by Maria Geraci
“So you’re leaving town?” Mimi asked as if that wasn’t a foregone conclusion.
“I’ll stick around for the football game. Watch my niece cheer. Then head out tomorrow morning.” After I make sure Claire tells you and Zeke about her extra-curricular activities…
“I’m sorry, Allie. I was really hoping something big would happen for you.”
“Thanks. But I’ll think of something else to send in to the magazine. Either they’ll hire me or they won’t. Not much I can do about that.” She glanced down at the empty mug. “I think…Tom thinks he’s in love with me,” she blurted.
“What the hell, woman! Why didn’t you say so earlier? Does this have something to do with the fact that you announced to everyone at the séance that you and Tom had sex?” Mimi leaned forward in her chair, her blue eyes glittering with excitement. “I wasn’t going to say anything because you seemed so down, but…was it completely and totally awesome? You don’t have to tell me the details, but then, I might have to kill you if you don’t.”
Despite herself, Allie managed a laugh. “It was all right.”
“You’re kidding? Just all right? ‘Cause he looks like he’d be—”
“It was fine,” Allie said, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Mimi’s curiosity. If she told Mimi exactly how all right it was, she’d never hear the end of it. “I thought it would make things easier between us. You know, cut out some of the sexual tension? But I think it just made everything worse.”
“Because now he thinks he’s in love with you? Just exactly how is that making everything worse?”
“He didn’t actually say the words, but, basically, yeah. I think he’s got love confused with some nice sex. And of course, I don’t feel the same way. Not at all.”
Mimi raised an incredulous brow.
“Promise you won’t tell Zeke. He’ll blow a kidney. He already hates Tom enough as it is. If he finds out we had sex and that half the town knows he’ll have to go on dialysis.”
Mimi made a face. “I can’t promise Zeke won’t find out, but he won’t find out from me.”
It occurred to Allie that she was putting Mimi in a bad position with her husband and she didn’t want to be responsible for adding any more tension between them. “I changed my mind, please do tell Zeke. Just wait till I leave town.” Pause. “By the way, when did Lauren Donalan join your Bunco group?”
“She was subbing last night.”
“Talk about awkward,” Allie muttered.
“Oh, I don’t know, she seemed kind of pleased, really, to find out you and Tom had been together.”
“Just what kind of relationship do those two have?”
“Not the typical divorced couple, that’s for sure,” Mimi said. “It’s kind of refreshing, actually. I really think she wants Tom to be happy.”
“Sorry to disappoint her, but he’s not about to be happy with me, that’s for sure.”
Mimi looked as if she’d just opened up a box of Oreos only to find the luscious cream filling missing from each cookie. “So, you don’t think he was sincere when he told you he had feelings for you?”
“We were together for a few months twelve years ago and a few days now. How can anyone be in love after that?”
“Oh, sweetie, I fell in love with Zeke in ten minutes. I didn’t want to. I knew his reputation, but when your brother decides to lay on the charm…” Mimi shrugged.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“It just is, is all.”
Mimi stood and placed the dirty mug in the kitchen sink. “You can tell yourself whatever you want, Allie, but the truth is, if we got to pick who we fell in love with, the world might be a tidier place. But a lot more boring, too.”
*~*~*
Allie took a quick shower, then caught a ride with Zeke on his way to work. He pulled into the senior center parking lot. “You sure you want to be here?” he asked.
She didn’t expect the ghost to suddenly materialize, but after all that had happened this past week, it seemed fitting that she be here for the big tear-down. “Yep, I’m positive.” She opened the door to the police cruiser and hopped out.
Zeke stuck his head out the window. “How are you getting home?”
“I can walk. It’s a beautiful day and I could use the exercise.” Pause. “I checked my bank account online and I have enough money to pay the suspension. Do you think you can give me a ride to the courthouse later?”
“Not a problem.” There was relief in his dark eyes and Allie realized, not for the first time this visit, how much stress Zeke must have in his life. To him, she must be one more person to take care of. One more person he had to keep tabs on. She hated that she was a source of worry for him. Especially now that she knew he had more important things to worry about. They made plans to meet back at the house at noon.
The scene in the parking lot was similar to what it had been the past few mornings. Lots of men. Lots of machines. She spotted Tom speaking to Hard Hat, aka Keith. Tom made his way over to her. His shoulders seemed tight with tension but he still looked handsome enough to take her breath away. He looked surprised to see her and Allie realized what he must be thinking.
“Before you say anything I’m not here to ask you to stop the demolition. No tricks. No last minute appeals. I concede defeat.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I guess I couldn’t help myself.”
He glanced around the parking lot and turned back to her as if he was going to say something but then changed his mind.
“I’m leaving town tomorrow,” she said, feeling the start of a babbling attack. Maybe there was a self-help group out there. Babblers Anonymous. If not, then she could be the founder. She stifled an inappropriate giggle. Laughter and tears. It must be kind of like the love-hate thing. Two emotions on opposite ends of the spectrum that weren’t really opposite after all.
Why did the idea of demolishing the senior center suddenly make her feel so sad? A week ago, she wouldn’t have blinked if she’d heard about the building coming down. But today…
“Have you decided what to do about your story? For the magazine?” Tom asked.
“I’ll think of something.” Then she put on her best smile because she certainly didn’t want Tom Donalan feeling sorry for her. “I always do.”
“I hope everything works out for you, Allie. You deserve nothing but the best.”
“Thanks,” she managed to say. “Best of luck with the building and Henry and, well, with everything.”
He nodded, but he didn’t make a move to leave.
Oh God. They were having another moment. Only this one felt final.
She almost reached out to hug him. But of course, she didn’t. You hugged friends or puppy dogs. You didn’t hug Tom Donalan. Not unless she wanted a whole lot more than a hug.
Before she did or said something she’d regret, she took off across the parking lot. Good thing she had on her running shoes. She could feel tears welling up behind her eyeballs. But not because she was saying goodbye to Tom. It was the building. The ghost story. The agony of defeat. That’s what it was.
She was so busy trying to get away that she ran smack into Roger Van Cleave, nearly knocking them both down in the process. “Oh! So sorry,” she mumbled.
“Whoa!” Roger led her to a grassy area on the side of the parking lot. “You okay?”
“Perfectly fine. For a journalist without a story, that is.” She pointed to the camera slung around his neck. “That looks fancy.”
“This old thing?” He grinned. “I thought I’d come out and record the demolition. For prosperity.”
“Good idea.” Allie forced a smile. “So, how’s your sister?”
“Phoebe’s madder than a wet cat. But she’ll get over it.” He glanced back at the building. A crane with a large wrecking ball sat poised on the edge of the senior center, ready to take aim. “You know,” Roger continued, “this place was originally built as a residential home by
Earl Handy. He and Margaret raised their kids here, then after she passed on he donated the building to the city. Pretty prime real estate, huh?”
She shaded her eyes to avoid the bright morning sunlight and looked at the building for what was probably the last time. She’d known about the building’s original owner, of course. Everyone knew old Earl Handy, grandson (or was it great-grandson?) of Cyrus Handy, one of Whispering Bay’s original founders. Heck, half the town was practically related to him, Mimi and Lauren included. A horn blared, nearly making her jump.
“Everyone, clear the premises!” Hard Hat yelled into a bullhorn, followed by the sound of heavy machinery going into action. Allie and Roger stepped behind to a marked off area, where a few other spectators looked on as well. Roger began snapping pictures with his camera.
Allie had never seen a building demolished. The roar of the cranes combined with the sound of smashing bricks to produce what appeared to be a well-orchestrated production. Allie glanced over at Tom. This is what he does. He tears things down, and then he builds things back up. She shuddered.
“It’s sad,” Roger said, seeing her reaction. “Watching something with so many memories come down. It’s like each and every brick has its own story.”
She nodded. Endings always made her feel melancholy, too. “Do you think Concerned Citizen sent me that anonymous letter with the hopes of delaying or even postponing the demolition? Maybe there was some ulterior motive for not wanting the building to come down. I mean, obviously, there’s no ghost here.”
It was depressing to think that her entire trip had been for nothing. Except, if she hadn’t been here she’d never have known Mimi and Zeke were having marital difficulties. And she and Tom wouldn’t have had their “closure.” She glanced his way once again. How could he think that after all these years they could somehow have a future together? It was ridiculous.
“You sure about that?” Roger asked.
“You were at the séance. What do you think?”
“I think ghosts come in all shapes and forms,” he said, following her gaze. “Maybe yours has some unfinished business.”
Eyes off Tom, Allie. She felt herself blush. “Oh, no, that’s definitely finished.”
“Nothing’s ever finished. Unless you want it to be.”
“Generally, I’d say that’s good advice, but in this case…” A breeze danced in from the gulf, bringing with it the warm smell of salty air. And something else. It was faint, but still enough for Allie’s nose to pick up. Lemons. No, not lemons, Jean Nate. She sighed.
“Look what I found.” Roger bent over and picked up a small bright object from the ground. “Penny for your thoughts?” He held up the shiny copper coin as if he’d found a winning lottery ticket.
“Some people would say they’re not worth picking up anymore.”
“Good thing I’m not some people.” Roger pocketed the penny. He motioned to his camera. “I think I got what I need here. You hungry?”
“Starved,” Allie admitted.
“Good. Because I make a mean omelet. How about you let this old man make you some breakfast? Maybe between the two of us we can figure out who wrote that infamous email.”
“I hope you like grocery bought coffee,” Roger yelled from the kitchen. “I don’t keep any of that fancy Star Wars stuff here.”
Although he couldn’t see her, Allie still smiled. “Regular coffee is fine.” She walked around, inspecting his home.
The living room was surprisingly modern. Leather furniture, hardwood floors, and lots of black and white photographs on the walls. Mostly landscapes, a lot of them foreign looking—pictures of snow-capped mountains and deserts, but Allie recognized a few of them as local shots. There was a picture of the gulf at sunset that took her breath away. And lots of pictures of a pretty woman with dark hair and sparkling eyes.
Was Roger offering to help her with Concerned Citizen because he missed his wife and didn’t have anything better to do? It occurred to Allie that she didn’t care what fueled his motivation. She liked Roger. Having him make her breakfast was no hardship on Allie’s part.
He came up behind her and offered her a cup of coffee, then set two plates down on the table in front of the couch.
“Did you take all these photos?” she asked, unable to tear her eyes from the images on the walls.
“Yep. With an old fashioned camera. Like the kind I used today. Remember those?”
“I do remember those. Still use one myself from time to time, too.”
“Well, how about that?” He grinned and took a sip of his coffee.
Allie stared down at her mug. “How did you know I take it black?” She actually preferred some cream in her coffee, but she’d learned over the years not to be fussy where her caffeine was concerned. She took a sip. It was strong and surprisingly good.
“No self-respecting journalist takes their coffee any other way. I should know. I used to be one myself. If you count twenty years working for Life magazine,” he said.
“You worked for Life?” She went back to studying the photos. Of course he had worked for Life. “And National Geographic, too, I bet.”
He winked at her. “Among a few others.”
Allie’s voice softened. “She was very pretty.”
He followed her gaze to a picture of a woman sitting on a large rock. She wore khakis and hiking boots and a knit cap. Her straight dark hair hung well below her shoulders and her smile was…breathtaking. Like she was the happiest woman on the planet.
“I met Janice when I was fifty. She was thirty-five and divorced. I was a confirmed bachelor but I still married her after our third date. She died last year. Cancer. We never had any kids.”
“I’m sorry.” She wished there was something better to offer than that, but she knew from experience that there simply wasn’t. “Three dates, huh?”
“When you know, you know.” He cleared his throat and pointed to the omelets. “Food’s getting cold.” They sat on the couch, side by side, eating their breakfast. “Let’s get down to it. You want me to help you figure out who Concerned Citizen is?” Allie nodded. “Then start thinking like a journalist. Who had the most to gain from you investigating that old building?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someone who didn’t want it to come down?”
“We all voted on it. The whole town. We need a new rec center. Kids need a place to play basketball. A community swimming pool. It’s best for everyone.” He set down his plate and pulled a photo album from a nearby bookshelf and handed it to her.
Allie began leafing through the pages. The album was full of pictures of the senior center. She recognized a few of the pictures that Betty Jean had given her from the Whispering Bay Gazette. “You took pictures for the Gazette, too?”
“Just a few. After Janice and I got married we moved here to live on the beach. I had some family money and was tired of traveling. Phoebe lived nearby so we thought it would be a good place to raise kids. Never had the kids but we had a good life.”
Allie lay the album down. “Mr. Van Cleave—”
“Call me Roger.”
“Okay, Roger, what do you think about your sister’s theory that the ghost is male?”
“She’s got a fifty-fifty shot at being right.” His blue eyes sharpened. “And you think she’s full of it.”
“I didn’t say that, but I don’t know how she can be so certain.”
“Are you asking me if my sister’s a fraud?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly.”
He looked her over as if trying to decide how much to tell her. “After Janice died, I had trouble sleeping. Common enough, I was told, for someone who was grieving. Doc Morrison prescribed some sleeping pills…and something for depression, as well, but I didn’t want to go that route, you know?
So one night I had a couple of beers. More than a couple, to tell the truth. I must have passed out on my living room couch because I woke up in the middle of the night to, um, relieve myself. Whil
e I was washing my hands I glanced up in the bathroom mirror…and there was Janice’s reflection staring back at me. Smiling at me, just like she’d done in real life.”
Allie held her breath.
“When I turned around, she was gone. I chocked it up to those beers and tried to get back to sleep. Eventually, I did.” He stared at her hard. “I never had any problem sleeping after that.”
Roger was quiet for a few long seconds and Allie wondered if it was the end of the story. She sensed it wasn’t, but it also seemed as if he were hesitant to go any further. She laid her hand over his. She thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. “And?” she urged softly.
“And that’s when I started finding the pennies. Janice used to always use that expression, ‘penny for your thoughts.’” Roger shrugged like he was embarrassed. “I found pennies all over the place. I’d go to the Piggly Wiggly and find a penny in the parking lot next to my car. Or I’d go out and get the morning paper and there would be a penny lying on the sidewalk. I knew intellectually it was just a coincidence. People drop pennies all the time. But, a part of me wants to believe that it’s Janice. Telling me to hang in there. That I don’t need those sleeping pills because she’s watching out for me.”
Then he stood and went out to the kitchen. He returned with a large glass vase filled to the brim with pennies. He set it on the table in front of her, stuck his hand in his pocket and produced the penny he’d found in the senior center parking lot, and dropped it into the vase.
Allie stared at the pennies. Like Roger, a part of her wanted to tell him that it was a coincidence. That people found pennies all the time. Especially if they were on the lookout for them. But who was she to tell him that? If the pennies gave him solace, then they were a good thing. And on the chance that they were somehow linked to his deceased wife, then…
She tried to find a delicate way to word it. “Roger, do you think that maybe…it’s Janice who’s haunting the senior center?”
