“No?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Milo’s offered me a job.”
“Working for him as a clairvoyant?” He seemed skeptical.
“No. It’s actually a job he was offered but turned down. I’m going to be on TV, hosting a weekly show on paranormal activities.”
“Isn’t there already a Ghost Hunters show on the tube?”
It was the response she’d expected from him. “Not like that show. It will be in a talk-show format and will have scientists and experts in various paranormal fields as guests, along with laypeople who have experienced various phenomena. We are hoping it will be serious and fun at the same time.”
“A talk show, huh? Like your husband.”
“It will only be on once a week, not every day. They’ve scheduled it during the same time slot as Grant’s show.” She winked at him. “Whitecastle versus Whitecastle is how some of the early ads are going to play.”
“And how is the other Whitecastle versus Whitecastle coming along?”
“We’ve reached a settlement; the divorce should be final soon. How about your divorce?”
“It was final last week.”
Emma studied his face. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Phil?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but now I think it’s a very good thing.” He smiled at her. For a few moments, neither of them said anything.
“I came up here for two reasons, Emma.” He pulled a folded document from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “That’s the deed to the old Reynolds homestead. It’s yours now.”
Emma looked down at the recorded deed. “But I didn’t want it, Phil. That’s not why I went down there.”
“I know. But Glen, Susan, and I want you and your family to have it. Though, trust me, my part in this is purely selfish. I figure if you own property down there, you might come down more often. That could solve part of the distance problem.”
She blushed, and not just from his generosity.
“You can build a nice cabin on that piece of land. I can help you find the right architect and builder. It could be a vacation home for your family and a solid place for Granny to haunt.”
Emma laughed through tears. “I think they would love that, Phil. Granny especially. I just don’t know what to say.”
“That brings me to the second reason for my visit. How about saying yes to my dinner invitation tonight? We have a lot to celebrate: your new career, my divorce, your settlement, the property. It can be a new start for a new type of relationship.”
When they returned from dinner, it was late and the Miller house was dark, save for the kitchen light. They entered through the back door. Archie left his bed to greet them.
“Thank you for the lovely time, Phil.”
Putting a hand on each of his shoulders, she reached her face up and kissed him on the lips. It was followed by another, then by a whole series of kisses, until they were wrapped in each other’s arms. After the longest kiss ended, Emma pulled away.
In the dim light, Phil chuckled. “Look at us. We’re both middle-aged and still living at home.”
Emma placed a fingertip on his lips. “Shh, you’ll wake my parents.”
Taking him by the hand, she led him up the back staircase.
“Did you and Phillip have a good time?”
Emma jumped at the voice. It was four thirty in the morning, and she’d just said goodbye to Phil Bowers at the back door, sending him on his way with little sleep. Elizabeth Miller was seated at the kitchen counter, reading the paper and drinking coffee. Next to her was the ghost of Granny Apples.
“Mother, why are you up so early?”
“I often get up this early. Granny and I have lovely visits in the morning. You and your father just don’t know it because you both sleep like rocks.”
Emma looked out the window and watched Phil walk down the driveway toward his truck. When she turned back to her mother, she knew her face was flushed with embarrassment. Elizabeth noticed and smiled.
“You think I never knew about all the times Grant Whitecastle tiptoed up those backstairs? Or the times Nate does it now?”
She turned a page of the newspaper, giving her daughter time to let the information sink in.
“It’s different for you girls today. I understand that. Your father may or may not, so I never told him.” She looked up. “But the next time Phillip Bowers comes to town, let’s put him in the guest room, at least for appearances. That way, we can send him back to Julian with a proper hot breakfast.”
Emma wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her cheek.
“There will be a next time, won’t there?”
“Yes, Mother, I’m pretty certain there will be many next times with Phil Bowers.”
Emma poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking it and watching Elizabeth. She had weathered losing her son, bearing her grief with dignity and grace. Emma wasn’t sure she could do the same if she ever lost Kelly. She glanced at Granny and Granny nodded back, indicating it was time. She disappeared.
“Mother, Granny and I have a surprise for you.” Elizabeth looked up, puzzled.
Emma guided her mother to a chair in the dim dining room. She stood behind her and placed her hands gently against the sides of her mother’s face.
“Look straight ahead, Mother. Relax your mind and your eyes, release all your thoughts and concerns.”
“Is this some sort of meditation exercise?”
“Just do as I say.” Emma massaged her mother’s temples, willing Elizabeth to see through her eyes. “Do you see anything at the end of the table?”
“No. Wait. Something’s shimmering.”
Emma looked toward the end of the table. Granny was there, coming into view. “Keep looking, but stay relaxed while you do.”
“Oh my, Emma. Is that Granny?” Elizabeth’s voice, though barely above a whisper, was filled with awe.
“Yes, Mother, it is.”
“I can see her. I can really see her.”
“We have another gift for you, Elizabeth,” said the ghost.
Another flickering entity started taking shape next to Granny. A smaller image.
“Oh my!” Elizabeth’s hand went to her mouth. “It’s my Paulie. My dear son.”
Emma looked at the ghost of her dead brother as he was when he died at the age of eleven. He was standing next to the spirit of Ish Reynolds, holding her hand.
“Yes, Mother, it’s Paulie. He’s come to visit, just this once.”
The image of the young boy smiled and waved. “Hello, Mother.”
Elizabeth slipped a shaking hand over one of Emma’s hands as it rested on her face. She squeezed it.
“Thank you, Emma. Once was all I needed.”
The End
Author’s Note
While the characters in Ghost à la Mode are fictional, Julian, California, is a very real place. Located in the mountains an hour north of San Diego and about a three-hour drive from Los Angeles, this sleepy tourist destination is a reminder of the colorful history of California’s gold rush days in Southern California.
Readers who visit Julian will be able to follow Emma White-
castle’s steps throughout the town, as I have made every attempt to portray it as it really is today, right down to the pay toilets located behind city hall. See firsthand the Rong Branch Restaurant and Saloon, the Old Julian Drug Store, and the Pioneer Museum. Sit in the park where Emma first encountered the ghost of Garrett Bell, and rest on one of the benches nestled among the graves in the Pioneer Cemetery.
There is, however, one character in the book who is not fictional: Albert Robinson. Albert Robinson was a freed slave who came to Julian after the Civil War. Together, he a
nd his wife, Margaret, started a restaurant and built the Hotel Robinson, which is now the charming Julian Hotel, and it is reported that the ghost of Mr. Robinson does indeed haunt the hotel, especially guest room 10.
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