“Can they not do surgery for any of that?” he asked.
“They can,” Taryn nodded and took a sip of her drink. “But they don’t like to. Surgery is risky for people with EDS and they try not to do it unless there’s an emergency. It’s harder for us to heal, sometimes the surgery doesn’t work at all, and they can actually do more damage because of the fragility of our tissue. Then there’s the scar tissue that forms.”
“So it’s just pain medication?”
“Yep. That and water-based physical therapy. I do that at least once a year now. That’s all insurance will pay.”
“Damn.”
“So what’s after this for you?” Taryn asked.
“Don’t know yet. I’ve been asked to teach for a semester or two at a university in Vermont. I might do that. It would just be adjunct, and I couldn’t commit to it until I get this book finished, but it would be different and I’m up for something new.”
“Speaking of Vermont…I’m about to hire contractors to work on my aunt’s house in New Hampshire.”
David slapped the table with enthusiasm. “Now you’re talking! What are they going to do first?”
If there was anything Taryn and David loved most, it was old houses. There weren’t many they didn’t like. When Taryn’s aunt, Sarah, had passed away she’d left Taryn the big, rambling farm house up in New Hampshire. It was in disrepair, however, and in need of a ton of work. Taryn estimated that it would take about a year, and a bucket of money, to get it set right again but she was up for the challenge. She couldn’t just let it sit there and rot.
“I’m going to have the roof set, first,” she said. “There are some pretty big gaps in it and I’m trying to avoid more water damage. I want to save the floors. Replacing them would be a real pain.”
“Good idea,” David agreed. “What next?”
“It needs an overhaul of the electrical and plumbing systems. That’s the biggest expense so I need to get started on them. I was thinking I might even go up there in a few months and hang out, watch the work as it’s being done. The whole house could use a good cleaning and I need to decide what can stay and what would be donated.”
Although, in truth, she couldn’t think about getting rid of any of her aunt’s stuff. It had been her home, after all, and all that was left of her. As a child, Taryn had been closer to her aunt than either one of her parents. The idea of one of the greatest, and most interesting, women she’d known being reduced to nothing more than old furniture and pots and pans hurt Taryn’s heart. She was going to hold onto as much as she could.
“Is Matt going with you when you go?”
“Well,” Taryn blushed. “I actually haven’t said anything to him about it yet.”
“Hmmm.”
Matt didn’t understand Taryn’s love for old houses or her desire to hang onto her aunt’s house. He’d never been close to anyone in his family. Taryn was the closest thing he had to family, even though both of his parents were still alive. She also knew he couldn’t take that much time off. It would drive him crazy to be that far away from work for that long again.
“I just think this is something I need to do on my own. For Sarah. For me,” she added.
“I get that,” David said. “You have a spiritual connection with her and with the property. Didn’t you say that when you were a kid you always felt at home there? Like you were meant to be there?”
“Yeah and I also said I always felt like someone was watching me,” she said.
“Maybe your spirit guide lives in the woods around the house,” David suggested.
Taryn laughed and dug into her steaming plate of lamb.
“Hey, you never know. They have to live somewhere.”
Taryn watched David in envy throughout the rest of the meal as he finished his lamb’s meat, a salad, and a plate of baklava. She’d barely managed more than a few bites of hers.
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not looking too well,” David said with concern once their plates were cleared. “You hardly ate enough to keep a fly alive.”
“I haven’t felt well lately. If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?”
“Sure.”
Taryn proceeded to tell him about the motel, what had happened in the room with Aker, the snake, the noises in the living room, and about the feeling of being watched. David listened with full attention and, as she spoke, Taryn watched the concern on his face deepen.
When she was finished, he sat back and studied her. “Taryn, when’s the last time you slept?”
“This will be the fifth night,” she answered softly.
“Jesus! You’re going to kill yourself. You’ve got to get some sleep.”
“You think I’m hallucinating? Matt said that,” she muttered.
“Look,” David said as he reached out and took her hand. “Whether you’re hallucinating or not doesn’t matter. The fact is, you could be making things worse with the lack of sleep. If this is some paranormal thing after you, you’re letting your guard down by not getting rest. You’re lowering your defenses. Maybe that’s what it wants.”
“I’ve tried everything to sleep,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “Everything!”
“Here, let me take you home. No funny business. I’ll sit on the couch, you can to me about this some more, and we’ll try to figure this out. I promise,” he swore.
Taryn nodded and started to stand. When she rose to her feet, however, her legs buckled and she nearly tumbled to the ground, face first, in the restaurant.
“Whoa there,” David said, wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her up. “There you go.”
He helped her through the door but when they got outside he picked her up, like she didn’t weigh a thing, and proceeded to carry her to his car.
“People are going to think you slipped me something and now you’re toting me off to do vile things to me,” she joked weakly.
“Maybe next time, lovely.”
Somehow, she managed to direct him to her apartment.
Eighteen
“I’ll really be fine,” Taryn swore as David plodded up the stairs to her apartment. “I promise.”
“What? And keep me from the chance of carrying a pretty lady up the stairs and playing hero? Why would you take that away from me?”
“Well, here, at least set me down so that I can find my keys,” Taryn muttered, embarrassed. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she swayed. Her legs felt like jello.
“Don’t worry, I got them,” he said as he reached his hand into her tiny backpack and fished them out. “I heard them rattling around earlier.”
Taryn was thankful her apartment was mostly clean. She hadn’t been expecting visitors but at least she didn’t have dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Or, worse, dirty underwear piled up in the bathroom.
David led her to her sofa where she plopped down and stretched her legs out on the cushions. He locked the apartment door then chose the rocking chair next to her. “Nice place,” he remarked, looking around as he took in the room.
“You can nose around if you want,” she said, Taryn closed her eyes, waiting for inevitable ruckus to start. It didn’t. Just like when she had Matt on the phone, the apartment was as quiet and aloof as it ever was.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
She could hear David walking around her living room and dining area, pausing at certain shelves and tables as he took in her belongings. “I like what you did here,” he called from the dining room. “The shadow box with the shoe and dress?”
“I found those in an old house I was, er, exploring awhile back,” she replied. “They were up in an attic. Just gathering dust and rat poop. I brought them, soaked them in vinegar, and then bought that shadow box to put them in.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, well, the house actually burned down a few weeks later so I’m glad I rescued something.”
“The shells?”
She knew he was referring to the
old-fashioned pitcher she had filled with sea shells and pretty stones. “They’re from beaches I’ve visited. There’s some from Jekyll, St. Simon’s, Daytona, St. Petersburg, Kennebunkport in Maine, Salem, and San Diego. I don’t normally buy souvenirs but I like having something to bring back with me.”
“I collect stones myself, and leaves. I press the leaves in a journal I keep,” David offered as he moved on to a bookshelf.
“Have you written anything about me in that journal?”
“Maybe.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s all about you and how I’m pining away for my unrequited love.”
“Oh please,” Taryn snorted, but she laughed just the same.
“You’ve got, uh, quite the collection of books here.”
“You should see my bedroom–and I don’t mean that as a come on. Seriously, I can’t stop with the books. I buy one just about every time I’m out.”
“I hear you on that,” he agreed. “But you’re kind of all over the place. ‘Ethan Frome’ next to Nora Roberts. ‘Gone with the Wind,’ ‘Great Expectations,’ ‘War and Peace’, and V.C. Andrews?”
“I like variety.” Taryn shrugged.
“’Misery,’ Peter Straub’s ‘Ghost Story,’ and,” David paused then laughed, “oh, come on. This can’t be a real book. ‘Pride and Prejudice and Zombies’?”
“It is a real book and it’s very good.” Taryn sniffed. “It’s just like the real one, except every once in awhile a zombie pops out of the woods and they have to attack him.”
“I’ve heard everything now,” he murmured, walking back to where she was sitting. “Move your feet over.”
Taryn obliged and he sat down next to her, just inches away. She was aware of his presence, would have been aware even if her eyes had been closed. David emitted an energy that was strong and powerful. There was almost something otherworldly about it. Taryn was drawn to him in a way that made her increasingly uncomfortable, especially considering Matt was in the picture, and yet she was as relaxed around David as if she’d known him her entire life.
“Tell me some more about this motel you’re working at,” David prodded, patting her on the foot. “Anything going on there you want to talk about?”
“Well, it turns out that Ruby hired me to see ghosts,” Taryn replied, closing her eyes again. “That’s a first.”
“She wants you to find her dead partner?” he asked with sympathy.
“You figured that out?”
“It made sense. Never underestimate sentimentality and what it can do to a rational mind,” David reasoned.
“She’s had physics and ghost hunters out there but I reckon they didn’t give her the answers she wanted,” Taryn explained.
“I don’t trust many of those myself. The people who walk around with their little EVP machines and blinking lights, listening to the ‘voices’ coming through the static and asking their questions… And the ones who take pictures and see ‘orbs’ in everything? I worry.” David shook his head, his coal black hair catching the soft glow of light from the lamp and glistening in the shadowy room.
“Hey, a lot of those are real!” Taryn exclaimed, feeling defensive. Since discovering Miss Dixie’s talents she’d spent a lot of time perusing paranormal websites and forums, learning about different ways of contacting the spirit world and the various degrees of communicating with the dead.
“Some of them are,” David agreed, “but you really have to question those who don’t have a healthy sense of cynicism and skepticism.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you’re looking for something, and 100% sure it exists, then you’re almost always going to find it–whether you’ve actually found it or not. You’ll see what you’re looking for in most anything. I went to high school with girls like that. They were convinced there was a soulmate for everyone, even though that’s statistically possible. In order for everyone to have a soulmate, we’d have to have an equal number of people in the world and they’d have to match up fairly well by age. But I digress,” he laughed, showing off his fine set of snowy white teeth.
David got up and walked into Taryn’s kitchen where he found apple juice in her refrigerator. As he poured himself a glass, he raised his voice so that she could still hear him. “They believed in love and soulmates so much that they were always falling in love, always convinced that this new person was their soul mate. If they’d just stopped for a moment and looked at their situation, it would’ve been painfully clear to them that even if such a thing did exist, it wasn’t the person they were with. Logically, what were the odds of that one girl’s spiritual soulmate actually being in their hometown, in their class, at their school, etc.?”
Taryn laughed, in spite of herself. “Okay, I get your point. I went to school with those girls, too. But does that really apply to ghosts?”
“Sure it does. You believe in ghosts, you believe in orbs. You believe that orbs can show up in pictures. You take a picture, there’s a ball of light in it, and–bam!” He clapped his hands together. “There’s your orb!”
“Maybe it was an orb,” Taryn suggested.
“Maybe it was. Or maybe it was dust, a reflection of the light, or any number of things. I’m a scientist. I believe in a healthy dose of skepticism.”
“So what about EVPs?”
“What about them?”
“Do you think they’re real?”
David pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. “Do I believe that the dead can communicate with us? Unquestionable. I’m sure it’s difficult for them, but I think it can be done. For those who whip out those little tape recording gadgets and ask all those questions, though, that’s another story.”
“I’ve seen people on investigations, though, and it does look and sound like the spirits are answering them back when they talk,” Taryn protested.
“Those things can also pick up interference,” David rationalized.
Taryn scoffed, a little put out by his logic. She got enough of that from Matt.
“Look,” David began again, this time with a gentleness in his voice. “If you turn one of them on and leave it running, you’re going to hear sounds. That’s inevitable. You’ll hear pops and cracks and moans and you might even hear voices that are carried through white noise. The human ear is incredibly adept at picking up patterns in sound–it’s one of the main reasons we’re able to speak and carry on conversations in the first place. It’s why some people are so proficient at learning new languages–they’re not especially good at remembering the words and learning the nuances of the language itself, they’re just skilled at recognizing and learning the patterns.”
Taryn listened, forgetting that she was originally miffed and now fascinated with what he was saying.
David, now that he was warmed up to the topic, grew more animated. Taryn watched in fascination as his eyes lit up and his body straightened. He began using his hands to describe what he was saying and to make his points. “Turn it on and ask it a question. You’ll get a ‘response.’ Turn it on and don’t ask it a question. You’ll still get something in reply, the same thing you probably would’ve gotten if you had asked it something. It might come immediately or it may come thirty seconds later. Whenever it comes, we put meaning on the response. Ever noticed how what it’s saying doesn’t always sound like what the guy doing the investigation says it’s saying?”
Taryn nodded. She had noticed that. She had gone on a paranormal investigation with a ghost hunter once and he’d insisted the ghost was calling him out by name. His name was “Stewart.” To Taryn, the “ghost” sounded like it was saying “windmill.” Stewart had been so proud by the development and his communication skills, however, that Taryn had simply gone along with him when he’d asked if she’d heard it. She certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell him the truth.
“You’re on an investigation of an old railroad–the site of a crash one hundred years ago. The guy asks the spirit when it died, the ‘spirit’ responds with something that soun
ds like gibberish to you, and the guy gets excited and says, ‘See! He says he died in 1889! That’s the year of the railroad crash. He must have been on the train!’”
The tips of Taryn’s ears warmed and turned bright red. Now she felt silly. She wasn’t going to call it a “win” for David just yet, though.
“But you do believe in the paranormal,” Taryn insisted. “I know you do. And you’ve seen my pictures and stuff. Do you think I am looking for things that aren’t there?”
“No, sweetie,” David replied, shaking his head and squeezing her foot. He left his hand there, the passionate heat from his fingers seeping through her sock to warm her toes. “I know you’re the real deal. Ruby Jane can probably sense that, too. That’s probably why she sought you out in the first place. That’s why she trusted you enough to tell you the truth.”
“Then why doubt what others have seen and heard? Is it because you don’t know them?”
“I don’t always ‘doubt’. I question. My job is to investigate, and I do. That’s all. I don’t jump to conclusions right away; I look at the varying answers and then investigate until I can make an informed decision. I know there are lots of things out there I can’t explain and sometimes the supernatural is the answer. But I also understand that it’s not the only answer.”
“The thing you said about girls in high school, and how it’s crazy to think their soul mate ended up in their school, in their town and all?”
Taryn was embarrassed to even bring it up but David had, after all, started it.
“Yes?”
“I went to school with Matt. We met in elementary school. And he’s my soul mate,” she blurted out, feeling silly and childish.
“Of course he is,” David said soothingly as he reached over and brushed a lock of her hair out of her face. “There are also different degrees of soul mates too, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just because he’s your soul mate doesn’t mean you’re meant to have a romantic relationship. Or meant to be together forever. Sometimes it just means that you’re meant to find each other, that you travel through lives together. Just because you’re meant to be together in eternity doesn’t mean you’re meant to be together in this life, on this earth.”
Black Raven Inn: A Paranormal Mystery (Taryn's Camera Book 6) Page 13
