by J A Whiting
Something about the conversation with the caretaker still picked at Lin despite Viv’s rational explanations.
Viv asked, “What about that valentine? Are you sensing anything from it? Has it started to burn your skin again when you touch it?”
“No, it’s normal now. It’s like a normal decorative piece that anyone might have on display in their house. I might have been reading too much into it.”
Viv looked skeptical. “It wasn’t burning you? You made that all up?”
Lin said, “When it was in the store, it felt like it was too hot to hold, but I could have been letting my mind run away with crazy ideas. I could have been picking up slight things about its origin and its prior owners and maybe I got too excited and exaggerated what I was feeling.”
Viv crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you ever done that before? Exaggerated a feeling you were having?”
“I … I … well, I might have.”
“Can you come up with a specific example of a time you exaggerated a sensation?”
Lin thought for a few moments. “I can’t think of one right off the bat.”
“Neither can I, so I don’t think you were exaggerating yesterday. You were feeling what you were feeling.”
“Whatever I was picking up on has gone dim,” Lin said. “The valentine seems normal.”
“For now….” Viv warned. “Keep your eye on that thing. I don’t think it’s over. I think its resting … or something.”
A smile crept over Lin’s mouth. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
“Don’t smile at me like that,” Viv scolded. “Once you start picking up on something, it never dissolves or evaporates or dissipates. No. This is only the beginning.”
The smile on Lin’s face disappeared. Her cousin was right. No matter how much she wanted to believe the valentine had settled because she’d purchased it, she knew, deep down, it wanted something from her.
Viv said with a sigh, “Time will tell what we’re about to get dragged into.”
Lin’s face clouded with concern. “If you’ve had enough of ghosts and crimes and cases, I’ll understand if you don’t want to deal with any more of that stuff.”
A longer line had formed at the café counter and Viv nodded to Mallory who was working alone preparing the coffee drinks and serving the desserts. Viv turned her gaze on her cousin. “If you think I’d let you have all the fun with the ghosts, you are sorely mistaken.” Standing up to go help at the coffee bar, she said, “We need to plan our birthday party. We’ll only turn thirty once so we better come up with something fun.” Viv stood still and looked across the room at nothing. “Thirty. Yikes. Time sure does fly. We’ll be old hags before we know it.”
Lin smiled. “Hopefully, we have a few good years left before we become old hags.”
“Are you sure it hasn’t happened already?” a man’s voice said. Anton Wilson, author, professor of history, and expert on all things Nantucket swept over to Lin’s table and took the seat that Viv had been sitting in. In his sixties, quick and spry, Anton looked over his black-rimmed glasses with a smile on his face, pleased with his teasing of the young women.
“Are you calling us hags?” Viv asked with a hand on her hip.
“I only asked if you might have become such a thing already. You were the one who said that word, not me.”
“I’ll instruct everyone at the coffee bar not to wait on you.” Viv left to go work behind the counter.
“Is she angry with me?” Anton leaned forward, worry etched over his brow.
“No, she’s playing with you,” Lin assured the man. “Don’t worry, Viv can take a joke.”
“That’s a relief.” Anton pulled a tattered book, some papers, a notebook, and his laptop from his briefcase. Without looking over at Lin, he said, “What’s new with you?”
Anton was one of the few people who knew about Lin’s “skill.” She told him about the valentine.
Anton listened quietly and blinked at Lin before responding. He cleared his throat and said evenly, “That’s very interesting.”
Lin asked, “Do you have any theories about why I felt the heat coming off the valentine?”
“The piece was most likely created in the Caribbean. Perhaps you were sensing the hot days of the island’s weather.” Anton tapped the end of a pencil against his chin. “But that seems too simple. Maybe Libby and I should come by and take a look at it.”
Libby Hartnett was an older woman who’d lived all of her life on the island and was a very distant relative of Lin’s. Libby had special powers, too, and she’d helped Lin better understand and come to terms with her ability to see and interact with ghosts.
“I haven’t seen Libby lately. Is she off-island?” Lin asked.
“She’ll be back in a couple of days. I’ll call you when we can come by.”
Lin nodded and told Anton about her conversation with the caretaker who was working next door to Neil’s house.
“I think Viv is probably right about the man. He’s probably familiar with your landscaping company and knows a few things about you via the grapevine.” Anton began clicking on the keys of his laptop.
Lin sipped the last of her tea and ate the final section of her corn muffin. She glanced over to see the dog and cat snoozing away in the chair and it made her fully aware of the fatigue she was feeling. Unable to stifle a yawn, Lin wanted nothing more than to head home, shower, and take a nap on her comfy sofa before making a late dinner and then doing some programming work for the Cambridge company she worked for remotely on a part-time basis. Lin liked having the extra work so that when her landscaping jobs dried up in the winter she could supplement her income. She’d planned to see Viv and John play at the pub later that night, but she had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day and decided that staying in and hitting the sack early would be the wisest thing to do.
Lin also had the urge to go home to have another look at the valentine so she said goodbye to Anton, waved to Viv, roused the dog from his slumber, and headed out of the bookstore and up Main Street towards her cottage … with a very strong sense of unease pulling at her.
5
Lin stood in the kitchen, her eyes traveling over every miniature shell and pattern line of the sailor’s valentine. The soft, muted colors and the intricate details combined to create an incredible piece of artwork. Reaching out her hand, she picked up the valentine and carried it into the living room where she sank into the sofa’s cushions. Nicky jumped up beside his owner, turned twice in a circle, and then settled against Lin’s leg for a nap.
Lin leaned forward and brought the wooden box closer to her face so she could better see the shells. After a few minutes of inspection, she rested the valentine on her lap, ran her hand over the glass cover, and wondered about the person who made it, the person who bought it and carried it all the way to Nantucket, and about the fortunate person who received it as a gift.
In the 1800s, the majority of valentine buyers were sailors, men who had been away from home traveling on a ship often for at least a year’s time. Far from their loved ones and the places they knew, the sailors made the unique purchase for that special someone who waited for their safe return.
Lin’s eyelids became heavy and, try as she might, she couldn’t keep them from slipping shut and as she dozed off, her head lolled back against the soft sofa.
Images flitted in her brain while she slept … a ship heaving and falling on huge waves in a driving rainstorm, several men sitting on the deck under the stars sharing a smoke by passing around a single pipe of tobacco, the amazing blue of the Caribbean sea, the impossible green lushness of the island of Barbados, a sailor standing alone on a ship’s deck with a single tear tracing down his cheek while staring at a small, crumpled-around-the-edges note of love from a shy, dark-haired young woman.
A loud clunk made Lin’s eyes snap open and, at the same time, the dog startled, scrambled to his feet, and let out a woof. In the darkening room, Lin’s and Nicky�
�s heads spun from side to side looking for the source of the noise. With her heart pounding in her ears, Lin tried to figure out what had caused the sound. She slid to the edge of the sofa cushion and reached down to pat the dog. “Maybe a bird flew into the window?”
Nicky turned his head to look up at her as if to check whether or not he could relax or should stay on guard.
Lin stood and walked around the rooms with the dog padding after her, and not finding anything out of order, she wondered if she’d dreamt the noise and by jumping to consciousness, scared the dog. “Did you hear something, Nick, or did I startle you when I woke up so fast?”
The dog let out a whine causing Lin to smile. “Not sure, huh?” She ran her hand through her dark hair. “I don’t see anything wrong or broken so it was either a noise from outside or I dreamt it.”
Heading to the kitchen, she said, “Let’s get our dinner. It’s dark already. I need to do some programming work before I can crawl into bed.” Lin would have loved to eat a bowl of cereal for dinner and then carry a cup of tea to her bedroom, slide under the covers, and work on crossword puzzles for an hour before turning out the light.
She fed the dog, made some spaghetti and a green salad, and defrosted a vegetable sauce that she ladled over the angel-hair pasta before sprinkling the dish with grated cheese. After eating and cleaning up, Lin headed for the spare bedroom that she used as an office, and within two hours, had completed the programming tasks that needed to be finished. With a yawn, she rubbed at her neck trying to loosen up the kinks that had gathered there and then answered some texts from Jeff and Leonard.
It was too late for puzzle books, so Lin shut off the kitchen lights and started for her bedroom. A shaft of moonlight came in through the window and lit up the valentine on the hutch like a spotlight was shining on it. Lin stopped and admired how lovely the shellwork looked in the light of the moon, and on impulse, lifted the wooden octagonal box and carried it into her room where she set it on her dresser.
Although the box of shells had stopped giving off heat, Lin felt such a strong pull from the creation that it almost made her uneasy. She tried to shake off the feeling by attempting to convince herself it was only because the artwork was so beautiful that she couldn’t help staring at it.
Lin forced her eyes away from the box, climbed into bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and shortly after her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.
Clunk.
Lin woke with a start, but stayed perfectly still, listening. From the floor at the foot of her bed, the dog let out a low, heavy growl that rumbled in his throat. Lin wanted to shush him, but she kept silent. What was that noise? Clunk. The sound came from outside.
Lin slid out of bed and shuffled across the wood floor to the window where she pushed back the blinds an inch to peek out. Her forehead crinkled at what she saw.
Going to the front door and opening it a crack, she called to the man in the road. “Do you need help?”
Nicky stuck his head through the slight open door to get a look out front.
Under the streetlamp, a huge horse, almost as big as a Clydesdale, stood next to a man in his twenties who was wearing wool slacks, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a tweed cap. In his hand, he held a lead-line that was attached to the horse’s halter.
“We’re fine. Sorry to bother.” The man touched his cap and lifted it a little as he nodded to Lin with a smile. “My horse’s shoe is loose. My friend down the road,” the man gestured, “knows something about blacksmithing, but he didn’t have the right tools to fix it. We’re heading home now. Sorry if we woke you.”
“It’s okay.” Lin watched the man lead the horse forward, the huge animal making a clunking sound each time his right, rear foot hit the road. “Do you have far to go?”
“Not at all. A couple of miles. We’ll be fine.” He tipped his hat again, and whistling a tune, kept on up the road until Lin couldn’t see them anymore.
Nicky and Lin exchanged glances.
Lin said, “Well, you don’t see that outside your door every day, do you?” When she shut and locked the door, a cold shaft of air surrounded her and the dog whined and focused his attention into the living room.
Afraid to turn around, Lin hesitated, took in a long breath, and swiveled on her feet to look in the direction that Nicky was facing.
The room was empty.
Taking a few steps forward, Lin spoke softly, “Is anyone there?”
Sliding her feet to bring her closer to the wall, she reached over and flicked the light switch to illuminate the living room. The sudden brightness made her eyes clamp shut for a few seconds. When she opened her lids, a quick movement of something flashed from the room into the kitchen leaving behind a wave of cold air that blew in Lin’s direction. She darted for the kitchen and stopped short, her heart in her throat.
An old man stood near the far wall next to the window in the shaft of moonlight.
A ghost.
His thin hair was gray and his eyes looked watery and tired. He wore brown slacks and a brown overcoat and he held a hat in his hands. His shoulders were stooped.
In her thin sleep shorts and pajama tank top, Lin was almost shaking from the freezing air in the room. She wrapped her arms around herself. Nicky stood quietly at attention next to Lin’s leg.
“Hello.” Lin’s voice was practically a whisper.
The old man made eye contact with her, but he didn’t speak. They never did.
“Do you need help?” Lin asked.
The ghost just stared at her.
Lin asked softly, “Were you a sailor once?”
The man’s shoulders hunched even more.
“Is the valentine yours?” Lin took one step forward.
The man blinked.
“I don’t know how to help.” Lin kept her eyes on the man. “I’m not sure what to do.”
The old man gave such a slight nod it would have been easy to miss.
Lin touched her horseshoe necklace. “Did you give the valentine to someone on Nantucket? Did you give it to someone you loved?”
A single glistening tear spilled from the man’s eye.
Lin’s heart clenched at the sight. “I want to help,” she said gently. “I want to figure out what you need.”
The ghost’s form began to shimmer and it slowly became more and more translucent. He was about to disappear.
Lin moved a step closer. “Don’t go. Can you stay a little longer?”
The man blinked several times. His body had become so see-through that Lin knew he’d be gone in a moment.
The sadness pouring from the man made Lin’s stomach tighten. “I’ll figure it out. I won’t give up,” she told the ghost.
In a few seconds, Lin and her dog were alone in the room, the cold sucked out and away.
“I promise,” Lin whispered to the empty space.
Her hand went to the side of her face and the urge to cry crashed over her. With a heart heavy and sorrowful, Lin looked down at her sweet dog. “Come on, Nick. Let’s go back to bed.”
Blinking back tears, she flicked off the kitchen light, turned, and saw something on the hutch.
The sailor’s valentine was back on the shelf, the moonlight lighting it up in the darkness.
6
Lin and Jeff stood by the grill adding hamburgers and veggie burgers to the already cooking baked potatoes and corn on the cob. Viv placed a pasta salad and a jug of homemade sangria on the deck table and then set out the plates and silverware.
Lin had just finished telling them about the first odd thing that happened the previous night. “A horse. Right outside on the street.”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream that?” Lighting the jar candles on the table, Viv looked at her cousin with skepticism.
“I’m sure. Nicky saw it, too.” Lin glanced down at the dog resting on the patio lounge chair with Queenie. “Right, Nick?”
The dog put his nose in the air and barked in agreement.
&nb
sp; “See?” Lin asked.
“If the dog says it’s so, then I believe it,” Jeff kidded.
Lin looked at Viv. “You don’t believe I saw a horse in the street, but I bet you’ll believe what I tell you happened next.”
With a wary expression, Viv narrowed her eyes. “What happened next? The horse came in for tea?”
Lin ignored the comment. “A ghost paid a visit.”
Jeff and Viv stared at Lin.
“What happened?” Viv asked cautiously.
Lin told them about her late night visitor. “He made me feel so sad. He broke my heart and I don’t know over what. I told him I’d figure out what he needed.” She bit her lower lip. “What if I can’t do it?”
Jeff went to Lin’s side and wrapped his arm over her shoulders. “You’ve been able to help the ghosts in the past. You’ll be able to do it this time, too.”
“I shouldn’t have promised him.” Lin pushed a stray strand of her hair from her eyes. “The day might come when I can’t help. I don’t want to disappoint him. He needs something. I have to figure it out.”
Viv moved closer with an encouraging smile. “One step at a time. That’s how you always do it.” She nodded at Jeff. “And we’re here … and Libby and Anton, too … we’ll all help. Even though we can’t see the spirits, we can offer moral support and you can bounce ideas off of us.”
A grin crept over Lin’s mouth. “I’m grateful for your help, and you’re right, one step at a time.” Even though she truly appreciated her cousin’s kind support, she always felt helpless and overwhelmed when a new ghost came to her, afraid she wouldn’t be able to accomplish what they needed. She pushed down her worry and apprehension so that she could enjoy the evening with her friends. “Should we put the food in the oven to keep it warm?” Lin asked. “What time do you think John will get here?”
Viv’s boyfriend had met a client to show a house and was running late. As if on cue, John came around the side of the house carrying a side dish of mozzarella squares topped with slices of fresh tomatoes drizzled with seasoned olive oil. “I had to stop by the boat to change and pick up the cheese and tomatoes. Everything smells great. I’m starving.” John placed the platter on the table, poured himself a glass of sangria, and sat at the deck table. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been going all day. I’ve shown a million houses to this client, but nothing is right.” He mimicked the man. “Too many rooms, too few rooms, the layout is boring, the deck is on the wrong side of the house, there’s too little landscaping, the landscaping is too complex.” He blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do to please this guy. He wants everything to be to his liking. Most people buy and then make some alterations to suit them. Maybe this guy should build.”
