Maybelle's Affair

by Terri Reid

  Chapter Four

  Mary woke up, slightly disoriented, and searched her nightstand for her phone. Reaching for it, she clicked it on to see that over an hour had passed since she’d laid down. She put the phone down, closed her eyes and slowly stretched. It had only been a short nap, but she felt like a new person. Flipping the blankets off, she slid out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror.

  “It didn’t take my hair long to go into bed mode,” she said to her reflection as she picked up a comb and smoothed down her wayward hair.

  “It doesn’t look that bad,” Mike inserted, appearing behind her in the mirror.

  She paused, the comb still in the air, and met his eyes. “You know, someone with a weaker heart could have had an issue with your habit of appearing suddenly.”

  “A weak heart or a weak bladder,” he replied with a smile. “Just wanted to let you know that Mikey’s fussing.”

  “Perfect timing,” she said, putting the comb down and walking with Mike out of the room. “So, I had this weird dream.”

  Mike shook his head. “I’m an angel now,” he said. “I’m not supposed to hear about those kinds of dreams.” Then he paused and winked at her. “But if you happened to write it out in your diary and leave the pages open…”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “It wasn’t that kind of dream,” she replied. “I dreamt that I was in the house across the street.”

  “The haunted house that you now own?” Mike asked. “With the ugly walls and the creepy thing in the parlor?”

  “Yes, that one,” Mary agreed. “And there was a man there, Gilbert, who asked me to have a seat in the parlor.”

  “Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” Mike replied in a sinister voice.

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Mary said. “It was like he was this meek and mild assistant. Nothing sinister at all. And then Maybelle appeared as a young woman.”

  “So, is this a dream or more information about the house?” Mike asked.

  Mary, her hand on the nursery door, paused and looked at Mike. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one to answer that question?”

  Mike shrugged. “Not lately,” he said. “I’m just a guardian angel at this point. A very good-looking guardian angel, I might add.”

  She grinned and opened the door. “And Mikey appreciates that,” she teased.

  She walked over to the bassinet. The baby looked up and smiled at her. Her heart melted. “How can you not just fall in love with a smiling baby?” she asked.

  Mike looked down at the baby over her shoulder and shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said.

  She picked Mikey up and brought him over to the changing table. “So,” she said to Mike as she undressed the baby. “How are we supposed to figure out what’s going on in that house if neither of us can see the truth?”

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I guess we could ask Maybelle.”

  She nodded as she pulled a few wipes out of the container. “But, Maybelle always seems to be warning me away from the parlor,” Mary replied. “At first I thought it was just my imagination, but now after this dream, I think there might be more to it.”

  “So, the dream was informational,” Mike said. “Maybe you ought to just go into the parlor and confront whatever’s in there.”

  “Do you remember the last time we were in the parlor?” Mary asked, recalling the ghostly voices and paranormal activity they’d experienced together when they initially explored the house.

  “Okay, yeah, that was creepy,” he admitted. “But we got good information from it.”

  “And we got scared nearly to death,” Mary added.

  “I’m already dead,” Mike reminded her with a grin. “But, I get what you mean. That room, both of those rooms, really freaked me out.”

  He paused and then brightened. “But last time we did it in the dark,” he said with a smile.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think sunlight is going to make it any less creepy,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going over this afternoon, with Katie?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we’re going to pick up the paint and maybe get started on the walls,” she said. “If Mikey cooperates.”

  “You’re going to bring Mikey into a painted room?” Mike asked, aghast.

  “No,” she replied. “Bradley brought over his travel bassinette and the extra baby monitor and set it up for me. He’ll be in the master bedroom on the first floor, far away from the smells of paint.”

  “Well, maybe you and Katie could figure out the parlor mystery while you’re there,” he suggested.

  She nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” she agreed. “But I’m hoping the most frightening thing we see is the awful color on those walls.”

  Chapter Five

  Slipping out of the car, Mary turned to Katie Brennan, her friend, and neighbor. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “I just have to run into the bank.”

  “Take your time,” Katie insisted, glancing back at the sleeping baby in the car seat. “He’s down for the count. I think the paint store did him in.”

  “Me too,” Mary grinned. “Who knew there would be so many choices for white.”

  Katie nodded. “I know,” she agreed. “I don’t know how anyone makes up their minds.”

  “We nearly didn’t,” Mary laughed and then she started to close the door. “Okay, back in a few.”

  After closing the door, Mary hurried into the bank. The receptionist greeted her with a smile. “Hi Mrs. Alden,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  Mary nodded. “I need to make a deposit,” she said. “But I also have to make some changes to my business account.”

  The receptionist looked down at a calendar and them smiled up at Mary. “Daphne is open right now,” she said. “Do you want to see her first?”

  “That would be great,” Mary said.

  “Third office to your left,” the receptionist said. “You can walk right in.”

  As Mary hurried down the hall, she dug the paperwork out of the diaper bag that had now become her purse. Without thinking, still focused on finding the papers, she pushed the door open and walked in.

  “Oh!” Daphne exclaimed.

  Mary looked up and was surprised to find Daphne meeting with a someone else. “I’m so sorry,” Mary apologized, stepping backward, “I was told I could walk right in. My mistake. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.”

  Daphne seemed very flustered, looking back and forth between Mary and the gentleman in the office. The man didn’t seem flustered at all, Mary thought. He just stared at Mary with a cool, assessing stare and nodded slowly.

  “I’ll be done in a minute,” Daphne promised. “We were just about finished here.”

  Mary stepped back and closed the door behind her, wondering if she should hurry back to the lobby and deposit her checks while she was waiting. She was just about to walk back to the lobby when the door opened to Daphne’s office, and the gentleman exited. He nodded to Mary with a smile and then walked down the hall.

  “You can come in, Mary,” Daphne said, and when Mary entered added, “Now what can I do to help you?”

  A half hour later, Mary stood in the middle of the living room in the old Victorian house with her friend and neighbor, Katie Brennan. She bounced Mikey in her arms as she slowly looked at the walls. They had already carried in the painting supplies and placed them in the corner of the living room. Mary walked over and switched on the baby monitor Bradley had placed on the mantle, then turned to her friend. “Well, what do you think?” Mary asked, biting back a smile.

  She hadn’t told her friend about her dislike of the brightly-painted turquoise walls, and she wondered if Katie’s desire to be polite would win over her basic honesty.

  “It certainly is blue,” Katie replied, slowly turning and looking at the color that was surrounding them on every single wall surface. She shrugged and took a deep breath. “It’s not bad. It’s got a southwestern feel to it.”


  Mary glanced over at her friend and shook her head. “The truth, Katie Brennan. The honest to goodness truth,” Mary insisted.

  Katie sighed. “They are just awful,” she said plainly, as she shook her head and winced. “It’s not even a pretty turquoise.”

  “Maybelle said she painted them this way because her father hated this color,” Mary said.

  “Well, he might have been a terrible man,” Katie replied. “But he obviously had good taste.”

  Chuckling, Mary walked through the empty room out into the large front hallway. She glanced at the door leading to the front parlor with a little trepidation.

  “Is that the one?” Katie asked, following Mary’s glance.

  “Yes,” Mary said, nodding slowly. “That’s the door that keeps opening and closing on its own.”

  “Creepy,” Katie said. Then she turned to Mary. “But, that shouldn’t bother you, right? You’re like the queen of the “I see dead people,” right?”

  Mary transferred Mikey to her other arm and kept bouncing him. “Well, before this guy was born I was,” she said. “Then I was put on ghostbusting hiatus, so my ability was taken away from me.”

  “So, we’re standing in a haunted house, and neither one of us knows what’s going on?” Katie asked.

  Mary shrugged. “Well, Maybelle is around here somewhere,” she explained. “And I don’t think she would let anything happen to us.”

  “You can see Maybelle?” Katie asked.

  “Only because she wants me to see her,” Mary said. “If she wanted, you could see her too.”

  “Yeah, that’s okay,” Katie replied. “I prefer to be one of those people who live happily in their ignorance when it comes to ghosts.” She looked at the large manila envelope protruding from the diaper bag Mary was holding. “So, that envelope is from Maybelle?”

  Mary nodded. “Yes, this is the next person on the list,” she explained. “Generally, she appears and hands it to me. So, it’s a little weird that she just left it on the table in the hallway.”

  Katie shrugged. “I’m perfectly fine that she left it there for you,” she insisted. “Really, really fine. If I never have a paranormal experience, I’ll be totally okay with that. “

  Just then, the parlor door swung slowly open.

  “Did you not hear what I just said?” Katie asked with a tremor in her voice. She edged over next to Mary. “So, what do we do next?”

  Mary glanced at the cans of paint and the drop cloths placed in the corner of the room; then she looked back at the parlor door. Suddenly, it slammed closed, shaking the windows in the hallway.

  She hated to admit it, but she was spooked too. Since she couldn’t see the ghost causing the trouble, her flight or fight instinct had blossomed into full gear and right now, her instinct was definitely flight. “We ask Bradley to come over later tonight and help paint,” she suggested.

  “Good idea,” Katie said, “because I just realized I’m a paranormal wimp.”

  Mary took a deep breath and looked up the stairs. “I, um, left Mikey’s extra bassinet in the master bedroom,” she said. “Should we…”

  The soft sound drifted into the hallway from the baby monitor on the mantle in the living room.

  “What’s that?” Katie whispered nervously.

  “It’s coming from the monitor,” Mary whispered back.

  Pressed arm to arm, they slowly made their way back into the living room.

  Hush little baby don’t say a word. Papa’s going to buy you a mocking bird.

  The frail, high-pitched woman’s voice came from the monitor. Mary felt a chill run down her spine. She didn’t think it sounded like Maybelle, who else could it be?

  “Where’s the other half of the monitor?” Katie whispered.

  “In the bedroom, next to the bassinet,” Mary replied softly.

  And if that mocking bird don’t sing, Papa’s going to buy you a diamond ring.

  “How badly do you need it?” Katie asked, her voice raised an octave.

  “Not badly at all,” Mary assured her quickly. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice,” Katie said.

  They hurried out of the room and rushed toward the door. The front door creaked open by itself, and Katie and Mary ran outside to the front porch.

  “You know I’m your best friend, right?” Katie asked.

  Mary nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then if I never visit you in your new house, you’d understand it’s nothing personal,” Katie replied, hurrying down the front steps with Mary.

  “I totally …” Mary began to say, then she froze. She took a deep breath, turned back to the house and shook her head. “No.”

  “You wouldn’t understand?” Katie asked, surprised.

  “I’m being played,” Mary muttered.

  “What? By who?” Katie asked.

  She looked over at her friend. “I’m a former cop. I’m a fighter, not a runner. No, person, dead or alive is going to push me around,” she said decisively.

  Katie nodded slowly. “Okay. You go, girl, and all that,” she said. “But, it’s hard to fight something you can’t see.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” she muttered, staring back at the door that was closing on its own.

  “What did you say?” Katie asked.

  Mary turned to her friend. “I think it’s time for me to be off of maternity leave,” she replied, further confusing her friend.

  “Maternity leave?” Katie asked.

  “Katie. I need to go home and have a conversation with someone,” Mary said. “Can I call you later?”

  “Sure,” Katie replied. “As long as you assure me that you’re fine.”

  Mary grinned and nodded. “Oh, I’m fine,” she said with a firm nod. “And I’m going to get even better.”

  Chapter Six

  Mary carried Mikey into the house and placed him in his swing. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. “Mike,” she said. “Mike I know you’re close by and I really need to talk to you.”

  Mike appeared next to the kitchen doorway and leaned against the wall. “What’s up?” he asked.

  Mary shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore,” she stated.

  “Do what?” he asked, looking concerned.

  She sighed with frustration. “Mike, who am I?” she asked.

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Is this a trick question?” he asked.

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “No, it’s not. Who I am?”

  “Okay,” he replied, nodding slightly. “You are Mary O’Reilly Alden. You are Bradley’s wife, Clarissa and Mikey’s mom, my friend, your parents’ daughter…” He paused. “Am I getting close?”

  “Yes, I’m all of those things,” she agreed. “But I’m also a decorated, former police officer, a skilled private investigator and, quite frankly, a fairly, bad-assed ghost talker.”

  “Ghost talker?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, talker,” she exclaimed. “Because Mary O’Reilly Alden doesn’t whisper, she talks!”

  Raising his hands defensively, he nodded. “Okay, I can see you’re a little worked up right now,” he said.

  “Yes, I’m worked up,” she replied. “And do you want to know why?”

  He studied her and cocked his head to the side. “I’m not sure.”

  “Yes, Mike. Yes, you want to know why,” she replied, walking up to him. “I’m worked up because I just went across the street to my new house and I had to leave because I was frightened.”

  He started to smile and then stopped when she glared at him.

  “Do you want to know why I was frightened?” she asked.

  “Yes?” he answered cautiously.

  “You’re right you want to know,” she replied. “I was frightened because there are ghosts in my house. Ghosts that I can’t see. Ghosts that I can’t help. Ghosts that could frighten or hurt my family.”

  “Ghosts. Right,” Mike repeated.

&nbs
p; “You are asking me to do a job without all the tools,” she explained. “I’m supposed to be helping Maybelle, but I don’t know the whole story. I’m working blindfolded here, and I don’t like it.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait,” Mike said, holding up his hands in surrender. “First, I’m not asking you to do anything.”

  “You’re the contact,” she said.

  “Yeah, but hey, don’t kill the messenger,” he replied.

  “I can’t kill you, you’re dead,” Mary quickly responded.

  Mike paused, feigning insult. “Wow. Ouch. That was harsh.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head. “As I recall, you used the same words to describe yourself this morning.” Before Mike could answer, she continued, “But, if I hurt your feelings, I’m sorry. However, I am not used to feeling helpless. I’m used to…”

  “Taking names and kicking butt?” Mike asked with a smile.

  She allowed herself to smile back and nodded. “Exactly,” she said. She ran her hand through her hair. “I can’t do this half-way,” she said. “I can’t go into this blind. I wouldn’t have done that as a cop, I’m not going to do that now.”

  “So, we have an ultimatum?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Well, yes,” she began and then she shook her head. “Well, no, actually. It’s more like a request. I’m ready. I’m ready to have my abilities back. I’m ready to help ghosts cross over again. And, if He doesn’t feel like I’m ready, then I need not to do any of it. I can’t move my family over to that house and constantly live in fear. That’s not fair to them.”

  “Have you talked to Bradley about this?” Mike asked.

  Mary put her hands on her hips and stared at him for a long moment. “No, I haven’t,” she replied. “But I think I’m a big girl now and can make my own decisions.”

  She took a deep breath and repeated, “Yes, I can totally make my own decisions.”

  He studied her for a long moment. Her face was flushed, her hair askew because she’d been running her hand through it and her eyes were filled with determination and irritation.