The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch)

by Jack, Genevieve

  The last word was barely out of her mouth when my boss, Kathleen, rounded the corner and met my eyes.

  “Where’ve you been, Grateful?” she asked. Her lips pulled into a stern line.

  “At the blood bank for three-oh-three. I forgot the type and match and had to come back up.”

  “I must have missed you when you came in,” she said. Her voice held a hint of skepticism.

  “I got report from uh…” I cleared my throat. I had no idea who had my rooms before me.

  “Megan. Wasn’t it Megan I saw you with this morning?” Michelle filled in.

  “Yes, Megan,” I followed. “Had to get started right away. Sorry I missed you.”

  Kathleen nodded curtly and rushed off to her next victim.

  “I owe you one, Michelle.”

  We walked side by side toward our rooms.

  “You can pay me back after work today by coming with me to check out a patient on neuro. Maureen asked me to stop over.”

  “Sorry, hon. Can’t today. I have a date.”

  “With who?”

  I stopped myself. I couldn’t tell Michelle about Logan. Not only would she not believe me, but she might go all mental-health-nurse on me. If I didn’t want to end up on Haldol, I figured Logan needed to stay my little secret. “With me.”

  “What?”

  “Listen, I’ve been totally stressed lately. I just want to paint my toes and go to bed early, you know?”

  “Totally. Totally get it. How about tomorrow night?”

  I adjusted a box of latex gloves on the counter, unable to look Michelle in the eye. “I have a date.”

  “Another date with your toes?”

  “No, a real date.”

  “With who?”

  “My new neighbor, Rick. I had a date with him yesterday. I think we hit it off.” Boy, was that the understatement of the year, but telling Michelle he’d gotten me off on the first date was an equally bad idea to telling her about Logan. I wasn’t proud to be hiding things from my best friend, but my life was a little weird right now. I’d be straight with her once I got a grip on things.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  I gasped and gave her an appalled stare. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”

  “Are you forgetting the blonde paradox? Fast to come is fast to go.”

  “I’m not forgetting, but he’s perfectly normal. I have a good feeling about this relationship. We seem destined somehow.”

  “You’ve known him for like three days.”

  “I know. Well, four if you count today.”

  Michelle did not look impressed. She rolled her eyes and made a raspberry sound with her lips. “Call me when you need ice cream therapy,” she said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  She gave me a firm hug. “I’m confident in you, but not so much in the opposite sex.”

  Judging by my disastrous relationship with Gary, I couldn’t say she was wrong.

  The intensive care unit was busy that day, and I found myself swept away in a routine of assessments and medication administration. Nursing is beautiful that way. It’s impossible to think about your own problems when you’re wrapped up in someone else’s. The day flew by. Before I knew it, I was relieved by the night nurse and passing through the fishbowl hallway to get to the elevator. I paused and looked over the parking lot, enjoying the colors of fall twilight painted across the sky. The scene was so beautiful, I stepped toward the glass, taking in the sunset and allowing myself to unwind. I scanned the rows of cars, reflexively trying to pick mine out of the pack.

  I found it—and something else I wasn’t expecting. There was a man standing next to my car; a man who looked a whole lot like Gary.

  I beat feet to the end of the hallway then down the stairwell because I didn’t want to wait for the elevator. Exploding out the side exit into the parking lot, I raced toward my Jeep, having no idea what I would do if it really was Gary. What would I say? I didn’t have a block of knives to back me up.

  My Jeep waited for me in the third row where I left it. No one was there. I even squatted to look underneath. Shaking my head, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and reached for the door. The stench of Gary’s cologne wafted over me and I whipped around. Nothing.

  I climbed behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life. Stupid Gary. Stealing my money wasn’t enough; now he wanted the car too? If it was him, he’d better hope I never caught him near my stuff again, or there was a very real possibility I’d make him disappear again, permanently.

  Chapter 10

  Logan

  “Don’t you remember anything about your life at all?” I asked.

  Logan sat across from me at the dining room table, watching me eat a late dinner he’d prepared. It was some sort of chicken dish that melted in my mouth and tasted of butter and fresh herbs. He’d insisted, and I couldn’t refuse. But since I was chewing, I needed him to carry the conversation, a hard task for someone without a past.

  “I see bits and pieces sometimes. I know things about eating. Like how to cook and what wine goes with what dessert. I think I liked motorcycles. Everything…all my memories are loose inside my head. I can’t connect them logically.”

  Part of me could relate. Some days I didn’t know who I was either. The arc of my life just seemed to happen with no driving force behind it, as if I were going along with a script rather than meeting it head on. Part of it I could blame on being in my early twenties, but the rest was all me.

  “In an odd way, I can empathize,” I said. “I may know my name, but sometimes I wonder if I will ever understand who I really am.” The words surprised me as they poured out of my mouth. What was it about Logan that made me share the most intimate details of my life with him?

  “I have a vague sense that I was lonely when I was alive. There’s a hollowness at the center of me. I don’t remember what my life was like, but something about me seems disconnected. It’s hard to explain.”

  I rubbed a circle over my sternum with my palm. I could relate to that too. “Gary did that to me. Maybe you had a similar situation before you, um, died.”

  Logan’s despondent eyes fixated on his interlaced fingers. “I wish I remembered.”

  “I wish I could forget.”

  Glowing green eyes met mine. Logan and I had a moment of connection, a communion of thoughts that conveyed a mutual desire to comfort, although no words were said. I reached forward to place my hand over his, and my flesh sank through him. A tingling pressure eased over my skin until my palm hit the table.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I retracted my fingers.

  He shrugged awkwardly. The room fell silent. I ate the last bite off my plate.

  “Would you like to play a game?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said, brightening in his chair. “What did you have in mind?”

  “There’s a pool table downstairs. Eight ball?”

  Logan nodded. “I remember. I remember how to play.”

  “Cool.”

  * * * * *

  In order to manipulate the pool cue, Logan had to disappear. I knew from the break I was in trouble. Whoever Logan had been in his life, he was damned good at pool.

  “Can I ask you something personal, Grateful?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have another date with the caretaker?”

  “Uh, yes. Tomorrow night.”

  He lined up another shot. “Did anything, um, happen on your first date?”

  My face was on fire. I placed my hand on my cheek. “That is none of your business.”

  “Why are you turning red? Oh…fuck… Did you sleep with him?”

  “Kind of.”

  “What? Kind of? How can you sleep with someone ‘kind of’?”

  “We fooled around but, you know, didn’t have intercourse.”

  A relieved sigh came from his side of the table.

  I bent over to line up my shot and asked the obvious question. “Why
do you care, Logan?”

  “I talked with Prudence, and she knows some things about the caretaker. I’m not supposed to talk about it but I’m worried about you. After what happened with Gary, I don’t want you to get hurt again.” He formed in front of me, the pool stick falling to the floor with a clamor.

  I backed into the table. His opaque hands came to rest on either side of me, and he leaned in close, close enough to attract the tiny hairs on my arms toward whatever he was made of.

  “You told me you jumped into a relationship with Gary too quickly. I know what that did to you. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes with Rick.”

  I searched his eyes. He cared. It was refreshing to talk with a man who genuinely wanted the best for me. But there was a wall, something he was hiding, and I needed to understand more about what it was. “What did Prudence say about Rick?”

  “I can’t talk about it. I literally cannot. Prudence has forbidden me to, and as senior ghost, I must obey her.”

  The way he said it made me uneasy. Maybe, Prudence was a bully. Why wasn’t she letting Logan talk to me? “How did you end up in my attic?”

  “I told you, I’m not supposed to talk about that, either.”

  “Why not? What possible reason could there be for not telling me about why you’re living in my attic?”

  “She says it’s for your protection, to keep you safe. The secret must be revealed in a certain way.”

  I sighed, exasperated. “Can’t you give me a clue? Anything?”

  He placed his hands on his hips and hung his head.

  “Logan, come on,” I said.

  “How did you get the name Grateful, anyway?”

  Way to change the subject. I hated talking about my name but people were naturally curious about it. I decided I’d try to use it as leverage. “I’ll tell you, but in exchange you need to tell me what I want to know.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot.

  “I told you—”

  “I know you can’t say it straight out, but you can give me a clue. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  “Deal.”

  “My dad named me Grateful because my mother died in childbirth and he was grateful to have me.”

  “Your mom died giving birth to you? That must have made for a difficult childhood.”

  The comment caught me off guard. “Not really. My dad has always been there for me. I mean, there were times I missed having a mom, but it’s not the same as missing a person you actually knew. I’d never met her.”

  “Has your father ever told you the full story of how it happened?”

  I considered his question. “I guess not really. I mean, I know now that she bled out. There’s a medical term—disseminated intravascular coagulation, or DIC. No one was to blame. I work in the hospital where she died. Every year on my birthday, my dad used to send a card to the nurse who helped with my delivery.”

  “What was the nurse’s name?”

  “You know, I don’t remember. I just know my dad thought the world of her.”

  “Ask your father. Ask him for the nurse’s name.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because that’s the clue I promised you.” He faded and then disappeared.

  “Oh, you can’t be serious! What possible connection could there be? You made this up.”

  “That was our deal. Take it or leave it.”

  I sighed. “Take it.”

  That must’ve made him happy, because he formed next to me and smiled large enough to make his aura burn brighter. Then, as if on impulse, he leaned in and kissed me again. The cool vibration of his lips sent tingles over my scalp and down my spine.

  This time he didn’t break apart. But when he pulled away, he glowed like a lightbulb.

  So much for my theory that Logan’s intentions were solely platonic. Body or no body, this kiss was more than friendly.

  Chapter 11

  My Past Haunts Me

  Across the street from the hospital is a restaurant called Valentine’s. St. John’s employees love it, because if you’re wearing scrubs they serve you first. It’s nice when people recognize a long lunch could mean someone’s life. Plus, the food is better than the cafeteria and they serve a yummy cappuccino. After 7:00 p.m., they open a bar in the back with a small dance floor surrounded by dartboards and pool tables. It’s a great place to hang out.

  I found a quiet booth and ordered a sandwich from an annoyingly perky waitress. Then I dialed Dad on my cell. It was a hard conversation to start. How do you ask a man about the day his wife bled to death? The topic was generally avoided in our family. But when I thought about backing down, I thought about my ghost. Logan had hinted that this story would help me understand why he was in my attic and what I needed to know about Rick. I wanted to solve the mystery of my haunted house, but I also wanted to help him find peace. Logan was a good person, dead or alive.

  “Hello,” my dad said in his real estate agent voice, like he pooped sunshine and rainbows. It was why he was so good at what he did.

  “Dad, it’s me.”

  “Hi, sweetie. Everything okay with the new place?”

  “Sure, yeah. It’s great.”

  “What’s up, then?”

  “I need to talk to you about when I was a baby. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about and I have to know. I want you to tell me the whole story, everything you remember about when I was born.”

  Silence. I checked to make sure the call was still connected.

  “What brought this on?” he finally asked.

  “Well, now that I’m a nurse myself and I’m working at the same hospital where I was born, I just feel the need to know. I’m only twenty-two, and some of the staff here has been around for thirty or forty years. What if I run into someone who was involved with my birth?”

  “There’s no chance of that.” My father’s voice sounded grim.

  I was sorry for ruining his day by digging up ancient memories, but I needed to know. “Why?”

  “Listen, I’m coming over tonight. We’ll talk about this in person. This isn’t a conversation for the phone.”

  “Okay.” The word came out of my throat like a cough.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I get off at seven.”

  We ended the call, but words that needed to be aired pressed themselves against the phone. I wasn’t sure how my ghost knew, but my dad had something to tell me. I both welcomed and dreaded his visit.

  * * * * *

  For the first time in forever, I left work on time. Anxious for answers, I drove home faster than I should have. After I hung up with Dad, I realized I was supposed to have dinner with Rick that night and I didn’t have his phone number to call and cancel. Actually, I didn’t remember seeing a phone in his house. Weird. Hopefully, what Dad had to say wouldn’t take too long. But if it did, Rick would just have to wait. This was important.

  Robert Knight, real estate agent, walked up to my house minutes after I arrived home, only becoming Dad when I opened the door and my hug broke his professional demeanor. He wore a tailored gray suit and carried a black leather satchel. With a full head of short black hair and only a slight pattern of gray above his ears, people often mistook him for ten years younger than he was. His movie star good looks and athletic physique added to the illusion of youth. Growing up, neighborhood women and house-hunting clients were always making excuses to flirt with him, but he never seemed interested. I never really thought about why. As a kid, my innocent mind just assumed he was happy with our family and didn’t need another wife.

  “Thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink?”

  He followed me into the kitchen and took a seat on a stool at the island. “Yeah. Scotch, straight up.”

  I laughed. “Scotch? Sorry, I don’t drink the stuff.”

  “There’s some in the cabinet above the fridge.”

  I stretched to open the little door he motioned toward. I never used that cabinet. Too hard to reach. Sure eno
ugh, there was half a bottle of scotch there. I poured him a glass. “Did you store this up there before I moved in?”

  “Actually, it was here since Prudence. I used to come visit her occasionally. She kept it for me.”

  Uh-oh. “Dad, please tell me you weren’t having an affair with her.” Prudence was almost twenty years older than my father. I shuddered to think they were somehow involved.

  “No. No, affair. We were just friends.”

  I squinted in his direction. “Close enough friends that she left you her house when she died and kept your favorite liquor.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands, flashing his Rolex in the process. “Maybe it would be better if I started at the beginning.”

  “Yeah, I think that would be best.”

  The way he ran his thumb across his eyebrow and took a swig of scotch before he started told me I needed to sit down for this. I pulled up a stool.

  “Your mother and I had tried for years to have a baby. She had some female problem I never really understood. We’d given up completely by the time you came along. You were a miracle. Such an incredible surprise.” He took another drink.

  “Go on.”

  “We were so happy. When you’ve wanted something for so long and think you’ll never have it, and then someone tells you fate has changed its mind and you’re getting it after all…well, I don’t know if I can explain how that feels. Anyway, when Elena went into labor, we were ready. The nursery was done. We couldn’t wait to bring you home.”

  I placed my hand on his and nodded.

  “At first everything proceeded as expected. The birth itself was rough, but the doctor said it was normal. But then she started to bleed. They pressed on her stomach and gave her medicine but they couldn’t stop it. She died. But you knew that, didn’t you?” The scotch was gone. He stood and poured himself another.

  I held my tongue. So far, he hadn’t shared anything I hadn’t figured out on my own. But I could feel it coming. There was something else. Something big.

  “I never told you this before, Grateful, and I’m so sorry to admit it. I couldn’t even look at you when you were born. I didn’t hold you. I didn’t name you.” My father’s voice came out shaky, and his eyes welled with tears. “I left. I abandoned you in that hospital the moment I’d found out she was dead.”