A knock on the door of my room made me jump out of my chair.
“I think that young man is at the door, Rachel, and I doubt he’s here for me.”
“Okay, Gran! Thanks!” I glanced in the mirror and sighed. Where had the time gone? I looked messy, but I had my mother’s nice eyes and Gran’s sassy smile. That was all I needed.
I practically ran down the stairs to answer the door. What was I doing inviting a near stranger to my home? This was so unlike me, but there was something about Angus. Something hidden. Something interesting. Despite the fact that I now knew he was entirely real and not a ghost, I wanted Gran to “scan” him. I valued her opinion.
And that was when the trouble really began.
Chapter Nine – Carrie Jo
The phone rang a number of times, but we chose not to answer it. It would just be the neighbors wanting to make sure we were “all okay.” Or more to the point, they wanted to know what was going on over here. That was the downside of living in this tightknit community—inquiring minds always wanted to know. The only time I did answer the phone was when my mother called. I had to give her the rundown, and she didn’t seem surprised by any of it. I got the impression she wasn’t that pleased with Ashland, but then again, she didn’t trust men in general. She let me know that she’d be back in Mobile in a few days. She had her property squared away and was ready to make a new life with us. And, she informed me, there’d be no day care for AJ. She’d keep him for me. I felt my back bristle at that, but I kept my mouth shut. At least for now. I’d learned to pick my battles.
Despite her pushiness when it came to her grandson, I was glad she was coming back. It was nice to have my mother in my life, and baby AJ loved her. To avoid further interruption, I turned off the ringers on all the phones. Our best friends hung around for a few hours, and we made quick work of the spiral ham and tasty sides Doreen had left for us. Detra Ann and I tidied up the kitchen and she continued to pepper me with questions. I was ready to talk about something else but was too polite to say so.
We joined the guys in the living room, and I hunkered down on the comfy couch next to Ashland.
“Has she lost her mind? Why would she make a move like that right here in your house, CJ?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Henri piped up, sounding a little snappy. He’d been quiet up to now. I was beginning to wonder if we’d ticked him off somehow.
“It’s not obvious to me. What are you thinking?” Ashland rubbed his stubble and passed the red ball back to the baby. AJ thought throwing it over the side of the playpen was a hoot. I’d gotten tired of retrieving it, but my husband didn’t seem to mind at all. I’d give him about a dozen more catches. Like me, he looked tired. I hadn’t given it much thought, but I guessed all the travel was catching up on him.
“She’s after a payday. And since she couldn’t seduce you to get what she wanted, she’ll eventually accuse you of sexual harassment. She had two options. Blackmail or file a lawsuit. Since CJ busted her, I would say the latter now. And I’m no expert, but I’d say Libby Stevenson is definitely the lawsuit kind of gal, being a lawyer and all. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got served in the very near future.” Henri tossed back the remnants of his drink. He was drinking the hard stuff tonight, Kentucky bourbon. He crunched the ice in his teeth and stared at us. For an uncomfortable moment nobody said a word. When the silence got strained enough, I piped in. That’s me. The old icebreaker.
“What’s up, Henri? We’re your friends. You can tell us what’s going on,” I said to him point-blank. My gut instinct told me something was majorly wrong.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” he replied with an empty smile.
Detra Ann burst into the conversation, “You are lying! I know you are, so stop it. What’s really going on?”
With his elbows on his knees and his fists together under his chin, he looked like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. His warm brown eyes were expressive and sad. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. We’ll talk later.”
“No way! I want to know now. If it’s that bad, I want our friends around. What is it, Harry? You’re scaring me.”
He rubbed his hands together and clapped them. Now he looked as uncomfortable as a prostitute in church, as Bette would say.
“I don’t think I can get married until I know what happened to Aleezabeth.”
“What?” Detra Ann asked, blinking at him.
“I made a promise to Lenore, and I haven’t lived up to it. Not at all. Lenore gave her life for us. The least we could do is find out what happened to Aleezabeth. I love you, Detra Ann. I would never have asked you to marry me if I didn’t. I want to marry you, but if we married right now I’d be bringing half myself. I don’t want that for us, and you don’t deserve that.”
“Are you serious? After everything we’ve been through?”
“Sugar, it’s because of what we’ve been through that I can say this. I love you. Please help me find out what happened to Aleezabeth so I can move on with my life—hopefully, if you still love me, we’ll take that step together.”
“What if we can’t find her? What then?”
He sighed sadly. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” She had the baby between her legs on the floor. She’d taken him out a few minutes ago so he could roll the ball to Ashland rather than throw it across the room. She’d helped him retrieve the ball one last time, and he excitedly rolled it back to his Daddy and clapped his hands, oblivious to the escalating tension.
I felt desperate to preserve our happy family, so again I spoke up. “Detra Ann, I think what he’s saying is…”
Her blue eyes widened and she said, “Please tell me you are not taking his side, CJ.”
I ignored Ashland’s warning look. In for a penny, in for a pound. “There are no sides here, Detra Ann. I think what he’s trying to say is he needs closure. And we…”
“I love you to pieces, but this has nothing to do with you.” She handed the baby to Ashland and kissed the squirming child’s head. She stood up calmly and straightened her clothes. She was leaving, and she was ticked at both Henri and me now.
“I told you I wanted to talk about this alone, not in public,” he began. You are totally screwing this up, Henri. I tried to send him mental cues. Too bad we weren’t telepaths.
“You know what. I just want to go home. Be by myself for a while.” She raised her manicured hand politely to stop him. “I’ll drive myself, if you don’t mind.”
“No, take your time. I’ll call you later.”
“Or not. I’m okay either way.” She grabbed her cashmere cardigan and leather purse and walked out the front door. At least she didn’t slam it.
What was happening? “Go after her, Henri. Tell her you’re sorry.”
Ashland stood now and brought the baby to me. I knew what he was doing. Trying to shut me up, his subtle way of reminding me once again that this had nothing to do with me. “Carrie Jo…I think AJ is hungry.”
“Then feed him. His cereal is in his bag.” I stared at the closed door and wondered if I should go after her myself. For some reason I felt panic rise up within me. As if I would never see her again. Or she’d tumble back inside a bottle and might not quit until she drank herself to death. When TD died, she drank for months. Henri and all of us had to band together to help pull her out of that dark, dangerous place.
“Please, babe.”
After another moment of hesitation, I walked back in the living room with the baby. I showed him the cereal bowl in the diaper bag, and he bounced up and down with joy. Yep, he was my hungry boy! I put him on my hip—funny how that felt so natural, like he’d always been there—pulled the plastic lid back and gave him a few pieces of his favorite cereal treat. He chomped on them with his two white teeth and quickly wanted more. I had to pop them in fast or else he’d bite me in the process, which he thought was hysterical. Me? Not so much.
W
e sat on the couch together. I put AJ beside me and propped him up with pillows to keep him from tumbling off the sofa. My son had absolutely no fear of heights or falling or anything else except sleep. He smiled through his snack, showing teeth and bits of cereal. It was amazing how much I loved that sweet face. His dimples appeared, those Stuart dimples, and I smiled at him despite the drama that was playing out in my living room. “Good boy, AJ. Eat up.” I touched his patch of blond hair that my mother liked to call duck fuzz and rubbed his perfectly round head. I felt so blessed to have such a lovely, happy baby.
I quietly listened as Ashland tried to encourage his friend—without my help. “Henri, I let you down. I should have told you what I’ve been seeing, but I’ve been so tied up in my own world I just lost track of the important things like my family and friends. You are like family to us. Please let us help you. I’ll be happy to look, and Carrie Jo can dream. Do you have something that belonged to her? Something CJ can use to see her for dream catching?”
“I have a picture of her. Will that work?” Henri seemed overjoyed to hear that we wanted to help. Ash was right. We were lousy friends. Henri dug in his wallet and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He was awash with emotions. I wanted to throw my arms around him and then kick him out the door after Detra Ann.
“It might. You never know. I’ll give it a try tonight.” I accepted the worn photo and studied the serene face that stared back at me. What could have happened to her? “If I see or hear anything useful, I will let you know. I swear.”
Henri nodded and said, “I hope I didn’t just lose the best thing that ever happened to me. I love Detra Ann.”
“She’ll understand,” I said with false sincerity. I was glad Detra Ann wasn’t here to witness my lie. I wasn’t too good at it. I didn’t know what would happen. Not now or anytime. All I could do was dream about the past—only once had I seen the future. AJ began to fuss and reach for the photo. I put a piece of cereal in his damp hand instead. I stared at the picture some more, and with ninja speed AJ snatched it from me.
“No, baby AJ! That’s not yours.” His bow lips curled up in a cry, and he reached for the picture again. I slid the photo in my back pants pocket and noticed a whiff of something putrid. “Excuse me, y’all. Baby bomb here.” If Henri hadn’t been here, I would have foisted the job on Ash, but it wasn’t to be. I took the baby, a diaper and a pack of his wipes to the other side of the room behind the loveseat. I probably should have given them some privacy, but I was nosy like my neighbors. I had to know what was happening.
“I do see Aleezabeth, but she’s with someone,” Ashland said in a near whisper, as if he were seeing her right now. Maybe he was. “What’s weird is I don’t think he’s a ghost. I mean, I don’t know that she is either…I’m sorry I said that.”
“No apologies needed. I’ve come to terms with the fact that she’s dead, but I have to know what happened. She deserves to be vindicated if there is any wrongdoing involved.”
“It’s like he’s not all visible, so I can’t really see his face clearly. That might mean that he’s still alive and not yet a spirit or that he’s at rest. I’m not really sure,” he confessed. I listened to it all, the hair on my arms creeping up as I endured AJ’s unpleasant gift. Thankfully the baby didn’t wrestle with me. It was like he was listening too. “Yes, she’s close to you, like she knows you want to find her. She’s showing me him again. Hmm…that’s interesting. He’s about your height, but I can’t see any of his features. She’s doing this now.” Ashland made a motion across his upper lip. “Gosh, I wish I could hear her, but I can’t. I think she’s trying to say he has or had a mustache. Wait. Something about music. What is that? I think it’s a saxophone. Yes, she’s with a man who plays the saxophone. Or she was. Does that mean anything to you?”
Henri gasped and said, “Yes, I think so. She’s talking about my father, her uncle. He must know something about what happened. He disappeared not long after she did, but I just assumed he ran out on us. Trevor, my father, he had a knack for leaving when times got tough. I never put the two together. Oh God! I hope this doesn’t mean he was involved. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I haven’t seen him in over twenty years.” He was crying now. Ashland sat beside him, saying nothing, just resting his hand on Henri’s shoulder. Darn! Why had Detra Ann cut out of here so early? She would have learned so much. I was disappointed in her, but I would never tell her that. Unless she asked me. Then I wouldn’t be able to lie about it because she’d know.
Well, we had a clue at least. A place to start, and we were one step closer to getting them in front of that altar. I wish he’d just have told us how he felt instead of telling her that he was having second thoughts. Or whatever you called it. I wrapped up AJ’s stink bomb, put him in the playpen and dropped the diaper in the kitchen garbage can.
I closed the garbage can and grabbed the can of deodorizer. I sprayed the kitchen with the vanilla scent, hoping it would mask the smell of my foul baby.
Only the scent that came out wasn’t vanilla. It smelled like an old perfume, Vanderbilt. Oh my gosh! It smelled like Lenore. Exactly like her. I stared at the label. It plainly said vanilla, and I’d used it many times before. No, this wasn’t a mistake.
Lenore was making her presence known, but in a sweet, comfortable way.
She loved Henri, but she was holding her cousin to his promise. He wasn’t lying. He had to find Aleezabeth now. The spirits were tired of waiting. They wanted to rest now.
Time to put Aleezabeth and Lenore to rest.
Not just for the dead but for the living too.
Chapter Ten – Rachel
How quickly the weekend flew by! Just like Gran promised, the construction crew was pulling in the driveway as I left for work Monday morning. All I could do was shake my head at the idea of such a project. Gran’s generosity was humbling.
When I graduated from college I’d toyed with the idea of moving out into my own place; the Stuarts paid me well, despite their current situation. But Gran wouldn’t hear of it. She liked having us around, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to control you. I had friends in and out of her house all the time growing up. That hadn’t changed, but there weren’t as many friends hanging out around the neighborhood anymore. Most of the young women my age were getting married, having babies and settling down into family lives of some sort or another. I wasn’t in a hurry. And I’d never been in love.
But then I met Angus. He intrigued me, and I knew right from the get-go that Gran wasn’t crazy about him. Which was also crazy, since she never disliked anyone. I guess that was the word for it. She wouldn’t talk about it; in fact, when she finally came downstairs to meet him, she barely spoke. Yeah, it was weird. I apologized to Angus, but he didn’t seem to notice that Gran was behaving strangely. Then again, how could he have known how she usually behaved? He was polite and friendly, and I liked him. Probably too much, too soon.
That first night we went for a walk around my neighborhood. Besides plenty of shade trees, there was a small park in the center of it that I loved to haunt when I could. I spent many a happy day hanging out with Julie and Karla on the swings. We called ourselves the “Swing Queens.” We’d challenge each other to see who could swing the highest, and it was amazing fun until Julie’s mother brought the hammer down on us. Of course that was after her daughter broke her arm falling from a ridiculous height. And it kind of freaked me out to see it. I never went that high on a swing again.
It was a warm evening, warmer than any we’d had so far this year, but some tidy homeowner was burning leaves somewhere so the air smelled like fall even though it was February. I adored the smell of burning leaves. We didn’t hold hands or anything romantic, but it was exciting. We talked about how he spent his early childhood in the U.K., sometimes in Scotland, sometimes in London with his grandparents. He’d moved to the U.S. about four years ago, but he said Alabama felt like home.
“Really? How is that? It’s got to be so
different.”
“When I was a child, I lived in Mobile for about two years. Short stay, but I went to Morningside Elementary, and I hated leaving those friends behind when it was time to go. I spent the rest of my life getting back.”
“Were you able to reconnect with those old friends?”
“Not really. I was too young to remember a lot of their addresses or even their last names, but I’m glad to be here.” We walked over to the swings. The poor old park was in such disrepair. It needed some attention for sure. Some of the swings were broken, and all of them were a bit rusty. We found two together and sat in them. “What about you? What’s your story, Rachel? Where have you traveled?”
“I took a senior trip to Jamaica, and I’ve been to Natchez, Mississippi, about a half dozen times. My Gran loves going on those hokey plantation tours. I guess that’s where I get my love for old places. And I’ve been to Pensacola, Destin and Gulf Shores for the beaches.”
“You like the beach?” He smiled. “I can see that you do. Nice freckle patch across your nose.”
“Hey—I like my freckles,” I said lightly. “And yes, I love the beach. Don’t you?”
“Red hair. Pale skin. The beach is not my friend.”
The Ghosts of Idlewood Page 8
