen nodded. “Well, I phoned the third guy and left a voicemail. He called back just before you guys came home. He didn’t sound too excited for the work either.” She gave her head a small shake and her eyebrows rose high for a moment. “But he said he’d come by tomorrow when I told him it was a simple job of just popping open the plywood covering the stairway to the third floor.” She shrugged. “He knew what I was talking about, and said it wouldn’t take him any more than fifteen minutes.”
Gillian sat back, looking at her mother. “You’re not having me on here, are you?”
Maureen shook her head. “No, I’m not. Scout’s honor.”
Gillian shivered. “That gives me the creeps.” She looked around the kitchen. “What did we get ourselves into when we bought this place?”
Chapter 43
Maureen was home alone when the handyman showed up. Gillian and Sarah had to be out for most of the day. Sarah needed to be registered for kindergarten, and Gillian wanted to get the jump on her orientation next week by going through the campus. They packed a lunch and were planning on having a picnic on the shore of Lake Ontario when Gillian was finished.
Maureen was waiting in the kitchen, finishing another cup of tea. She had moved some pillows and blankets to the living room last night and slept there. She woke up this morning the most relaxed and refreshed since they’d moved in. Her mouth twitched in a small smile—having nothing to drink for the last day and a half had nothing to do with that! Nooo… Pearl the pug was curled up under the table softly snoring and performing foot-warming duty at the same time.
She heard the truck pull into the driveway and the steps on the veranda before the doorbell rang, so she wasn’t startled. When she moved her feet to get up, Pearl rose, stretched and yawned, and ticked after her as she went to answer the door. Maureen looked over her shoulder at the dog. Stranger at the door, doorbell buzzing and hardly a peep from her. But put her in her bedroom or out back and the dog would go bonkers.
“You’ve got to work on your security skills, Pearl.”
Pearl just looked up at her, eyes asking for a treat.
With a sigh, Maureen crossed the foyer and opened the front door.
“Mrs. McDougall?” the man asked. “I’m Jeff Comstock.” He wore a red ball cap, and had a goatee flecked with gray. She felt the hard calluses in his hand when they shook, her fingers almost lost in his paw. She tilted her head and smiled. He was an overgrown teddy bear.
She took him right into the kitchen and bade him to take a seat.
“Would you share a cup of tea, Mr. Comstock?” she asked.
“It’s Jeff, but sure.”
“I’m Maureen,” she said with a smile, pouring him a cup.
He looked at her from the corner of his eye as he added his milk and sugar. “Wait till you get my bill, then we’ll see if I stay on a first-name basis, huh?” He smiled as he said it.
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 22
