by S. E. Harmon
He waved a hand impatiently. “Yes, you were you, but the lion was also you.”
I squinted at him. “Is this some sort of fight club shit?”
He smacked my shoulder. “No. Everything that happened in your… let’s say spookisode, was you. The elephant, the lion, the horses, the lights, the noises. All of it was harnessed from your energy.”
“That’s not a comforting thought. The ghost seemed a little… unhinged.”
“Like a demon?”
I frowned as I thought about that. The carousel situation certainly didn’t endear him to me. Still, I didn’t feel any sort of demonic energy coming from Joey. It wasn’t as if I had any baseline for that sort of thing, but he seemed more stubborn than evil, refusing to acknowledge things he didn’t want to hear.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I finally said.
“A lost soul, then. They tend to resist crossing over,” he muttered, more to himself than anything else. “They’re usually determined to rewrite history because they can’t accept something that happened while they were alive.”
“Like a relationship that didn’t work out?” I thought about the thing that disturbed me the most about the whole scenario. “He seemed fixated on being with me.”
“Well, your back may be scratched, but there’s nothing wrong with your ego,” Dakota said dryly.
“This from the man who was ready to fuck me in a parking lot?”
Dakota flushed. “Shut up.”
“It wasn’t me he wanted anyway. I think I look like someone he used to love.” I shivered a little, remembering how insistent he was that I was the mysterious Alex. “He seems determined for us to be together.”
“Tell him no,” he said promptly.
“That’s not going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s not four, I’m not his mom, and he’s not asking me for a peanut butter sandwich.”
He snorted. “I know it’s not that easy. I’m just saying, you need to make it clear that a relationship can never happen. And it couldn’t hurt to find this Alex person, if for no other reason but to warn him.”
“That should be a fun conversation.” I rubbed my temples. “Hi, I’m Rain. I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I see and speak with ghosts. Do you remember your ex-boyfriend who you might’ve killed? Well, he’s back and would love to take you to the Olive Garden on Friday night.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Dakota’s lips twitched. “I wouldn’t quite put it that way, but yeah, something like that.”
It was even harder to get the next part out. “He mentioned Danny being… an obstacle.”
Dakota widened his eyes. “You don’t think he would try to….”
Neither one of us wanted to contemplate the end of that sentence. “I don’t know,” I said shortly.
“Ideally, the goal would be to learn to control the flow of energy,” he murmured, “but we’re still working on that. So maybe we should look into some sort of protection amulet.”
“An amulet,” I repeated, just to be sure I heard what the hell I just thought I heard.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his eyes earnest.
Well, that was it. I checked my watch. Time of death, 6:06 p.m. I had to off myself. My life had turned into a hobbit movie and that was unacceptable.
“I’m not sure a giant amulet goes with the whole corporate casual thing I’ve got going on,” I said mildly.
“Christiansen, I’m serious.”
“So am I. I’m not wearing some sort of magical necklace—”
“For the last time, I told you that you’re not magical,” he said with a heavy sigh. “We’re not magical. Mediums, psychics, anything other, we just have a special connection—”
“To the Earth,” I finished, hopefully cutting off his favorite lecture at the knees. In our many, many sessions, he’d certainly said it enough. “I know, I know.”
“Then why do you keep making me repeat myself?” he asked exasperatedly. “You know what’s also part of the Earth? The natural stones that will go in your protection amulet. I need some time to figure out which ones will work for your particular problem.”
“You’ve had worse ideas,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“You should know.” His tone was pert. “Bad ideas are kind of your specialty, aren’t they?”
“Screw you, Daydream.”
“I already suggested that, and you said no.” He patted my cheek. “And don’t worry, I’ll bill you for this. I take Paypal now.”
“This doesn’t count as a full session.”
“Doesn’t it? I’m here solving your problems and giving you good ideas, aren’t I?”
“I think we’re playing it fast and loose with the word good.”
“And I’d love to debate that, but I have to get back.” He glanced in the direction of his classroom a bit anxiously. “If I miss Professor Grant’s lecture on applied mechanics, I’ll never forgive myself.”
God forbid he should miss ten minutes of notes. “Nerd,” I said fondly.
Dakota looked thrilled at the moniker. I had no idea what a plant whisperer needed with a doctorate in plant biology. I could only assume he was going to grow a giant Venus flytrap to take over the world. I didn’t want or need the details.
I watched as he bustled back to class. At the door, he blew me a kiss over his shoulder, and I pretended to throw it away. His responding laugh was bright and engaging, much like the man himself. I couldn’t help but smile in return.
*
It was dark before I pulled up in Paula’s driveway.
I was all out of small talk, so I waited in the car with the motor running while Danny made his goodbyes. His be out in a sec text was a bit optimistic; it was another ten minutes before he ambled down the driveway, hands full of Tupperware. He stacked them neatly in the back seat before sliding in beside me.
He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. His square jaw was rough with stubble, which was hardly a surprise—I was fairly certain he could grow a mountain man beard in three hours. “Sorry.”
“I’m in no rush.”
I gave the Tupperware a look in the rearview mirror as I backed out of the driveway. The labels only had heating instructions on them, instead of Danny’s name in block letters. Apparently my stellar hurricane shutter removal had entitled me to some homemade lasagna.
“The last thing we need is more food,” I said. “As far as I know, our power is still out.”
We both knew it was a token protest. The only thing left to decide was how much to pile on my plate, and my stomach and brain were already hashing out a deal.
“I argued with her about that for ten minutes straight.” He sent me a weary look. “We’re taking the food.”
I chuckled. “I think it’s a mom thing. There must be a secret Facebook group called The Kids Aren’t Eating where they gather and worry.”
“Probably,” he agreed with a grin. “At least when I come back over tomorrow, she has to believe me when I say I’m full.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that he was coming back alone. I was entirely too salty to bite my tongue for another day—not back to fucking back. “So how bad is the leak?”
“It seems confined to three small areas. I think we got off pretty easy.” He sighed. “Uncle Charlie’s going to help me patch it up. It’ll be a pretty simple job.”
“Your one-eyed, permit-shirking Uncle Charlie? The one who says he can’t work without his two partners, Jack and Daniels? The one who got his foot stuck in your deck when he was repairing it?”
“Our deck, we eventually got that boot out, and the Jack Daniels thing was a joke,” Danny informed me starchily. “He knows what he’s doing.”
I murmured noncommittally. It was the first time I truly regretted not being invited to Sunday dinner. I’d hate to miss a chunk of the roof falling in the middle of Paula’s elegant dining table.
“She can stay with us if she needs to,�
� I offered. Considering her constant chilliness toward me, it was a pretty generous fucking offer. “My parents are already back at their place, so we have the room.”
“That's all right. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
I mulled over that for a bit, even as I focused on my driving. I was more cautious than usual since there was still debris all over the ground. It didn’t help that most of the traffic lights were flashing yellow, if they worked at all. Drivers were waiting until enough cars gathered at a light to bully our way through the intersection together. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable accident happened.
The close calls were making me palpitate, so I started flipping on my lights at the intersection, no siren, to help my group out. They clung to Danny’s Charger like Velcro. If I drove into a tree, there would probably be twelve thumps right behind me.
Danny’s response to inviting his mother over still stuck in my craw. She’ll be fine. That was surprisingly cavalier terminology from someone who thought nothing was good enough for his mother. According to the badge in my back pocket, I was pretty good at piecing together clues. There could be only one reason he wouldn’t offer her the guest room at chez McKenna-Christiansen.
I didn’t bother to find a tactful way to broach the subject. I might be great with clues, but I was shit at diplomacy. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“I didn't think I had to.”
At least he didn’t pretend not to know what I was talking about. I was suddenly glad we were stuck in a car. I couldn’t indulge the part of me that wanted to stalk off. Pouting was never really all that productive, just extremely satisfying.
“She knows that we spend most of our time together anyway. I just didn’t tell her that we officially moved in together.” His tone was a tad defensive. “She needs a little time. She really liked you, you know. Before.”
“She did not like me. Before or after,” I said. “Even our first time around, she didn’t invite me to any family functions, up to and including Thanksgiving dinner.”
“That wasn’t about you. She was uncomfortable with me being gay and was actively trying to change my mind. You, she liked. She thought you were polite and handsome and mild-mannered.” His mouth quirked despite the seriousness of our discussion. “I love her, but clearly, she's delusional.”
I huffed. “If she liked me so much, what exactly did she hope to gain by disinviting me to Thanksgiving dinner?”
“She wanted me to know she didn't approve of my ‘lifestyle choices.’ And she… sort of set me up on a blind date.”
“A date!”
He groaned. “Rain, this was a long time ago. Years ago.”
“That’s a different version of praying the gay away, I guess. One dinner with a nice woman, and hey, I’m straight now! Pass the potatoes, will you?”
“I do agree, it was a bit naïve.”
“The word I’m looking for is stupid.”
He sent me a squinty-eyed look. “Are you calling my mother stupid?”
“I'm calling the idea stupid. And why didn't you tell me about it?”
“What was there to say?” He shrugged. “And it’s not like anything happened. Or would ever happen, for that matter. My mind has been set on an endless refrain of Rainstorm Christiansen since I first laid eyes on you.”
He sounded low-key annoyed about that, but it went a long way to mollify me. We went another mile of uneasy silence before he spoke again. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll tell her.”
Accept the olive branch for what it is. “Don't do me any favors,” came out of my mouth instead. Apparently, I didn’t accept olive branches—I set them on fire and wrote fuck off with the ashes.
“Rain,” he said warningly.
I sighed. “Sorry. I meant you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I want to do it. Besides, I promised you several things when we decided to try again. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do.”
“I asked you to trust me, and in return, I promised to be someone you could trust. I promised my faithfulness and fidelity—"
“Freaky sex on the regular—"
“And above all,” he continued, looking vaguely amused, “I promised I would always do my best to make you happy. I'm keeping that promise.”
Damn that man. Every time I erected a barrier, even a temporary one, he smashed through it at ninety miles an hour. “You already do,” I finally said.
He made a huff that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement. “Please don't be sweet. It just too weird. I can almost see your grinchy little heart growing six sizes.”
He chuckled at my glare. A moment later, he touched a few keys on the Navi screen, and the sound of a phone ringing filled the car. I gave him a questioning look that he ignored.
“Daniel!” His mother’s voice was small and tinny on the speakers, and he turned up the volume. “Did you forget something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I just realized I forgot to ask if you wanted to stay with us. Just until I get the leak patched.”
“Oh, darling, thank you, but I would hate to impose on you.” She faltered, and I heard the moment the us filtered in. “Or Rain.”
There was a question in her voice that he ignored. He went on, his voice just as purposefully casual as before. “It’s no imposition. His parents stayed with us during the storm. We’d love to have you.”
“That’s… an interesting development,” she said, saying everything without saying much of anything at all. “I wasn’t aware.”
“Well, now you are.”
That’s my guy. I glanced over at him with fondness and exasperation. Delicate as a two-by-four across the face.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.
“We are.”
“I’d just hate for you to get hurt again.”
“Mom, I have you on speak—”
“He has a history of not sticking around—”
“Mom.”
She finally gave up on subtle as she blurted out, “Isn’t he still under psychiatric care?”
“That’s enough,” he said shortly. The tips of his ears were red with anger. I wasn’t surprised. He had a front-row view of all the issues I went through because of the ghosts in my life. He didn’t take too kindly to anyone even insinuating that I was crazy.
“I’m also bringing him along for Sunday dinner,” he said, and even I could hear the unspoken challenge in his tone. If I wasn’t coming, neither was he, and I mentally crossed my fingers that Paula would do the right thing. I didn’t want to be the cause of a rift between Danny and his mother.
She paused. It was a long fucking pause. “Is that so?”
“Yep.”
“I was hoping to invite someone I met at my book club meeting,” she said. “Such a nice young man. Name is Michael, I think.”
At least she stopped trying to set him up with women.
“It's your dinner. You can invite whoever you want. But I'd like to bring Rain as my guest.” At her silence, he plowed on, “If that’s not okay, then I won’t—”
“My home is your home,” she hurried to say. “You know you’re welcome to bring him anytime.”
From the sound of things, my helping of pot roast was going to have some extra seasoning—salt, pepper, a pinch of thyme, and a healthy dash of cyanide.
As I crossed the next intersection, I spotted a three-car accident that made me wince. If the almost translucent figure standing in the middle of the smoking wreckage was an indicator, it was a pretty bad one. The driver’s side of her little Civic was crushed and dented beyond recognition.
She flitted around two EMTs as they worked on the passenger side window, gesturing wildly as she spoke. Her expression was one of utter confusion and despair as they seemingly ignored her. My stomach clenched in sympathy. She didn’t know she was dead, and from the frantic way the EMTs were trying to break the window, neither did they.
I flipped
on my lights and made my way to the left lane for a quick U-turn. “We should see if we can help,” I murmured to Danny. “There’s someone over there I need to speak to.”
Comprehension crossed his face even as his mother’s exasperated tone came through the speakers again. “For God’s sake, Daniel. You had me on speaker?”
“Yep. Rain and I don’t keep any secrets from each other.”
There was something pointed in his tone, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t for her. I bit my lip, thinking about the FBI badge in my desk drawer. Perhaps an addendum with the word “many” was needed to make that sentence truthful. Rain and I don’t keep many secrets from each other. Or even I don’t keep any secrets from Rain, but he’s hiding a doozy of one from me.
“Hello again, Rain,” she said.
Her comments pissed me off, but I wasn’t raised by wolves. “Hello, Mrs. McKenna,” I said dutifully.
“I hope you didn’t take offense at what I said.” The guilt in her tone was slightly mollifying—slightly. “I just… I just worry about my boy.”
“No offense taken. I know the feeling.”
“And so the last meeting of the Worried About Danny club is adjourned,” Danny said dryly.
“The WAD club sounds a bit offensive,” I said with a chuckle.
His mother didn’t seem to find either of us funny, although, to be fair, unamused seemed to be her default state. “I'll be seeing you at dinner,” she said crisply. “Both of you. Don't bring a thing.”
No danger there. I was pretty sure none of the six dishes we'd mastered would go with her roast. “We won't,” we singsonged.
“And Daniel? Please call me later. Alone,” she stressed.
He sighed. “I will. Mom, we’ve got to go.”
“All right, dear.”
He ended the call and glanced over at me. “That went well, huh?”
“Yes,” I murmured as I pulled over on the shoulder. “I suppose she could have shot me in the face.”
He made an exasperated noise and it was clear he was done with the both of us.
I couldn’t help but wonder what his mother had to say about me. Probably several warnings why I wasn’t right for him. Maybe even a firm suggestion to get rid of me as soon as possible.
