by Kim Hornsby
“Looks like Hodor can’t smell Moonraker,” Eve said to Caspian’s chuckle.
Hearing his name, Hodor woke up. He looked up at the cat, his ears twitched and then he settled down again and went back to sleep.
I looked at Caspian hopefully. “Do you think he sees your cat?”
“He saw Moonraker.”
It was then I realized that Eve had seen the cat. “Can everyone see a cat on Caspian’s lap?” I asked.
Turning to Carlos, I realized that he’d seen what he often called a “spawn of the devil.” Carlos was frozen in his chair, staring open-mouthed at Caspian’s lap, or more specifically, the cat. Carlos was absolutely terrified of all cats. Unnaturally so. He considered their presence equivalent to a frothing T. Rex crashing into the room.
I put my hand on his frozen-in-time arm that was halfway to his coffee cup. “It’s OK, Carlos. I’m between you and the cat and I won’t let her come your way.”
That didn’t help. The person beside me, who looked like a statue of Carlos, wasn’t even blinking. Eve got out of her chair and, from behind Carlos’s chair, pulled him back along the floor, away from his biggest fear. My little cousin managed to get Carlos and his chair all the way to the doorway where she turned the chair to face the hall. When Carlos realized he was being given an escape, he sprinted from his seat and disappeared from sight.
I looked at Caspian. “Have I told you Carlos doesn’t like cats?”
Chapter 2
Caspian and I headed outside as soon as his clothes dried. I’d moved his shirt to the house dryer, something Caspian suggested by asking if the wind box still worked in the house. “Belinda often dried my clothes in it. Back when she could see me.” When he said this, I remembered he’d told me he hadn’t seen much of the former owner of Cove House in recent years. He’d been slowly fading from her life.
When Caspian’s clothes were dry enough to wear, he dressed again, and we went for a walk in the cove. The beach below our cliff was bathed in sunshine, the water calm as we strolled from end to end several times, talking. At my urging, Caspian told me about his upbringing. I was at that stage with him where I wanted to know everything about him as well as what he liked, what he disliked, and everyone he’d ever met.
He’d been born in Spain and emigrated with his parents at the age of five, first landing in Philadelphia where they’d lived for several years. The journey by ship from Spain had first ignited his love of the sea and set him on the path to be a sea captain. The family continued west after a few years, headed to San Francisco, which was part of the Spanish Empire. At the time of Caspian’s death, his parents were both alive and still living in San Francisco.
“Belinda found records to suggest my mother and father died within a year of each other, both in their late seventies,” he said. “The worst part of my death and rebirth as a ghost,” he said, “was consciously knowing the heartbreak I must’ve caused them to hear of my demise.”
“Did they know how you died?” I asked.
“I hope they never knew I was murdered.” His voice was small, and his words sounded very far away.
Although I didn’t want to dwell on his death, this subject seemed to be key to Caspian’s existence. I needed more details. “Do you know exactly how you died, Caspian?” I wasn’t sure he’d been telling me the truth or if he had, how much of it he’d divulged. “Please don’t lie to me.”
We stopped walking and he turned to look out across the large bay. “My last memory is standing before Stevens. His men brought me to him after you saved me in the bay and revived me on the ship. I suspect he knocked me out again and threw me in the bay, like before.”
“But his men were long gone when we got to the ship,” I interrupted. “They didn’t follow us out there. You rowed me back to a deserted beach.”
Caspian looked into my eyes; his face pained. “They found me.” He started walking again and I caught up.
“What do you remember about that night?”
He seemed to be weighing his options. I was secretly voting for the truth. “In your recollection of that night, you woke when we landed, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” I had no idea what Caspian experienced when the woman in front of him suddenly disappeared. And did his friend in the boat wonder how their passenger vanished?
“Soon after you left, I was caught again by Stevens’ men. It seemed you’d saved me for nothing.”
“Or, I’d led you right back to where I’d come in,” I said.
We walked in silence for a while, me thinking of how I’d only given Caspian another few minutes of life if he’d died soon after we reached the beach. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
His arm went around my shoulders and he pulled me into his side as we walked. “Who’s to say that Rachel, whose body you inhabited, wouldn’t have done the same thing if she saw me being murdered. Let’s talk about your childhood.”
I had so many questions about that night and I believed he had answers, but he was done talking about his death for now. I didn’t know if his last moments involved torture or something so terrible it couldn’t be voiced so I started babbling on about my mother, Rachel, and what a crappy mom she was. I told him about moving from house to house, Rachel’s various boyfriends, the many couches and floors I slept on and how we made a living by farming out my talent to haunted houses. Caspian had a tough time believing I’d also been used by my mother to steal money from clients. “This was how we paid the rent, if we were living high and actually had a place to go home to at night.”
“You and I had very different upbringings,” he said.
“Pretty much everyone had a different upbringing than me,” I countered. “The world is different now from when you were young, but the two-parent family is still the goal for most people.”
“And you? Did you and Harry want children?” He said this so casually. Like the car crash not only took my husband, but the father to my future children.
“We did.”
Caspian had things he didn’t want to talk about and so did I.
I was afraid to leave Caspian’s side, not just because my world suddenly went pitch black when we parted, but I worried that if I came back into the room where Caspian waited, I wouldn’t suddenly have sight again. My blindness meant Caspian was gone and I didn’t want him to disappear again. If he left me, and I was sure he’d have to eventually, I hoped he’d be back sooner than last time. Unfortunately, I was plagued with the thought that when Belinda McMahon was alive, he was gone for very long periods near the end.
For that reason, I even made Caspian come to the bathroom with me when I had to pee. Of course, I had him turn around and stare out the other way with the tap running, but I had to say it was not only nice to watch his back, but it was a bonus to see where the toilet paper was. Caspian was generous with his time and seemed to understand that his attachment to me was right up there with being able to walk, talk, hear.
“You might get tired of following me around,” I said to him as we sat down to dinner at the grand table that night in celebration of his return.
“It hardly seems possible,” he said. “I’ve had over a century and a half to accustom myself to doing absolutely nothing and allowing boredom to dictate my existence.” I hadn’t thought about that. Caspian must be so incredibly bored in this house. Even just not being a captain on the high seas would be an adjustment. I cringed. Following a woman from room to room was going to get old fast.
“Do you know how to work a computer?” I asked, reaching for the Fettuccine Alfredo that Jimmy had concocted for our dinner.
“I do not but I am aware of what it is.”
“It holds the world’s information, like a book but so much more,” I said dumping a huge load of noodles and creamy sauce on my plate because at this meal, I could see what I was eating and intended to ingest a lot of it quickly.
I’d lost weight in the last year, eating being more difficult for me and therefore not as pleasurable. Maybe wi
th Caspian around, I’d be able to fill out my frame a bit and take the edge off the bones that had begun to stick out at my hips.
“I’d be interested in seeing if I can operate the computing mechanism,” Caspian said.
He didn’t eat so although I felt a little guilty shoving food in my face in front of him, I continued. “If we can see you and feel you, I bet you can operate it. Unless your energy plays havoc with electricity.” I looked to Eve and shrugged. “Sometimes ghosts flicker the lights and drain batteries. Let’s try after dinner.” I stabbed a clump of fettuccine with my fork, rolled it around my spoon and shoved it in my pie hole.
“Oh, for the love of Pete,” my mother said from the head of the table. “Please, Bryndle, you’re going to make the rest of us lose our appetite with your table manners.”
Since Rachel had woken this afternoon and found Caspian had returned, she’d been picking at me with insults. My hair was messy, I didn’t know what I was talking about, I hadn’t trained Hodor well enough, and didn’t I ever wear anything besides black jeans? My mother’s mission seemed to be to make me feel terrible about myself. Luckily, this was a common occurrence whenever I had a new boyfriend. Today, I was ready for her. I didn’t let her insults sink in like I had so many times in the past when she’d pick at me until I blew up and stormed out of the room. Today, I laughed at her and countered with an insult. Like it was all in good fun.
“If we don’t lose our appetite first by listening to your judgmental drivel,” I said, good naturedly. I didn’t even look over at her. My hope was that somewhere deep down the woman known publicly as my mother would understand that with every insult to me, another would follow for her. Then her petty pickery might stop.
Tonight, however, she threw her fork down, stood, stomped from the room and continued upstairs. Hodor watched and wagged his tail.
“My sentiments exactly,” I said to him and continued eating.
“What’s her problem?” Eve asked between delicate bites of reasonable sized bits of food.
I looked to Caspian and grinned. “I believe my mother is jealous.”
“I think you are right,” Jimmy said. “The way she watches you and Caspian is almost stalkerish.”
I laughed a real laugh.
Eve shook her head. “And, Aunt Rachel is in a bad mood because she’s between boyfriends.”
My mother usually went from man to man without a break, like a chain smoker lighting their next cigarette off the last one. The fact she was not involved with anyone at the time was making her mean. “She just needs to go into town to find a new man,” I joked. “Isn’t there a pub or a bank where she can meet someone?”
We’d spent a weekend not too long ago, watching Rachel cozy up to her cop boyfriend, nauseatingly flaunting their relationship. I didn’t feel badly when he dumped her shortly after. Not much. Ron, the cop, had been using my mother to get to me, I’d found out, and although I later regretted helping him with his murder case, I was happy that Mrs. G’s killer was behind bars.
My mother didn’t see it that way and I was pretty sure that if we’d been living at Floatville, my houseboat back in Seattle, my dear mom would have taken revenge-stalking an ex to a new level. I was doing her a great favor by keeping her on the Oregon coast with us while memories of Ron died. Especially because her house, the place she owned and should be living in, had been rented long term when she thought she and Ron were a sure enough thing for her to be moving in with him.
My mother was a piece of work and not having much to occupy her time these days, she’d put a target on my back for amusement. Today, she’d thrown a few flirty glances Caspian’s way, and had asked if all his body parts worked, something I thought was none of her business, but had also wondered. Caspian usually handled my mother like a champ and today was no different. He’d given her a look like she was a petulant child.
“And why would you need to ask that?” He’d stared her down until she looked away and pretended to not be insulted. He looked to me and shook his head. “Every day I’m reminded of the resemblance between your mother and my former wife, Jacqueline, whose heart was as black as coal.”
I’d made a noise like a guffaw.
Carlos was not at the dining room table for a good reason. He was taking his meals in the den having earlier phoned us to announce that as long as there was a cat in the house, we could just send food to the now locked off room. He’d called me several times during the day to ask where the monster was. I assumed he needed to sneak out for a bathroom break.
Poor Carlos.
Moonraker followed Caspian around and unfortunately, I needed Caspian to follow me around, so I was basically attached to the cat. Caspian’s cat was mellow and sweet and I wondered if I let her in the den and bolted the door, would Carlos eventually come around and be best buddies with Moonraker? Probably not.
With Rachel gone from the dinner table, the room held only Caspian, Eve, Jimmy and I and without thinking, I remarked that it felt like a double date.
“What is a double date?” Caspian asked.
“It’s when two couples go out socially to have fun,” Eve answered because I’d taken my final mouthful of Fettuccini.
“It takes some of the pressure off a date when you have three other people to talk to,” Jimmy said. “You don’t feel obligated to talk to your date.”
Caspian looked to me and smiled. “I feel no obligation to talk to you, only a deep desire to know who you are.”
I couldn’t wait to get this man upstairs for the night.
Chapter 3
When I found myself walking in the front door of Cove House wearing a long full dress, I wondered if I was dreaming that I’d entered the 1850’s. The sounds of a string quartet drifted from the living room and my house looked newer, fancier, more alive and younger than the house I knew in 2019. “Is this a dream?” I muttered, to which the gentleman on the end of my arm replied, “Mr. Stevens always puts on a grand soiree.”
He disengaged from my arm, bowed and spoke again. “Enjoy your evening, Mademoiselle Primrose.”
He got my name right. That was weird. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to curtsey back to him, so I settled for dipping my chin and smiling demurely, something that did not come naturally to this tomboy.
Just then a woman approached me from across the room. She looked so much like Jacqueline, Cove House’s vicious ghost, I almost turned and ran out the front door but this woman with Jacqueline’s face was smiling. I stayed rooted. Somewhat in fear.
“There you are Rachel. I’m glad you could join us tonight.” She kissed both my cheeks and I held my breath hoping this woman was not about to headbutt me. “Where is your dear Mama and Grandmama? Don’t tell me they won’t be coming to the Summer Ball?” If this lovely creature, only inches from my face, was Jacqueline, back in the day, I could see why Caspian had married her. She was ravishing and not at all like the Elvira-looking ghost I’d seen in present day Cove House. The years had not been kind to Jacqueline, all one hundred seventy of them, as a spirit in the afterlife, but tonight she was lovely and seemed genuinely happy to see me, thinking I was my mother.
And then I found out differently.
Two women came through the door.
“There they are!” Jacqueline said, fondly.
Apparently, the strange women arriving were my mother and grandmother, escorted by the same man who’d walked me through the door moments earlier. He even bowed and said the same words he’d just said to me except he called them the Madames Primrose. Seeing me, the woman who I took to be my mother, who looked frighteningly like my own mother, took my arm and whispered in my ear while Jacqueline greeted my grandmother.
“Not a word about the Captain, Rachel.”
My name was Rachel. For a moment I felt sick, thinking I was Rachel Primrose, shyster and con artist of the Pacific Northwest, then remembered that I was in 1850 and Rachel Cassidy Primrose, my mother, was not that old. I nodded to my new mother who wore a kind smile, some
thing I’d never seen on my own mother. Glancing down, I noticed I wore a dark blue taffeta gown, the skirt billowing out from my tightly cinched waist. Oh, no. I was back in the century when women wore corsets! No wonder I felt slightly nauseated.
My mother linked arms with me, and we started walking, following the music, my mother and grandmother chatting about the decorations for the ball while my brain screamed, “What the heck is going on?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that I’d traveled back in time and was still a Primrose. But why were we at Cove House? Had I changed the past so that the Primrose family existed at the time Caspian was alive? I was thinking of all this and more when my mother turned to me and asked if I was feeling peaked.
“You are awfully quiet, Rachel.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “I have a headache,” I said touching my temple lightly. I’d considered saying I had the vapors but wasn’t sure what that was or if the cure was something horrific like boring holes in a skull for a slight headache. Medicine was brand new in this old-timey world and no one knew what to do for most ailments until much later in history.
My mother leaned in so close I could smell her peppermint breath. “I know you’re nervous about seeing your patient again after all this time, but just because his ship is in the bay doesn’t mean he is invited to the ball. Control your feelings, my girl.”
“Thank you, mother,” I whispered. “I’ll take that to heed.” Shoot, I wasn’t sure that even meant anything but luckily, she didn’t question what I said. We entered the living room, full of partygoers, chatting away, drinking various beverages, listening to the music. Then I saw him.
Caspian stood near the mantle talking with several men in similar clothing. To see him in formal clothes with a frilly white shirt and his hair tied back in a bow did not make him seem girly at all. Quite the opposite. Caspian all cleaned up at this event made me want to run up and throw my arms around him. Rip off the frilly white shirt. Maybe even ask to borrow it after.
