by Linda Wisdom
“Your explanations get weaker all the time,” Patrick pointed out.
“No thanks to you two.”
“Chloe is so happy this is turning out so well.” Marian reached behind Alex and flipped the sandwiches. “Dear, you should watch these more carefully. They were ready to burn.”
Alex breathed deeply three times and seriously thought about primal-scream therapy. She wondered if calling Dr. Ruth could give her some answers on how to handle her parents, who just happen to be ghosts, so they don’t blow it with the newest man in her life. The idea blossomed. There was no doubt in her mind that she didn’t want to lose Michael. The only scary part was that it was happening so quickly and she couldn’t help but fear for a relationship that was growing at such a rapid speed. What she’d shared with Craig in the beginning was nothing, compared to what she’d already had with Michael.
Was there something going on that she hadn’t figured out yet? A frightening thought kept sneaking in. What if her parents had something to do with all this? What if somehow they had bewitched her and Michael into believing they were falling for each other? Perhaps even falling in love? Wouldn’t that be a miserable joke on everyone, after all her high and mighty talk about never falling for another doctor? The idea was enough to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Don’t even think it, Alex,” she ordered herself, feeling the anxiety well up inside. What if that was it? How would she handle knowing all this was nothing more than a ghostly machination that could disappear for good when her parents did?
A pair of arms suddenly snaked themselves around her waist and pulled her back against a warm bare chest. “Talking to yourself is a sure sign you’re losing your marbles,” he murmured in her ear.
She couldn’t help smiling. “Is that a medical opinion?”
“My usual medical opinion is complete bed rest for that particular ailment. Of course, it does depend on the patient.”
“Is sex the only thing that boy thinks about?” Patrick snorted, watching them.
Alex’s eyes snapped open. “Get out!”
Michael’s embrace loosened. “Excuse me?”
“No, not you,” she babbled, turning in his arms. “Suzi Q was in here and I’m trying not to add to her frustration. Ever since that traumatic trip to the vet when her love life was taken care of once and for all, she hates to see any sign of affection between two human beings.”
Michael stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The cat is in the living room using her scratching post.”
She uttered a nervous laugh. “I must have thought I saw her.”
He reached behind her and switched off the frying pan. “Alex, what is wrong?” he asked quietly. “Is this going too fast for you? Is it me?”
She knew how hard it must have been for him to ask her that last question. She caressed his cheek with her fingertips, loving the slightly rough texture. “Don’t ever think that, Michael. While I do feel, sometimes, that this has happened too fast, I also know that you’re the best thing to come along in my life.” She injected every ounce of sincerity she had into her voice. She wanted him to realize she was telling the truth.
His features visibly relaxed. “I made myself sound like a fool.”
“More like a man concerned with a budding relationship.” She pushed him gently back a pace. “The glasses are in the cabinet to your right. Why don’t you get us something to drink while I get our sandwiches ready. I’ll have some Diet Coke.”
While Alex worked, she glared at her parents several times, sending them silent messages they preferred to ignore. She added potato chips to the plates and set them on the table in the dining area.
While he bit into his sandwich Michael eyed Suzi Q, who now stood near the draperies, looking up at thin air and yowling her little heart out.
“You have a very strange cat,” he commented.
Alex saw what he couldn’t. Her cat was talking away to Marian. And with her luck, her mother understood cat language.
“The little snitch.” She glared at her unsuspecting cat. “She’s probably giving her all the gory details.”
“So who’s she supposed to be talking to?”
“My mother,” she said unthinking.
He frowned. “I thought your mother died.”
“She did, but that didn’t stop her and my father from coming back to change my life around.” It wasn’t until then that Alex realized just exactly what she’d said.
Surprisingly, Michael didn’t bat an eye. “My dad thought for sure that my aunt came back to make his life nuts,” he commented. “And if anything could do it, it would be my Aunt Chloe.”
Alex snapped to attention at that. “Your Aunt Chloe?”
He nodded. “She was something else. Some would say she was the family oddball. I always viewed her as someone magic who breezed in from foreign lands with colorful stories and African tribal war masks or South American fertility idols that drove my mom nuts. Her husband died early in their marriage, leaving her a wealthy woman. Her first trip was to get away from the memories. After that I think she just plain enjoyed traveling. She died in an airplane crash in Japan several years ago. I still miss her,” he said quietly.
“I don’t think you believed us when we said he had an Aunt Chloe,” Marian chided her daughter. “Just remember Beth’s reaction to your story.”
Alex idly tore the crusts from her sandwich. “Michael, do you think that people who die before their time can come back to resolve a family matter?” She hoped her question sounded casual enough.
“As a member of the logical scientific community I would have to say no, but who knows what can happen,” he replied, picking up a potato chip and biting into it. “It’s a pretty unknown factor. Why?”
“Would you think I’m crazy if I told you that my parents returned the night of my thirtieth birthday, because they died before their time, and they won’t leave until they see me properly married?” she asked in a rush.
He studied her long and hard. There was no humor in her voice or face, just a longing to be believed. “And I can’t see them?”
She shook her head, quickly pushing back the heavy strand of hair that strayed across her lips. “Just me and Suzi Q, which can make it very strange at times—such as now when she’s talking to my mother. The morning when breakfast burned in my kitchen? That was my mother. She always burns the meals. And no matter what they say, I think they had something to do with what happened at the softball field— although they swore up and down they can’t leave the apartment.”
“I’d like to know what happened at the softball field,” Patrick spoke up.
“Not now!” Alex turned on her father. She appealed to Michael. “My father may be dead, but that hasn’t stopped him from acting like a heavy-handed father out of a fifties movie.”
Michael didn’t speak for several moments. “As I said, my dad talked about Aunt Chloe coming back. Her reason was because she didn’t feel he was administering her trust properly. She said she was going to stick around until she knew he was being true to her wishes. It sounds as if they come back with the best intentions. Just like your parents have. I gather they didn’t approve of your investment-banker friend.”
She shook her head. “Dad could never remember Jason’s name and Mom thought he was a stuffed shirt. They were both ecstatic when he ended up in jail. Jail, oh no! I turned down the volume on my answering machine and Simon probably called about the newspaper interview.” She started to get up, but Michael grasped her wrist.
“Considering it is four o’clock in the morning, I don’t think he’d appreciate a call,” he said dryly. “Finish your sandwich and then we’ll talk more about your parents.”
She was a bit suspicious. “When I told Beth about them she decided my concussion had done more damage than anyone thought, and she was getting ready to call the men in the white coats to come and take me away. My parents warned me that no one would believe me, but they kept talking about
your Aunt Chloe and how she wanted to see you happy.” She held her hands out to him. “That’s what scares me, Michael. What if they used some kind of ghostly hocus-pocus to make us fall for each other?” There, she finally voiced the fear that had been growing inside of her.
“Honestly, Alex, we’re ghosts, not witches,” Patrick said with disgust.
Michael took hold of her hands, massaging the cold limbs. “If so, we’ve got a lot to thank them for.”
“Do we? Because if it’s true what we have isn’t real,” she insisted.
“Alex, what are you trying to pull now?” Patrick roared, throwing his arms around in wide circles.
“Are you trying to say that I only think I’m falling in love with you? That it’s nothing more than a ghost’s trick?” Michael said quietly, too quietly.
There was no mistaking the pain in his voice. “No, never that. It’s just that if you knew some of the other stunts they pulled you’d understand why I’m so hesitant.” She paused to gather up her thoughts. “All of this started because of them, not me. Michael, I didn’t send you those flowers. They did.”
A trace of skepticism crossed his face. “How?”
“By using my Visa card!” she screeched. “All right, it sounds so crazy it isn’t even funny, but it’s true. I ended up in the emergency room because I was starting to tell Beth about them and my father tripped me. That’s how I fell and hurt my head.” In between words, she tore off tiny pieces of her sandwich and popped them into her mouth. “I’m making it worse, aren’t I? Okay, just lock me up in that padded cell. I’ll go quietly.”
She looked so sad Michael knew he had to put her out of her misery as soon as possible.
“Are they still here?”
She nodded sporting a hangdog look on her face.
“And they somehow know my Aunt Chloe?”
Another short nod.
“How can they know her?”
“Any time I ask how something is done all I get is that it’s a trade secret. That would be the answer to your question, too,” she said softly.
“If Michael wants proof, tell him that his aunt still wears those incredible pink harlequin sunglasses straight from the fifties,” Marian told Alex. “And that she told me about the time he was ten and broke his collarbone falling out of a tree where he’d been sitting with a pair of binoculars watching the girl across the street undress in her bedroom.”
Alex’s misery suddenly disappeared as she burst out laughing. “You sly thing,” she chided Michael. “You were a ten-year-old Peeping Tom!”
Now Michael was the shocked one. “What?”
“You broke your collarbone falling out of a tree where you’d been spying on a neighbor of the feminine persuasion,” she chortled. “I love it! And you tried to tell me you were bland and boring. Puleeze!”
“Her name was Missy,” Marian went on.
Alex nodded. “And her name was Missy.”
“This is crazy,” he finally announced.
“Now do you believe me?”
“You’re making an excellent case for yourself.” He pushed away the rest of his sandwich. His earlier hunger was gone. There was no way Alex could have known about that embarrassing time in his life. Not when he’d grown up in a different town, much less a different state, than she had. No one at the hospital would have known about something he hadn’t even thought of in years. And now Alex, of all people, was the one to remind him! “And I thought this only happened in books and movies,” he muttered.
“You weren’t the one to wake up and find them staring at you while you were convinced you were dying from a hangover,” she said dryly. “Think how I felt? Actually, when I first woke up I thought I was dead. My head felt as if a herd of buffalo had run through it and I couldn’t see very straight except for my parents standing in front of me. Then I tried to convince myself they were part of my hangover. Except they refused to go away and they still do.”
“Tell him why,” Marian chimed in.
Alex frowned at her mother. “I’d rather not.”
Michael looked puzzled. “You’d rather not what?”
She sighed. “I’d rather not remind you that the reason they’re here is to see me properly married off and I’m afraid they’re eyeing you for their next victim. I’d understand it if you suddenly decided you had an important appointment elsewhere,” her voice trailed off.
A corner of Michael’s mouth lifted. “Were they around last night while we…?”
She looked horrified at the thought. “No! They wouldn’t dare do that!” She turned to her mother. “Would you?”
“Of course not. We respect your privacy.”
Michael stood up and pulled Alex to her feet. “Are you through destroying that sandwich?”
She nodded, wary of what was coming next.
“Go throw some clothes on, while I clear up in here,” he ordered. “We are going out.”
“Where can we go at four in the morning?” Now she was confused.
“You said they can’t leave the apartment, right?” Michael said, picking up their plates and carrying them into the kitchen.
“That’s what they assured me, yes.”
He turned around and grinned at her. “Then they can’t invade my apartment, can they?”
“Do you mean you believe me?” she asked in a hushed whisper. “That you don’t think I’m ready for the funny farm or should be fitted for a size-eight straitjacket?”
Michael hesitated, but he knew he could do no more than give her the truth. She deserved nothing less. “I’m not sure, but I’d like to believe I’m open-minded enough to think it, though. Not to mention you’re bringing up a part of my colorful past few people would know about,” he said wryly. “Go get dressed so I can have my shirt back, and we’ll try a less populated place. That is, if you want to.”
Alex fairly flew into her bedroom and returned in five minutes dressed in dark green twill pants and a coordinated print shirt, with Michael’s shirt in one hand and her purse in the other. What he noticed most was the glow in her eyes. This was one lady who admitted she wasn’t sure if what they shared was real, but she was obviously going to give it her all until they could find out for sure.
“I was right,” Alex pronounced, looking around the living room with open satisfaction. “All the color made a big difference.” She adjusted the tall vase with silk flowers a fraction of an inch and stood back, gazing at it with a critical eye. “It really should be something a bit more oval,” she decided.
“Enough decorating,” he ordered, walking up beside her and handing her a glass of wine.
Alex accepted the glass before settling herself on the couch, curling up with her back resting against Michael’s chest after he stretched out on top of the cushions with a throw pillow behind his head.
“Considering it’s nearly dawn, I should be so tired I can’t think straight,” she commented, sipping her wine.
“Considering our lack of sleep, we should be unconscious,” he said dryly, rubbing her neck with his supple fingers. “Besides, the wine will knock us both out.”
Alex closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax under Michael’s ministrations.
“You know, I love my parents, but some of the stuff going on now is enough to drive me crazy,” she murmured. “Before I had a chance to worry how they did one thing, I’d learn they’d gotten into even more trouble. I still think they were behind the fiasco at the restaurant with Jason. Cherries Jubilee doesn’t just slide down a table and end up in a man’s lap without some help. And we won’t even talk about the spirals of smoke that kept appearing and disappearing around a no-smoking room.”
Michael didn’t say anything as he continued rubbing the taut muscles along the top of her back. He had his own opinion regarding Alex’s ghostly parents, but he didn’t want to voice them out loud. Especially when he knew his comments would not be welcome. He admitted he couldn’t figure out how Alex knew about his one indiscretion during his tenth year. No
t even the shapely fourteen-year-old Missy Scott ever knew that she was the reason behind his broken collarbone. For now, he’d remain silent and let Alex ramble on. Perhaps if she talked enough, he would figure out where all this came from.
Alex’s voice slowed and her body turned boneless until Michael heard nothing but her soft indrawn breaths. He smiled. She’d talked herself to sleep. With a bit of careful maneuvering, he picked her up and carried her into his bedroom. In no time, both were undressed and under the covers with Michael pulling her back into his arms. He couldn’t help smiling. He was right the first time, when he sensed things would be vastly different with Alex around. He decided he liked it. And loved her. Now all he had to do was thoroughly convince her that keeping this particular doctor in her life would be the best thing she could do. After all that had happened, he didn’t think he’d have all that much trouble. He smiled. Well, if he did, it appeared there were two ghosts on his side, and right now he’d take any assistance he could get.
“Michael, for a doctor your eating habits are deplorable.” Alex studied the almost bare interior of the refrigerator.
“No use in keeping food here when I’m rarely home,” he explained, pouring two cups of coffee. “As long as I have some caffeine to get me going long enough to reach the hospital or the nearest fast-food restaurant, I’m happy.”
“Fast food? Did you sleep through nutrition classes? Don’t you lecture patients on the high amounts of cholesterol, fat and sodium found in those places? Michael, you should be ashamed of yourself,” she tsked, shaking her head. “A fine example you’re setting.”
“Don’t forget I’ve seen your refrigerator. At least I don’t keep a cheesecake in the freezer.”
“I’m keeping it there for a friend, so she won’t be tempted to eat it.”
The expression on Michael’s face told her what he thought of that explanation.
“Would you believe it’s part of my emergency rations for when the big earthquake hits? I don’t want to be left without my favorite cheesecake,” she asked brightly.
“You’re getting better,” he admitted, admiring the quick turns her mind navigated.
