by Ashlyn Chase
“Hollywood?” Charlotte interrupted excitedly. “You mean where the game shows happen?” She lowered her voice to mimic an announcer. “Coming to you from the entertainment capital of the world, Hollywood, California...”
Ethan chuckled. “Yeah. That Hollywood. She moved there right after high school and lived there for about ten years.”
“Ohhh!” He heard Charlotte clapping.
“She didn’t like it,” Ethan said and stretched his legs. “Well, maybe she did for a while, but eventually her hopes of an acting career died there. It’s not uncommon.”
“She couldn’t get a job spinning the wheel or holding the briefcases? But she’s so pretty.”
“That’s the problem. There are a lot of pretty people out there all hoping to get the same parts.”
“I see. That’s very sad. So she had no job and no husband. She could wind up like me. A lot of us women—”
Ethan held up one hand. “No. She has a job that she loves now. It’s not an acting job, but it suits her personality. She takes care of animals.”
“But animals wouldn’t know how pretty she is.”
“Maybe that’s part of the attraction. She doesn’t have to be pretty for animals to love her. They just love her because she loves them.”
“Ah. I see now. But at least you know she’s capable of love. Maybe she’ll love you too someday.”
“That’s just it. I don’t think she wants to—even if she could.” Ethan frowned.
“Humph. Now I’m mad at her again.”
“I didn’t know you were mad at her before.”
“Well, I didn’t like how she reacted to me the first time she saw me. Maybe she’s so used to pretty people she doesn’t like imperfection. I’m not ugly. I just have one little dagger sticking out of my head. Is she the reason you think you’re not attractive?”
“No. Well, yeah.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Okay. I’m going to be serious. You know it doesn’t happen often, so listen up. You are not ugly. In fact, you’re very handsome. Granted, I’ve known you since you were born, but I don’t think that matters. There was a time when you were little and cute and a time when you were gawky and shy. Then you grew into a handsome young man and changed again. You were confident, even cocky. And if you haven’t noticed, you’re changing even now. The young man was full of mischief. You said you wanted to play the field, and you did. A lot! How can you think you’re ugly when so many girls liked you? Now, just because of this one girl you doubt yourself? She doesn’t deserve you.”
Ethan shook his head. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m still confused by the mixed message.”
“Seriously, if I had a body, I wouldn’t charge you more than once or twice.”
He laughed.
“But if there was one itty bitty thing I could change about you...”
Ethan groaned. “Okay. Tell me. What is it?”
“Your hair. I think you should grow it long while it’s still all one lovely dark color. Someday it will turn gray and then white. Or thin—even bald. Why not flaunt it while you’ve got it.”
Ethan laughed. “Long hair went out in the eighties. Besides, could you see me on the boat with my hair in my eyes all day long?”
“In my day a man would grow his long flowing locks over his shoulders and tie it back when he needed to keep it out of his face.”
“In your day men wore white lace.”
She made a flippant noise and then said, “You asked. I told you. Now, if you don’t want my advice, don’t ask for it. Just turn on the TV before you leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well, I’d storm off and slam the door, but I can’t.”
“C’mon, Charlotte. Don’t be mad. I’ll turn on the TV, but I have other things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Like researching artificial insemination. She said it’s expensive. Maybe I can offer her a loan.”
Charlotte laughed. “I still think you should just give her your seed and be gone. It would serve her right. She’ll think about you every night at about two a.m. when she has to get up with a wailing infant.”
* * * *
Brigit heard the phone and wasn’t sure if it was part of her dream or not. When it didn’t stop ringing, she rolled over and lifted the receiver.
“Brigit? Can you come over?”
She sat up in her canopy bed and rubbed her eyes. “Ethan? Are you okay? What time is it?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s early. Did I wake you up?”
“Kind of.”
“Sorry about that. I was just reading up on artificial insemination and—well, it would be better if you come over to discuss this.”
“What’s to discuss? I told you I can’t afford it.”
“But it’s not that expensive. It’s only about seven hundred dollars per treatment in Boston.”
Brigit chuckled. “Your ‘only seven hundred dollars’ is ‘Eek! Seven hundred whole dollars!’ to me. And it’s rare if it happens to work on the first try. It can take a normal person up to four tries. Add to that someone like me with possible fertility issues, and you can see where the bills would pile up quickly.”
“Pardon me for bringing this up, but I thought your parents were rich.”
Brigit frowned. “My mother used to say that divorcing well was every bit as important as marrying well. I refuse to ‘get rich’ that way.”
“I admire that, but I could loan you the money. You wouldn’t have to pay me back for, well, I don’t know. We could work it out, so it won’t be a hardship.”
She laid back on her pillow. “That’s really sweet of you, Ethan, but if I pay you back at a rate I could afford with normal interest, I might get you paid back by the time the little tyke goes to college—and only on a full scholarship.”
“Bridge. Work with me here. I’m trying to help you.”
“I know, and like I said, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me. That’s why you’re the right man for the job. Don’t you see?”
“Ah, no. I’m confused. Because I’d like to pay for your artificial insemination, I’m the right guy to get you pregnant and walk away?”
“Because you care about my happiness. You want to help me make my dream come true.”
“Of course I do.”
She lowered her voice to a sexy whisper. “Not every guy would care. In fact, I think you’re one of the very few. You’re special, Ethan. I mean that in the best way.”
“Ms. Love, are you trying to seduce me?”
She chuckled. “Well, yeah. I’ve been trying for a few weeks now, and I’m not doing a very good job. I thought I’d be waking up with you beside me by now.”
Silence on the other end of the phone had her wondering what she’d said wrong.
“Would you give me breakfast?”
She laughed. “Sure. That’s the least I could do. I’ll cook you a big fortifying dinner the night before too, if you like.”
“Mmm...that sounds tempting.”
“Good. Think about it, then. Just say the word and I’ll show up at your place with a meatloaf, potatoes, and a dozen eggs.”
“My place?” After a brief pause he spit out, “Oh, yeah. Because I can’t know where you live. Goddess forbid.”
“I think it’s for the best. I can promise you, I don’t live in a hovel. It’s a very cheerful and comfortable place...for two.”
Silence on the other end made her wonder if she was right back where she’d started.
“Fine. I’ll think about it some more. Do you have cats, by the way?”
“No. Just one dog, Goldie.”
The dog heard her name, barked, and pushed her way into the bedroom, wagging her tail. Brigit sat up and reached over to give her a morning pat and scratch.
“Oh.”
“Why did you ask about cats?”
“I did some research and read where cats can carry some kind o
f illness to pregnant women. Something called Toxoplasmosis that can cause birth defects. You might have to quit your job.”
Brigit sighed. “I know about toxoplasmosis, but pregnant women have cats as pets and they manage just fine. You shouldn’t handle their feces. That’s all.”
“So how do pregnant women with cats change the litter? Oh, that’s right. They probably have husbands or live in boyfriends who’ll do it for them.”
She smiled slyly. “You were hoping I had a cat?”
“No. I was concerned about the baby. That’s who would suffer.”
Brigit felt about two inches tall. Ethan wasn’t like most men. He wasn’t trying to get into her pants or into her wallet. He was honestly just concerned about her long-range goal. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re a pretty special guy. Can I bring you a picnic lunch today?”
“You don’t have to work?”
“No. They give me days off for good behavior.”
“Okay. That would be nice.” She swore she could hear the smile in his voice. “I still have to stay close to the harbor. Maybe there’s a section of town that’s not haunted and we can have a nice quiet lunch together.”
“We can hope.”
“Do you want to meet in Market Square? Say at one o’clock?”
“Sure. I’ll be the one with the pink cashmere sweater, holding a picnic basket.”
He chuckled. “I’d know you if you were wearing nothing but the basket.”
They rang off and Brigit hopped out of bed. For some reason, even though he hadn’t agreed to her terms, she felt like they were getting closer. They were certainly growing closer as friends. She found herself thinking about him in spicier terms too...and liking it.
* * * *
At exactly one o’clock Ethan strolled into Market Square. Brigit sat on one of the benches chatting to a woman with a covered stroller.
Every time he looked at her she was always beautiful, but today she showed a sad kind of beauty he hadn’t noticed lately. Maybe it was just the wistful way she watched the stroller glide back and forth as the woman was lulling the child.
He tucked his hands in his pockets and approached slowly.
The mother spotted him first. “Oh, this must be your friend.”
“Yes.” Brigit gave him a welcoming smile. “Well, it was nice chatting with you.” She rose and gave Ethan a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, you.”
“Hi yourself. Are you ready to go exploring?”
She picked up the basket and said, “Lead the way.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the street. They walked in silence toward a small marina.
Glancing over at her he asked, “So far, so good?”
“All clear of spirit entities.”
“Good. There are benches with chess tables built in over here. Do you play?”
“No, but I remember how to play checkers—I think.”
“Been a while?”
“Yeah. I used to play against my grandfather. I rarely won. I hope you didn’t come with chess pieces in your pocket.”
He laughed. “I’m prepared for a lot, but not everything.”
“This is a pretty spot. Any chance you’d be comfortable sitting on the dock itself, dangling our feet over the water?”
He smirked at her. “Really?”
She laughed. “Oh yeah. Look who I’m talking to—a tug boat captain.”
He held her hand and guided her to the dock and let her set out the spread she’d brought. She went all out. Checkered table cloth, club sandwiches, deviled eggs, two bags of chips, a pitcher of what looked like iced tea and a couple of metal tumblers. A chilly breeze blew off the water at the same time the sun hid behind a cloud and she shivered.
“Cold?” He was already removing his all-weather jacket.
“No. I’m fine.” The sun emerged. “Really. The sun feels good soaking into my skin.”
He suddenly envied the sun, wishing he could caress her arms, shoulders and back. “Yeah, but it won’t be warm for long. Fall is in the air. The leaves are turning and Samhain will be here before you know it.”
“I know. I hate to admit it, but I enjoy Halloween as much as our Samhain traditions. If the Judeo-Christians realized what a solemn holiday it was for us, they’d be disappointed.”
“How will you handle that when your child wants to trick or treat?”
She smiled. “I don’t see any reason he or she can’t celebrate costumes and candy once a year and honor our ancestors too.”
She gazed at him for a few reflective seconds. Finally Brigit grinned. “You said, ‘when’ and ‘your’.”
“What?”
“You said when your child wants to trick or treat.”
“Ah. So you figure you’ve slowly seduced me to the dark side.”
The grin disappeared. “No. There’s no dark side. I’m just happy you’re finally seeing it from my side.”
“I guess I’ve always been able to see your side, Bridge. I just hadn’t realized how committed you were to the idea.”
“I was straight with you from the very beginning.”
“Yes, you were. In a way, it was refreshing.”
Her lips were parted slightly and she was gazing up at him. For some reason, he felt drawn to kiss her. What the hell. If she pulls away, that says something too.
He kneeled in front of her, so the tablecloth wasn’t between them. Then he swooped in and touched his lips to hers, gently. She didn’t recoil. He added more pressure, and to his delighted surprise, she was kissing him back. He angled his head and opened his mouth to see if she’d accept his tongue. She sought his. He curled his arm around her and pulled her closer. Slipping her arms around his neck, she rose onto her knees and melded against him.
After a long languorous kiss, he reluctantly let her pull away. “That was nice. I wasn’t sure you’d let me kiss you.”
“Ethan.” She chided “If I want you to fuck me, why wouldn’t I let you kiss me?”
And the romantic moment is gone.
He reached for a sandwich and settled beside her. “Brigit, would you mind using the term “make love” instead of fuck?”
She unwrapped her sandwich and seemed to be thinking about it. “You’re a dude. I thought you all said fuck.”
“When all we’re talking about is the act.” He added, “Don’t all children deserve to be conceived in love?”
“Are you serious?” She stared at him incredulously. “That’s a nice thought, but it’s not reality.”
“I didn’t say it was. I just asked if they didn’t deserve that.”
She chewed as he waited for an answer. At last, she nodded. “Yes, but don’t you agree that sometimes the love is between the couple? The child who isn’t wanted is at a distinct disadvantage. Besides, our child would be conceived in love.”
He leaned back and stared at her. “Are you saying you love me?”
“Of course, I love you—as a friend and fellow coven member.”
Ethan groaned. “Great. Friend zone, then.”
“No,” she protested. “It’s more than that.”
“What exactly?”
“I don’t know if I can put it into words.”
“Try.”
She inhaled deeply. “Okay. I’m not stringing you along to feed my ego like a high school girl who knows a guy has a crush on her. I respect you. I like you for who you are. I enjoy your company. We’re more than friends. We’re comrades in a coven of shared beliefs and values. We have more in common and know each other on a deeper level than many lovers who’ve been together for years.”
He mulled that over while he enjoyed his sandwich, wondering if what she described was a love he could accept with the limitations she wanted to impose.
By the time lunch was finished, he’d made a decision.
“Brigit. I’ll help you, but I’m not signing that damned contract.”
She gasped. “You will?
I mean, you’ll give me the baby I want with the limitations I asked for, but we’ll do it with a handshake or something?”
He gazed out to sea. “Or something. I had a second lawyer look at the contract and he laughed. He said it would never stand up in a court of law. No judge in the country will make it okay for a father to shirk child support.”
“So I got rooked out of $200.00?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But...you’ll still help me?”
“We need to hammer out some details.”
“I already did that. Everything is spelled out in the contract. If it’s an agreement between you and me and no one else knows, you won’t be responsible. You haven’t talked to anyone other than the lawyers have you?”
“Not directly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I posed the hypothetical question to Dru and Keith, but they both guessed it was you who asked me to do it.”
“Damn.” She bit her lower lip. “But they’d never turn you in to the police or court system or anything.”
“Probably not, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have an attack of conscience and turn myself in.”
She leaned back and stared at him like he’d gone mad. Maybe he had.
Chapter 4
Brigit entered Myranda’s occult shop, which stood on a busy street corner in Portsmouth. A young lady she hadn’t met rang up a customer at the cash register, while various browsers filled the rest of the store. Yvonne looked over from one of the display cases and waved to her.
“Hey, Brigit. Are you here to pick up the donations for the animal shelter?”
“Yes, and I was wondering if Myranda might have time for a reading.”
“She’s already with someone, but if you want to hang around...”
Brigit shrugged. “Sure. I’m not in a hurry.”
She became one of the browsers and noticed some new items. She leaned in close to admire one of the wire wrapped pendants. It was a large moonstone cabochon with intricate silver curlicues gently holding it in place.
“Would you like to try that on?” Yvonne asked.
“No. I’m trying to save some money. I have to get used to going without pretty things.”
“Awww...” Yvonne crooned. “I hope whatever you’re saving for is worth it. I’m no good at delaying gratification.” She flashed her hands sporting about ten silver rings. “See?”
