The Ghost and the Bride

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “I wonder why that man is crying,” Evan asked.

  Joe glanced in the direction of Evan’s gaze. “What man?”

  “That man standing with Danielle. He sure seems upset,” Evan explained.

  Joe and Brian looked to Danielle and Chris, and then back to Evan.

  “Chris isn’t crying,” Joe said.

  Evan shook his head and pointed to Danielle. “No. The man standing between Danielle and Chris.”

  “What are you talking about, Evan?” Joe asked with a frown. “There’s no one standing between Danielle and Chris.”

  Evan started to argue with Joe and then paused. He glanced warily from Joe to Brian. The two officers stared at him. He looked back to Danielle and Chris. The crying man was still there, standing between the pair.

  Taking a bite of the sandwich, Evan began to chew, his eyes now diverted, looking away from his father’s officers, and away from Danielle and Chris.

  “I guess you’re right,” Evan mumbled with a full mouth.

  Joe and Brian exchanged glances and then looked back to Evan, but resisted further comment.

  “I didn’t realize I could still cry,” Kent said, wiping his face. He looked at his fingertips. There were no tears.

  “You can cry, but your tears obviously dissolve like Walt’s cigar smoke,” Chris noted.

  “It’s just all this…Bringing back memories of Pamela’s and my wedding. We had so many dreams.” No longer crying, Kent gazed across the yard to where Pamela sat with the impostor Kent.

  MacDonald returned to the table with his plate of food and his eldest son, Eddy. As he sat down, he noticed the odd way both Joe and Brian studied Evan, while Evan seemed unnaturally quiet as he finished up the food on his plate.

  “Everything okay here?” he asked, glancing from his officers to Evan.

  “Everything’s fine,” Brian murmured. He glanced back over to Danielle and Chris, and watched as the pair made their way back to the house and then walked into the kitchen.

  Evan, who had finished his food, noticed Sadie running around by the front gate. He stood up. “Can I go play with Sadie?”

  “Sure, but leave your plate there. I’ll take it in.”

  Evan dashed away from the table.

  “You sure everything is okay?” the chief asked the officers in a low voice. Eddy, who sat on the other side of his father, away from Brian and Joe, was busy pulling the bread apart on his sandwich, paying no attention to the adults’ conversation.

  “Your youngest son just has an active imagination,” Joe told him.

  MacDonald glanced over to Evan, who was now by the front gate, throwing a ball for Sadie. “Yes…he does.”

  Evan had just picked up the tennis ball when he noticed the woman floating effortlessly through the wrought-iron gate, her dress’s gauze skirt fluttering gently around her. Sadie, who had been anxiously waiting for Evan to pick up and throw the ball, noticed the woman at the same time and, instead of barking, sat down next to Evan and stared up at the woman. The dog cocked her head slightly from right to left.

  “You’re beautiful,” Evan said in awe, his eyes wide.

  Eva Thorndike looked down at the young boy. Judging by his delicate, childlike features, she suspected he was probably younger than one might assume if one judged the boy by his height alone. Tall and lanky, with enormous brown eyes and a pair of the longest, thickest lashes she had ever seen. Eva felt drawn to the boy.

  If I’d had a son, I’d want him to look like this, she thought. There was something both fragile and strong about the boy—curious and unafraid. In her silent appraisal of the lad, it took her a moment to realize—he can see me!

  “You can see me?” she said aloud.

  “Yes. Who are you?” Evan asked.

  Leaning down on one knee so that she could look Evan in the eyes, she studied him. “My name’s Eva. Do you know what I am?”

  “You’re a ghost.”

  She smiled. “And you are a brave lad. You aren’t afraid of ghosts.”

  “Some ghosts are scary. But you aren’t. You’re beautiful.”

  “Why, thank you. What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Evan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Evan. Do you know a lot of ghosts?”

  “I’ve seen some before. But the only one I have ever talked to before is Walt. And now you.”

  Eva stood. “I’m an old friend of Walt’s.”

  Evan glanced back to the table with his father. Joe was no longer at the table, and his father and brother were eating and weren’t looking his way. But Brian Henderson was watching him. Evan knew he probably shouldn’t keep talking to Eva, not where people could see him, but he wanted to keep talking to her. He turned back to Eva.

  “If you want to see Walt, you’ll have to go in the house. He can’t come out here.”

  Eva let out a sigh. “Yes, I know. But actually, I’m here to see Danielle Boatman. Do you know who she is?”

  Evan nodded. “Danielle lives here. She’s like me. She can see ghosts. But Walt doesn’t like to be called that. He likes to be called a spirit.”

  Eva laughed. “Why does that not surprise me? It’s amazing, for almost a century I’ve rarely encountered anyone—anyone living, that is—who can see me. But just this week, you’re the third new person who can.”

  “I bet you’re talking about Heather and Chris,” Evan said with a grin.

  “Ahh, are they friends of yours?”

  Evan nodded.

  “Well, I notice there’s a man staring at us,” Eva said, looking over to Brian. “I suspect I should move on now so as not to get you into trouble. Do you know where Danielle is?”

  “Yes. She and Chris went back in the house.”

  Eva let out a sigh. “Oh my. I really wanted to avoid going inside.”

  “Want me to go get her for you?”

  Eva considered Evan’s offer for a moment and then shook her head. “No, I need to talk to Danielle somewhere a little more private. But it was nice meeting you, Evan.”

  “Will you come back?” he asked.

  Eva smiled down at him. “I suspect I will.”

  Thirty-Four

  Walt had come to appreciate the music of Danielle’s generation. However, it wasn’t his music—his music was jazz. Today he was grateful Lily hadn’t added any jazz to the playlist—the soft background music now blending with the quiet chatter of the wedding guests. Listening to jazz reminded him of a lost life, and instead of making him happy, as it once did, it made him melancholy. The exception was on those rare occasions he took Danielle dancing in a dream hop. Then, he felt alive. He knew it was only an illusion, but it was an indulgence he allowed himself.

  Today was not a day for melancholy or silent reflection. It was a celebration for his dear friend Lily, and he wished her well on her new journey. Most of the wedding guests were scattered throughout the house, while some lingered outside. He heard laughter. It made him smile. Walt enjoyed hearing laughter in his house—a place that had been so excruciatingly silent for so many long decades.

  Standing in the dining room, Walt watched as Joanne began clearing away the empty platters from the buffet. The sandwiches were all gone, and just a few pieces of fruit remained on the bottom of the large crystal salad bowls. Several miniature quiches remained, yet not for long. Walt watched as Joanne popped one in her mouth, while Adam grabbed the remaining two before making his way into the entry hall.

  “There you are,” a familiar voice whispered into Walt’s ear.

  He turned around; it was Danielle.

  “Looks like Lily’s wedding was a success,” Walt told her.

  “Yes, it does,” she whispered, trying her best not to move her lips for fear someone would think she was talking to herself. “Have you seen Lily? I want to see if she’s ready to cut her wedding cake.”

  “She and Ian are in the library. At least they were a few minutes ago.”

  “Thanks, Walt.” Danielle flashed him a grin before head
ing to the library.

  Instead of following Danielle, Walt moved to the kitchen. He was curious to see how many people were still outside. He suspected Danielle would want to call them in before Lily and Ian cut the wedding cake.

  Upon entering the room, Walt glanced at the clock. It was almost one. He knew Lily and Ian planned to be on the road to Portland by two so they could catch their flight to Hawaii. The wedding gifts, piled in the parlor, wouldn’t be opened until the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon.

  Now standing at the window, Walt looked outside and surveyed the portion of the side yard visible to him. His gaze moved to the right, toward the back gate, when he saw her—Eva Thorndike. It was the second time he had seen her since her death. To his surprise, she walked toward the house—toward the door leading to the kitchen. However, walked was not an apt description. She glided—floated—reminding him in a peculiar way of smoke rings—unhurried. He wasn’t sure Eva would appreciate being compared to smoke rings.

  As she neared the house, he thought she was as beautiful as he remembered. Of course, he was thinking back to a time before she had been ravaged by her illness. Now, she was not only beautiful, she bore an ethereal quality. He expected her to stop when she reached the back door—but she didn’t.

  “Eva,” Walt murmured when she abruptly appeared in the kitchen.

  “Hello, Walt,” Eva whispered with a soft smile. “It’s been a long time. How have you been?”

  “Dead,” he said without expression.

  They stared at each other for several moments, neither one showing even a hint of a smile—and then simultaneously they each broke into laughter.

  “Dead? Yes, I know the feeling,” Eva said when she finally stopped laughing.

  Walt grinned. “I must say you look better than the last time we spoke.”

  “I’m feeling much better too,” she said brightly.

  “I imagine your parents aren’t thrilled you haven’t moved on.”

  Eva shrugged. “They understand.”

  Walt arched his brow. “They do?”

  “I saw them both after they died, before they moved on. I explained to them I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready then—I’m still not ready.”

  Walt nodded. “I understand.”

  “And you, Walt? Why haven’t you moved on?” She glanced around the kitchen. “From what I hear, you can’t leave this house.”

  “But I can do this.” Walt looked to the dining room table. It lifted several feet into the air and then drifted back down to the floor.

  “You were always a bit of a show-off,” she teased.

  “So why are you here, Eva? I know you’ve been avoiding me for the past century.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  Walt arched his brows. “Really?”

  “I looked after you, Walt, for a number of years. But then you got involved with her.” She shuddered.

  Walt sighed. “Angela?”

  “You always had horrible taste in women.”

  “I was in love with you,” he gently reminded her.

  “Exactly. And I was all wrong for you.”

  Walt smiled softly. “I know that now. I was just a boy back then. I romanticized the deep love I had for a friend.”

  Eva tipped her head to one side and studied Walt. “Are you saying you’re no longer in love with me?”

  “I still love you—as a friend—as a sister. But I’m older now, perhaps not in physical years but in actual years. If you know what I mean.”

  Eva considered his comment for a moment. Finally, she nodded and said, “Yes, I think I do.”

  “So tell me, Eva, why are you here?” Walt asked.

  “I need to see Danielle.”

  He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s that woman—the one who I told her about the last time I was here. Did Danielle tell you about it?”

  “Yes, what about her?”

  Before Eva could answer, Danielle walked into the kitchen with Lily. She froze a minute when she saw Eva.

  Lily glanced at Danielle and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Um…nothing. Hi, Walt.” Danielle glanced from Walt to Eva.

  “I suppose you don’t want Lily to know Eva is here,” Walt surmised. “And considering we don’t want to upset her today, you’re probably right.”

  “Walt, thank you again for saving the day,” Lily said quickly, glancing behind her to see if anyone was walking into the kitchen. “If it wasn’t for you, Dad and I would have taken a header down those stairs! I hate that my sister was right about me tripping.”

  “He said you’re welcome.” Danielle sounded as if she were in a hurry.

  “No, I didn’t. But I would have,” Walt told her.

  “Lily and Ian are going to cut their cake now,” Danielle said. “We’re going outside to see who wants to come in and watch.”

  “When you’re finished, meet Eva and me in your bedroom. Eva needs to talk to you.”

  “It’s important,” Eva added.

  Danielle couldn’t stop wondering why Eva had come today. The fact she had entered Marlow House, something she had resisted doing since Walt’s death, told her it must be important. During the cutting of the wedding cake, Danielle had stood near the doorway leading to the hallway. It was fairly crowded in the dining room, with some people standing in the various doorways, peeking in.

  Lily had just smashed a piece of cake in Ian’s face when Danielle decided to slip from the room. She didn’t see Eva or Walt, so she assumed they had already gone upstairs to her room. As Danielle hurried up the staircase, those who saw her assumed she was heading upstairs to use one of the bathrooms on the second floor. Considering the number of wedding guests, the downstairs bathroom had been kept fairly busy.

  Once in her bedroom, Danielle closed the door behind her and locked it. She found Walt and Eva in the sitting area, Eva on the small sofa, Walt standing by the fireplace.

  “What is this all about?” Danielle asked.

  “I think you should sit down,” Walt instructed.

  With a nod, Danielle took a seat next to Eva.

  “She’s going to kill me?” Danielle asked numbly after Eva explained what she had overheard at the cemetery.

  “No, she’s not going to kill you,” Walt snapped. “I won’t let her.”

  “What if she tries to shoot me when I’m away from Marlow House?”

  “We know she’s going to be here at five. You need to stay in the house until the chief can arrest her,” Walt said.

  “Yes, but isn’t she going to have to do something for him to be able to arrest her?” Danielle asked. “Just showing up won’t do it. After all, that fake Kent invited her here.”

  “We need to keep Kent in the house, and when she tries to shoot him, I won’t let her. And then the chief can make his arrest,” Walt explained.

  Danielle sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s the most obvious solution. I just hope we can keep Kent in the house.”

  “If he goes outside and gets himself shot, that’s his problem,” Walt said. “Anyway, maybe that would be for the best. If she just shoots him but doesn’t kill him, then maybe Kent can get his body back. And if she does kill him, well, that’s probably the best for Pamela.”

  “I don’t want anyone getting killed. I don’t want that spirit hanging around here.” Danielle cringed. “Anyway, if it isn’t a fatal wound, I don’t see that guy giving up the body.”

  “Danielle’s right,” Eva said. “From what I understand, in cases like this, when a spirit claims another body, it tends to be more aware of its surroundings—less likely to wander off temporarily.”

  “I suppose I need to talk to the chief.” Danielle stood up.

  Thirty-Five

  Lily stood in the middle of her bedroom, zipping up the back of her linen dress, while Danielle hung the vintage wedding gown on the padded clothes hanger. After hanging the gown in the closet, Danielle turned back to Lily, who was now stand
ing in front of her dresser mirror, gently tucking stray tendrils back in place and removing the last of the miniature rosebuds and delicate foliage from her hair. Lily hadn’t taken her hair down, nor did she intend to—at least not until they checked into their hotel room. However, the rosebuds and baby’s breath was a little much for her current outfit.

  “You look very classy,” Danielle observed.

  Lily’s linen dress, the same shade as her wedding gown, boasted simple lines and three-quarter-length sleeves. The dress was new; it was the first time she had worn it.

  “Thank you. Mom bought it for me.” Lily stretched out her right arm, turning it from side to side for Danielle to see. The sleeve hid her dragon tattoo. “One hint that Mom picked it out, the sleeves. She never considers short sleeves for me anymore. I’m afraid she would die if she saw the outfits I bought for Hawaii. Not a long sleeve in the bunch.”

  “In this case, I think your mom made a good choice. The dress looks lovely on you, especially with your hair up like that.”

  Lily grinned. “Thanks, Dani. I know people never dress up for flights anymore, but when Mom showed me her honeymoon pictures—she and Dad also went to Hawaii for their honeymoon, you know—she had a picture of her and Dad getting ready to get on the plane, and she was all dressed up, so darn cute. I told Ian I wanted to do that too.”

  Danielle glanced at the two pieces of luggage sitting by the closed door. “You all packed?”

  “Yep. Ready to go.” Lily picked up her purse off her bed and started rummaging through it, making sure everything she needed was there.

  “I’m surprised your mother and Laura aren’t up here watching you get ready.”

  Lily closed her purse and chuckled. “I think Laura is over playing handmaiden. I’m pretty sure she’s downstairs flirting with Chris. And when I left Mom, she was in a deep discussion with Ian’s mom about Christmas.”

  “Christmas?” Danielle frowned.

  “I don’t think Mom was thrilled we didn’t spend Christmas with her last year. I suspect the two are plotting.” Lily closed her purse. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she faced Danielle and smiled.