Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1)

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Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1) Page 35

by Tiana Laveen


  Emerald looked at him just as seriously, trying to maintain her composure, but that was short lived for she burst out laughing to the point she couldn’t catch her breath.

  A thick vein protruded in the middle of his forehead as he practically choked with laughter, his chair rocking, his whole body trembling. When he regained his equilibrium, the first thought that hit her was how much he reminded her of Sloan. The way his eyes turned to slits while he laughed, the tear inducing cackling, and the feigned look of shock when called out on absolute bullshit. No wonder they butted heads so much; they reminded her of her and Nikki, birds of a feather flocking together.

  “See?” He wrapped the word around more giggles, barely able to speak. “I can’t… I can’t trust him, Emerald.” He finally settled. “He’s just plain crazy…but he’s my best friend… I love him.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Look, uh,” he said, tending to an itch on his forehead. “I’m sorry. I was explaining to my sister the other day that I just want our dad to be happy. I know it sounded bad, but I wasn’t necessarily believing you were a gold digger, though it sure as hell sounded like I’d said it—can’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. Guess I just wanted to find out where your head was at.”

  “Then, once again, Joel, you never asked the right question. See, asking the right questions could save you and others a bunch of wasted time and energy. You need to work on that.” She winked at him before polishing off her coffee. The very last sips were cold, disappointing. Just then, the waitress showed up at the table and refilled their cups.

  When the server turned to leave, he leaned over the table and asked quite seriously, “What should I have asked you, in your opinion?”

  “That’s obvious. You should’ve asked if I love your father…”

  He looked at her for a long while. “Well, do you?”

  “Does a ghost named Peter Jones go bump in the night?”

  This made the man smile, showing all of his teeth. “Hey, he loves ya.”

  “I know he does. We’re happy together.”

  “I’m glad about that. I really am. You know, there’s this—” Just then, Sloan approached the table, his leather jacket swaying open as he tugged at his belt. He wore a goofy grin.

  “I had to drop off some babies at the pool. That bran muffin ran right through me.”

  “Dad!” Joel cackled.

  “You two bein’ good?” Sloan retook his seat. “Where’s Michelle?” He plucked his coffee cup from the table and took a gulp. “She’s Joel’s babysitter. My grandson moans less than he does,” he teased.

  Joel crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. “She went to get a cupcake but then I saw her chattin’ it up with another lady with a kid, too,” he explained. “She’s over there still talking.” He pointed down the way at his sister, who was standing there bouncing her baby and smiling, deep in conversation.

  Sloan looked casually over his shoulder, then tapped the table with his fingertips as if bored…and then, he winked at her and blew her a kiss.

  “I love you, baby. Sorry I took so long.”

  She turned away, her face burning up. Amazing how he could do that to her, make her feel all gushy inside.

  “I love you, too. Are you feeling better now?” She smirked, trying to not picture him in the restroom.

  “Yeah… ten pounds lighter.” Grinning, he leaned back in his seat and slapped his stomach. “Let’s get outta here. Where’s the bill?” He looked about the place.

  “She hasn’t given it to us yet,” Joel said.

  Sloan picked up Michelle’s coffee cup and downed half of it before slamming it back on the table like some cowboy at a saloon.

  “I’m goin’ up. Come with me, Joel.” Sloan got to his feet and pulled his wallet out.

  “I didn’t bring any money.”

  “That’s not why I asked ya to come! I don’t want you alone with Emerald anymore. I know how you are.” He stepped away, Joel trailing close behind.

  Emerald watched them the entire way, noting more similarities between them. Day by day, their relationship would keep healing, just like hers and Nikki’s. Father and son, mother and daughter—the parent and child connection knew no equal. And perhaps it would never be completely understood.

  When a parent loved their child with everything they had, nothing could get in the way of that bond.

  … Not even in death…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lost a Father, Gained a Friend

  The smell of Dad’s leather jacket mixed in with his customary cologne. Dad always smelled good, like Cool Water and amber, and he looked so unbelievably happy now.

  Michelle held Jacob close to her, but not quite close enough… Something inside of the home made her weary, feel even more maternal and protective than she normally was. Her father paced around in the foyer, the cell phone up to his ear, while Joel returned from the kitchen with a bottle of water and pep in his step.

  Dad had asked Emerald to stay in the car, saying he’d be right back. She and her brother had their overnight bags by the door, at the ready, so they’d drive back to Manhattan after brunch. It had been an interesting weekend, an incredible day, fulfilling and full of surprises, too. She grabbed the baby’s bag of necessities, including the huge sky blue teddy bear with crystal eyes Dad had bought for Jacob, one of many gestures from the doting grandfather that he was.

  All that Dad did, every loving expression, sacrifices made, each step taken, meals prepared and shared, and all words, spoken and unspoken, made her feel closer than ever to her father. Bit by bit, as the days wore on, the mystery that was Sloan Kenneth Steel unraveled, became clearer. One of the highlights of the day, perhaps the most crucial and entertaining, had to be Dad’s girlfriend. Michelle enjoyed watching him and Emerald interact. It seemed like their relationship had been fostered over a lifetime, versus mere months.

  Like friends who went a long way together, they finished each other’s sentences, and the woman appreciated Dad’s raw sense of humor. Emerald was quite attractive, possessing a natural sophistication, while being approachable. But, her beauty seemed to truly radiate from the inside out. She didn’t mind admitting to herself, and to Joel, too, that Emerald was a better fit for Dad than Mom ever was.

  They communicated in a language only the two of them could understand, and it was obvious her father had fallen head over heels in love with this woman. Emerald seemed family oriented, the way she went on and on bragging about Nikki, her daughter, super excited about her upcoming wedding. By the end of their meal, Michelle felt as if she personally knew Nikki.

  Still, a sense of sadness took over at one point. For some strange reason, a part of her didn’t want to leave her father’s home. Despite the sorrowful energy traveling the rooms with disturbing tales of hauntings to boot, there was something majestic and warm about the house, too. The dichotomy unnerved her, but perhaps she was biased, ignorant on the matter, and simply trying to scrape up some rhyme and reason for the disturbing stories associated with the place.

  Joel had stated that before the place was blessed by a minister and cleansed from a medium, it had a much different feel to it, one of foreboding, anger, and severe depression. The stars and spirits must’ve aligned and come to some sort of agreement. The armistice was on, at least for the time being.

  She wished she could stay. Their visit was over way too soon. Dad got off the phone with his agent and approached the front door, where they stood.

  “Look, I didn’t ask Emerald inside because I wanna show you two something.” He glanced out through the front window to check if Emerald was still sitting in the car. Michelle saw her leaning against the car window, eyes closed, as if taking a quick catnap. Dad slid a small ebony velvet box out of his jacket pocket and presented it in his palm. A gasp escaped Michelle. Though she hadn’t yet seen the contents, she had a pretty solid idea of what lay inside.

  “Holy shit…” Joel whispered.

&nbs
p; Dad popped the thing open, revealing a large asscher cut diamond ring. The damn thing had to have been at least seven carats.

  “Ohhhh Dad, it’s beautiful! She’s going to love it,” she exclaimed.

  Her father’s complexion deepened with pride as he turned the box slowly from right to left, allowing the light to hit the diamond just right, make it sparkle like icicles dissolving in the hot sun.

  “As you can see, I’m going to ask Emerald to marry me.”

  “Wow, congratulations, Dad,” Joel chimed in, his smile weak, but seemingly sincere.

  “Don’t say congratulations yet.” Dad chuckled. “She hasn’t said yes.”

  “When are you gonna ask her?” Joel questioned as he looked back down at the ring with narrowed eyes.

  “Still working on that, but I just wanted to tell you both before I did it, you know, just outta respect ’nd all.” He stared proudly at the ring in the box, almost as if seeing it himself for the first time, too.

  “So that’s why you wanted us to meet her this weekend.” Dad nodded, a silly smile permanently glued to his face as he slid the ring back in his pocket. “Now I see why you were pushing the issue for us to come back up.” Michelle stepped to him and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss on the cheek. His beard brushed against her chin, giving her familiar comfort. As she stepped back, he gingerly took Jacob from her arms, kissed the top of the baby’s head, and held him carefully against his big, strong frame.

  “Heeeeey big guy!” He squeezed the baby’s tiny wrist with a gentle grasp, eliciting a toothless grin from the child. “I hate that I don’t get to see you all the time, baby boy. Grandpa loves you a whole lot, Jacob.” Dad rubbed his nose playfully against the baby’s. When he looked back up at her, his expression was serious. He patted Jacob’s back and held him protectively to his chest. “Michelle, bring Jacob up more often, please. I’ll be down to see him more, too… I miss ’im so much.” He handed the baby back to her and sighed, as if hating to release him.

  “I will, Dad. I promise.” She gathered the blanket around her child and cradled him just so against her.

  “Well, I know you two need to get back home. Are you still going over to Turtle Bay to visit your friend tonight?” Dad asked Joel.

  “Yeah.” Joel grinned. He was dating a new girl and had told Dad all about her.

  “I’ll be over that way next week for a meeting. Well, don’t let me hold you two up. I’ll give you a call tonight… Gonna go ahead and drive Emerald home.”

  They headed out onto the porch, the wood creaking and groaning under their weight as they marched down the steps. Dad gave them both another hug, then joined Emerald who still appeared sound asleep in his car. With sadness in his eyes, Joel dashed over to Dad’s Eldorado and said his goodbyes to Emerald, who’d suddenly awakened from her catnap. He came back to his car, avoiding eye contact with her, slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Michelle didn’t miss the way he gripped the steering wheel, a veil of restlessness shrouding him.

  Joel was an adult, yet he’d had a harder time with their parents’ divorce than she had. He’d looked up to them as an example of what a good relationship should be like, and when their marriage fell apart, he felt a bit lost, unsure—maybe afraid he’d forget how to love. Mom blamed Dad, and Dad blamed Mom, but Michelle blamed fate. The truth of the matter was, sometimes, two people simply weren’t meant to be together for a lifetime, be it a parent and child, or a relationship of a romantic nature. Things happened that caused rifts—terse words, untimely deaths, mysterious disappearances, and sometimes, a mutual disdain. She’d already accepted that Dad and Mom had been seasonal lovers, drifting in and out of each other’s world at just the pivotal time, merely to create two people and to teach each other several lessons along the way.

  And boy was Dad dealt a mighty blow. He didn’t deserve what Mom did to him, but it was over now, water under the bridge. People made mistakes and bad choices; this was one of the pitfalls of being human. Michelle looked around her father’s property, finding the magic of the place undeniable. The scattering of snow was such a pretty sight. She opened the back door to Joel’s car, strapped Jacob in the baby carrier, then made her way up to Dad’s cherished vehicle. Emerald rolled the window down. Predictions of the future sounded out in her head.

  This is going to be my stepmother. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m so happy for both of them…and, I like her. She’s funny, ballsy, and seems really sweet, too… but most of all, she’s good for my father…

  The thought made her smile. Reaching inside, she wrapped her arm around the woman. “It was so nice to meet you today, Emerald. Dad has said nothing but wonderful things about you before we met and now I can totally see why.”

  Emerald laughed lightly and returned the hug. “It was nice to meet you too, Michelle. Jacob is adorable. You’re lucky to have him. Anyway, I hope to see you, Joel, and the baby again soon.”

  “You will.” She stood straight, a hand on her hip. “Dad, drive safe!”

  “I’m the definition of safe!” He chuckled.

  “In a parallel universe, maybe. I’m serious; no Nascar stuff, speed demon!” Michelle teased. Waving goodbye, she made her way back over to Joel and got inside the warm car. Her brother had the engine running, the heat pumping through the vents full blast, while Jacob made silly noises, his pacifier bobbing in and out of his mouth as he looked about in wonder. After checking on her son, she got situated.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, strapping his seatbelt across his chest, the click of the belt loud against soft waves of music from a commercial jingle drifting from the speakers.

  “Yeah, I’m ready now.” She pulled her harness across her waist, tossed a look at Jacob from the rearview mirror then adjusted her seat to a more relaxed position as they pulled out of the long driveway, her father not far behind them. They stayed back to back like a procession, then split once they met the main road. Dad got smaller and smaller until he was only a memory. She missed him already… his smell, his smile, his humor. Memories of childhood returned to her while the sounds of Justin Timberlake’s, ‘Can’t Stop the Feeling’ played on the radio. As the tires of her brother’s red Pontiac rounded a corner, flashes of the past came to the forefront…

  Such as piggy back rides on Dad’s shoulders and him galloping about pretending to be a horse, neighing and tromping about while she laughed until her voice grew hoarse.

  Or the bedtime stories he’d make up at the turn of a dime—usually detailing something absurd such as a seahorse eating princess mermaid who didn’t want a prince, but instead a gazillion stocks and bonds with Exxon Mobil, an underwater village made of sushi, and a beach house in Maui. The silliest tales, entertaining to the hilt, which he’d create especially for her, making her feel extraordinary.

  It came as no surprise to her when her father began to write fiction and was not only successful, but took the world by storm. His mind was a curious playground, hidden behind an iron clad, barbed wire, electric fence with a shark, poisonous snake, and alligator filled moat that dared a person to venture over for a closer look. Regardless of his ridiculous standards in self-protection, she knew her father well.

  She’d known who he was all along, and was happy to see him getting up in the wee hours of the morning to write; then, after putting her and Joel to bed, he’d have a go at it once again. She had deep admiration for him—a big shot who drafted thought provoking articles by day for an established paper in New York City, then, by night, a creative writer, penning stories of things out-of-this-world and bizarre. He was a big, funny man with a deep voice, a crazy, booming laugh, and enormous hands that could crush the world yet carry her sleeping body to bed with the greatest of ease and the gentlest touch.

  He was the father who’d lie back looking up at the sun during their family picnics in Central Park, daydreaming of things she was curious to know about. He’d given sage advice to her over the years, most of which she paid
little attention to until it was far too late, but still, she held his words close to her heart. Such as the times he’d told her, ‘He didn’t deserve you,’ every single time she’d gotten her heart broken. And when he reminded her, when she was lost, lacking direction on what to do with her life, that everyone had special gifts; all she had to do was look within to find hers.

  Was he living by example? Did Dad’s gifts shine bright, too? They certainly did, but maybe it had taken him so long to believe in himself because he didn’t have what she and Joel had in their very own home on a daily basis: a cheerleader, an encourager, a protector.

  Dad barely remembered his mother, and his father had been so emotionally abusive, his treatment left scars that never fully healed. He tried the best he could, wishing to be the father he’d never had but always wanted. Dad generally closed himself off from others, but opened up for her when she needed him most. When she’d messed up after he’d warned her of impending danger as a result of her decisions as a free-spirited teenager, he rarely judged her, only offered her a warm hug and support. She and Joel had ‘different’ fathers from a relationship standpoint, but it was the same man… There was no denying this.

  At times, during their formative years, she and her brother had arguments and brief rifts because they couldn’t see eye to eye about him. Joel wanted to experience the soft touch Dad had given to her, to find out what it was like to not feel lesser than; while she wanted some of the tough love he’d given to Joel. Perhaps Dad had a bit of gender bias, and believed he needed to be gentler with a girl. She’d never put a handle on this, but Dad was indeed a little old school; such traditional thinking fit his persona. She stared down in her lap, fighting back tears of joy as she grabbed and released the soft cotton of her pants. After regaining her composure, she glanced at Joel. A tear streamed down his cheek and, with a gentle hand, she brushed it away.

 

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