Ghost Who Came for Christmas

by McIntyre, Anna J

  “I’m sure she’ll be okay.” Anna flashed Patricia a smile.

  “I don’t want to impose on anyone,” Patricia said. “Jessica, now.”

  Reluctantly, Jessica got up from the floor and went to her mother.

  Chris set the magazine on his lap and looked over at Patricia. “I hope you feel better.”

  “I’m sure I will. The last few days have just been—well, a little overwhelming.”

  After Patricia and Jessica left the living room, Anna looked over to Chris. “I think I may have scared her off.”

  In response, Chris coughed into his fist. Anna’s gaze moved around the room before she slumped back into the chair and closed her eyes.

  Lily was just stepping out of the kitchen when she ran into Patricia and Jessica again. This time, Jessica was pleading with her mother to let her stay downstairs. She didn’t want to go upstairs while her mother took a nap.

  “Jessica, why don’t you sit on the stairs for a moment. I’d like to speak to your mother for a second,” Lily suggested.

  Jessica looked to her mother, who gave a nod. With a heavy sigh, Jessica plunked down on a step. Propping her elbow on a knee, she rested her chin on a balled fist.

  “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your daughter,” Lily began. “But I’d be more than happy to keep an eye on her while you take a nap.”

  Patricia glanced down the hallway toward the living room. “Anna made that offer…but well…”

  “You really don’t know Anna, right?”

  Patricia nodded.

  “I know you don’t know me either, but I really was a second grade teacher—and I guess you could say I’m part of the staff here.” Lily smiled.

  “Can I ask you something?” Patricia asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you quit teaching?”

  “I was in an accident a few months ago, and had to give up my class—at least for this year.”

  “I really don’t want to impose.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’d be happy to keep an eye on her while you’re upstairs. And anyway, there are a batch of cookies that need decorating and I was thinking of putting Jessica to work on them.”

  After Patricia went to her room, Lily took Jessica into the kitchen to decorate Christmas cookies. When Richard found Lily and Jessica at the kitchen table thirty minutes later, the two females were busy decorating cookies, yet judging by the evidence smeared on the young girl’s face, not all of the frosting was staying on the cookie.

  “Looks like you two are having fun,” Richard greeted as he walked to the table.

  “I just hope Jessica doesn’t get sick from all the frosting she’s sneaking, or her mother might kill me.” Lily laughed. In one hand she held a star shaped sugar cookie and in the other a dull knife dripping with frosting.

  Jessica, who sat across the table from her, spread white frosting over a cookie. She looked up at Richard and smiled. When her gaze met his he froze a moment, unable to look away. Lily noticed Richard’s sudden change of demeanor. “Is something wrong?”

  Richard shook his head and glanced away from Jessica. “It was just something about her smile—her eyes. It reminded me of someone.”

  “Who?” Lily set the cookie down on a plate.

  Richard shook his head again and sat down at the table. He grabbed a cookie and instead of decorating it, he took a bite.

  “Hey! You aren’t supposed to eat them!” Jessica protested.

  Lily laughed. “It’s okay, that’s what they’re for.”

  “That’s not what you told me,” Jessica said with a pout.

  “I told you that after you gobbled up two cookies,” Lily reminded.

  Jessica giggled and resumed her cookie decorating.

  “So, who does she remind you of?” Lily asked again.

  Richard shrugged. “Just someone I used to know. It’s not important.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Lily asked.

  “Sure, what?”

  “Why aren’t you spending Christmas with your family?”

  Richard stood up. “Do you mind if I pour myself a glass of milk?”

  “Help yourself. The glasses are up there.” Lily pointed to one of the overhead cabinets.

  “I don’t have any family,” Richard explained as he poured himself a glass of milk.

  “No one?”

  “My parents were killed in a boating accident about three years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry. No brothers or sisters?”

  Richard shook his head. “It’s just me. Like Danielle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s alone too. You mentioned last night her husband was killed last year, and she said something about losing her parents when she was in college.”

  “I suppose that’s one reason Danielle wanted to stay open for the holidays—having people around to spend Christmas with, instead of being alone.”

  “Christmas was never a big deal for me.” Richard shrugged.

  “Christmas was always a pretty big deal in my family. I don’t think my mother was thrilled I decided not to come home for Christmas.” Lily sighed.

  “We don’t have a home anymore,” Jessica told them as she doused gold sprinkles over a frosted cookie.

  “What do you mean?” Lily asked.

  Jessica looked up from the cookie. “We don’t have a home anymore. At least I don’t think we do.”

  “I thought you and your mom lived in Arizona,” Lily said.

  Jessica shrugged. “Before we left we had to put everything in our car. Mom said after Christmas we’d find someplace new to live.”

  “Where is your car?” Richard asked.

  “At the airport. Back where we used to live.” Jessica set her now decorated cookie on the platter and grabbed another one to frost.

  “Did you live in a house?” Richard asked.

  Jessica shook her head. “Mom called it an apartment. We moved in there after Daddy died. I don’t care about moving. I didn’t like it anyway. Mr. Beaumont’s kids were mean.”

  “Who is Mr. Beaumont?” Lily asked.

  “He’s the one who told Mommy we couldn’t live there anymore.”

  “Did you live with Mr. Beaumont and his kids?” Richard asked. Lily felt compelled to change the direction of the conversation, yet Jessica answered before she could say anything.

  “No. They lived in an apartment downstairs with Mrs. Beaumont.”

  “He was your landlord?” Richard asked.

  Jessica shrugged.

  Richard stared at Jessica. “What about all your furniture?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think we could take it because it wasn’t ours. Mom used to tell me I had to be careful with the furniture, or we’d lose our deposit.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Richard said, sounding slightly annoyed. “You moved out of your apartment, stored all of your belongings in your car, and then went on vacation?”

  “This really is none of our business,” Lily said under her breath.

  Chapter Twelve

  Patricia was back downstairs within the hour. Jessica had finished decorating cookies and was once again looking under the Christmas tree, trying to coax Max from his napping spot under the branches. The moment Patricia walked into the living room, Chris tossed the magazine to the coffee table and stood up.

  Standing akimbo, Chris glanced around the room. “Who wants to join me for a walk along the beach?” he asked.

  Patricia frowned. “Isn’t it cold?”

  “Nothing a jacket can’t cure.” Chris grinned. “Certainly, you didn’t come all this way to stay inside the entire time? I understand Frederickport has some beautiful beaches.”

  Richard glanced at his watch. “Where’s Danielle?”

  Lily, who sat in a chair next to Anna, glanced up from the book she was reading. “She hasn’t come back yet.”

  “Then, I suppose I’ll join you. Let me go grab my coat.” Richard started for the door. />
  Chris looked at Patricia. “What about you and Jessica? A little fresh air will do you both some good.”

  “Oh, can we Mom?” Jessica jumped up from the floor.

  “Fine. But go run up to our room. Grab our jackets. And your gloves and hat. I put them in the top dresser drawer.”

  “I don’t need a hat,” Jessica protested.

  “If you want to go for a walk on the beach you do.” Patricia pointed to the door.

  With a sigh, Jessica raced from the room and headed upstairs.

  “I think I’ll go too.” Anna looked over at Lily. “Are you coming with us, Lily?”

  Lily shook her head. “No, I told Danielle I’d stay here until she comes back. Go, have fun. Come back with a good appetite, Danielle has a delicious dinner planned.”

  Chris and Anna trailed behind Richard and Patricia, as they strolled down the boardwalk, heading toward the pier. Jessica ran ahead of the adults, periodically stopping and looking back, careful to not get too far ahead. It was decided they’d stay on the boardwalk when Richard realized sand would get in his shoes, and Patricia decided it was too cold for Jessica to remove her sneakers and walk on the beach.

  “He’s not with us,” Chris whispered to Anna.

  Anna glanced behind her and then looked at Chris. “I assume you’re referring to Walt Marlow’s ghost?”

  Chris nodded. “He’s been hanging out in the living room all afternoon, watching and listening.”

  “What is he, some type of ghost spy?” Anna asked under her breath.

  “He suspects there’s something going on between you and me.”

  Anna scowled. “Why? We haven’t really said anything around him.”

  “I think he picked up on something, the way we look at each other, maybe.”

  “Nosey little spirit. He needs to mind his own business.”

  “Fortunately for me, he has a habit of thinking out loud, so it’s easier to get a handle on him. Doesn’t seem particularly threatening. I don’t think he has any powers.”

  Still walking alongside Chris, trailing far enough behind Richard and Patricia that they couldn’t hear her conversation, she asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “For one thing, when I insulted him, he didn’t retaliate.”

  “What do you mean insulted him?”

  “I said something about him being nerdy.”

  Anna laughed. “You do realize the term nerdy was not in use when Walt Marlow was alive? If he’s been confined to Marlow House since his death, which I suspect he has, I doubt he knows what that even means.”

  “Perhaps. But I also called him effeminate.” Chris grinned.

  “Do you think it’s wise to provoke him?”

  Chris shrugged. “I have to have some fun.”

  “No, you have to focus on what you came here to do,” Anna reminded.

  “And you, Anna, are entirely too bossy.”

  “I thought you said I was a nag?”

  “That too. Which is why I’m here. Anything to get you out of my life.”

  Richard buried his hands deep in his jacket’s pockets, seeking warmth. He walked alongside Patricia as they headed toward the pier. He watched Jessica, who skipped ahead of them, zigzagging her way down the boardwalk, periodically stopping to investigate some treasure in the nearby sand—such as a feather, rock, or shell.

  “Your daughter, she reminds me of someone,” Richard told Patricia, his gaze fastened on the young girl.

  “Oh really?” Patricia glanced at Richard for a moment and then looked at her daughter.

  “It’s driving me crazy.”

  Patricia frowned. “Why is that?”

  “I just can’t put my finger on it. Have you ever done that before? Seen someone who reminds you of someone else but can’t remember who?”

  Patricia shrugged. “I suppose. Occasionally, I see someone on television who looks familiar but can’t place him.”

  “It’s not just the way she looks—it’s a feeling.”

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “I can’t explain.” Richard shook his head. “It’ll come to me.”

  They walked in silence for a few more minutes when Richard said, “Jessica told me you moved out of your apartment before you came up here.”

  Patricia frowned. “She told you that? When?”

  “For the record, I didn’t initiate the conversation. You can ask Lily. When they were decorating cookies earlier, she blurted out you two didn’t have a home anymore. Said something about packing up everything and storing it in your car.”

  Patricia sighed. “She said that?”

  “It isn’t true?”

  “Unfortunately, it is. I lost my job in November. I had hoped I would have found something by now.” Patricia pulled the front of her jacket together and zipped it up.

  “Don’t stores usually do a lot of hiring for the holidays?”

  “Yes, they do. But I didn’t have anyone to watch Jessica, and if I paid a sitter, I would end up spending about as much as I made. At least with my old job at the preschool, I had school holidays off to be with Jessica.”

  “I know it’s none of my business, but why did you come up here for Christmas? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to spend your money finding a permanent home, instead of going on vacation?”

  Patricia chuckled. “Yeah, well, you have a point. But you see, coming up to Oregon to spend Christmas wasn’t really my idea.”

  Richard frowned. “I don’t understand?”

  “I won this Christmas holiday—for Jessica and myself. So, I figured, what the heck? I needed someplace to stay for Christmas, and I couldn’t afford to even buy a tree this year, so here I am. The prize included round trip airline tickets, a rental car, a little cash to cover expenses and the gift tax, and supposedly there will be some gifts delivered for Jessica on Christmas. When I go home after New Year’s, I’ll have to find a new place for Jessica and myself.”

  “I didn’t realize Marlow House had given away a holiday vacation.”

  Patricia shook her head. “I don’t think they did. Danielle claims she knew nothing about it. And when I asked her about the charity sponsoring the prize, she said she had never heard of them before. But she did say someone had paid for our room at Marlow House—through New Year’s.”

  After a moment of silence, Richard said, “I’m sorry about your job.”

  “Thanks. But we’ll get by. Although, I have to admit, since my husband was killed, it’s been pretty overwhelming, being the person solely responsible for my daughter’s wellbeing.”

  “Don’t you have any family?”

  “No. I wasn’t much older than Jessica when I lost my mother. She was pretty much it.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died a few years before Mom. I suppose one of my greatest fears is history repeating itself.”

  “How so?”

  “After my father was killed, there was only Mom. When she died—well, there was no family to take me in.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went into the foster care system. I was too old to be adopted—although, if I’m honest, part of that was my fault.”

  “How in the world could it be your fault? You just said you weren’t much older than Jessica. You were just a child.”

  Patricia laughed bitterly. “Oh, I had some major issues. I did not want to be adopted. I had other things on my mind.”

  “Other things?”

  Patricia smiled ruefully. Staring ahead at her daughter, who continued to run and skip her way to the pier, Patricia wiped the corners of her eyes, preventing any unshed tears from escaping. “That’s all in the past.”

  Forcing a smile, she looked at Richard and said, “So tell me about your family. Why did you come to Marlow House for Christmas?”

  “My parents died a few years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  Richard shook his head. “There was only room for on
e child in my parent’s life.”

  “Does this mean you were spoiled?” Patricia grinned.

  “I suppose I was. Never wanted for anything.”

  “It must be hard on you, with them gone now and having to spend Christmas with strangers.”

  “My family wasn’t big on Christmas. Oh, we celebrated it, but it was never about family.”

  “Christmas was a big thing when I was growing up. Even after my father died. That was one of the many things I missed when I went into foster care. Christmases with my family. Which is why, when I got married and had Jessica, I tried so hard to make Christmas special, like it was when Mom was still alive.”

  “And now you have to spend it with strangers. I’m sorry.”

  Patricia shrugged. “I’m grateful we aren’t spending it in our car—seriously. And Marlow House is beautiful. I love the way Danielle has it decorated. So far, Jessica hasn’t complained about not having her own tree. She seems fine with sharing the one at Marlow House.”

  “I think she also enjoyed decorating those cookies today.” Richard laughed.

  Anna nodded toward Richard and Patricia. “Those two seem to be getting along.”

  “I noticed that. Richard was in the kitchen when Jessica was decorating cookies with Lily.”

  “I think Patricia looks older than her years,” Anna whispered. “That troubles me.”

  “She’s had a rough couple of years,” Chris reminded.

  “She’s had a rough life.”

  “Maybe. But it looks like she turned out all right. She seems like a good mother. Jessica appears to be happy and loved. A well-behaved kid.”

  “What do you think about Richard?” Anna asked.

  “He’s not particularly talkative. I tried to get him into a conversation earlier, but he didn’t say much.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be having a problem talking with Patricia.”

  “No, no he doesn’t. Maybe he just prefers women.”

  Anna laughed. “Or perhaps you’re better at getting women to talk to you than men.”

  Chris grinned. “That’s a possibility.”

  “Speaking of women…”

  “Were we speaking of women?” Chris asked.

  “What do you think about Danielle Boatman?”