Spirit Talk: (Book One of The Fiona Series)

by Colleen McManus Hein

  “What are you scared of, Henry?” Fiona whispered. She felt a giggle welling up inside her chest and she stifled it. It wasn’t a funny situation but the urge to laugh persisted.

  Now Henry was making snuffling noises. It also sounded like he was hitting the receiver against something, possibly his face or head. “I can’t let Ryan see me like this!”

  Fiona put a hand up to her face and sat down on the little stool next to the phone table. “Henry, it’s okay. Calm down.”

  “It’s not okay!” Henry cried. “He can’t…I can’t…”

  “Henry, do you need me to come over?” Fiona asked.

  There was a pause, then Henry said, “Could you pleash?”

  She looked down at her bare feet peeking out from her nightgown. “I’ll be right there.” She sighed. “Leave the front door unlocked and go lay down.” At Henry’s end, she heard the receiver drop. She winced, hanging up gently so as not to wake her grandmother.

  She changed quickly into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and threw on her jacket, boots, hat, and gloves, stopping only to write a note for her grandmother:

  Grandma Mary-

  Don’t be scared! Henry Hudson called in the middle of the night. He’s sick with the flu or something and he asked if I could come over and care for Ryan. I’ll call in the morning.

  -Fi

  Walking through downtown Fireside in the dark was spooky. A light layer of snow blanketed everything, and the town looked surreal. An almost full moon cast a light onto the snow and gave it a bluish glow. Fiona walked and worried about what was happening to Henry. At Henry’s block, Fiona noticed that his house was the only one with lights on.

  She let herself in the front door. The living room was a mess. Ryan’s toys were scattered over every surface. A plastic bowl of dry Cheerios had tipped onto the rug and someone’s feet had crushed the cereal to powder. A baby bottle was tucked upside-down between the couch cushions and another bottle was lying on the seat of the rocking chair.

  An issue of Time had been shredded mercilessly, its pages pulling away from the seam like a modern art installation. It looked like Ryan had hosted a wild, unsupervised toddler bash.

  Fiona kicked off her snow boots and ran up the stairs to Ryan’s bedroom. She held her breath as she pushed open the door. He was asleep in his crib, clad in a matching Winnie the Pooh pajama top and bottom. His arms were flung to each side and his angelic face was pink-cheeked and clean. Fiona released a sigh of relief and backed out of the room, closing the door halfway.

  Next, she tip-toed down the hall to Henry’s bedroom. His door was open, and from the hall she could see the bottom half of his bed and body. He was wearing shoes. She inched further along, hoping Henry was asleep and she could turn out his light and shut the door. As his head came into view, however, Fiona saw that he was awake and looking right at her. “Fionya!” he called out, “you came!”

  She scurried into the bedroom and held her fingers to her lips. “Ryan’s sleeping,” she whispered, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “Fionya,” Henry repeated, “I did a stupid thing. I drank all that…vodka.” He waggled his fingers at the empty bottle on the nightstand.

  “It’s okay, Henry. You did the right thing by calling someone. When Ryan wakes up, I’ll tell him you’re not feeling well. You just sleep now.”

  “You’re so nishe, Fionya. You’re a nishe girl.” Henry smiled sweetly at her, his eyes red and his hair matted to his head on one side.

  “Thanks, Henry. You’re a nice man. Now, I’m going to bring you a big glass of water and you’re going to take off your shoes and go to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Henry said cooperatively but not moving. “Fionya,” he slurred, “can I ask you a…question?” He stuttered a little over “question.”

  “Sure, Henry,” Fiona answered as she began to untie his left shoelace and pull the shoe off his foot.

  “Are you,” Henry started giggling, “a wish?”

  “A wish?” she repeated, beginning to untie his other shoe.

  “Yeah,” Henry said, growing serious. “I mean, like, a good wish, a sexshy one.” He started laughing again. “Not like one with a green face.”

  Now Henry was giggling so hard that tears were forming at the corners of his eyes. “You found Ryan’s bear and I thought you mush be a wish.” His head dropped back against his pillow. “Everyone says your grandma’s one, so I thought you mush be one, too.”

  “Yes, Henry,” Fiona said soothingly. “I am a witch, and I’m going to cast a spell on you.” She lifted her hands over Henry’s head and made circles in the air with an imaginary wand. “I’m going to make you close your eyes and fall asleep. When you wake up, you’re going to have a very bad headache and stomachache, but you’ll feel better by Sunday.” She looked at his bleary face. “Hopefully,” she added, lowering her imaginary wand.

  Henry grinned at her. “You’re nishe,” he gurgled.

  “Go to sleep now,” Fiona whispered, backing out of the room and turning off the light. As she passed the bathroom and spied the garbage can under the sink, she grabbed it and returned to Henry’s bedroom. In the light from the hallway, Fiona could see that he was already asleep. She left the garbage can next to his bed.

  Downstairs, Fiona cleared toys, books, and the baby bottle off the couch then lay across the cushions, pulling a cheerful granny square afghan over her body. She wished she could call the pay phone in Janie’s dorm and tell her about the bizarre night, but she figured even the college kids were asleep by now.

  Chapter 16

  Fiona was awakened by Ryan’s voice calling out from his crib. As her mind swam up to consciousness, she thought for a moment that she was back at Ann and Rick’s and waking to Nula’s morning vocalizations.

  Startled for a moment, she remembered the previous night and leaped off the couch, taking the stairs two at a time. She slowed down before opening Ryan’s door, not wanting to scare him with her unexpected presence. When Ryan saw her, though, he smiled hugely and held up his arms for her to lift him out of his crib. He did an excited little dance, his feet bouncing off the mattress.

  Fiona bent and wrapped her arms around him, pulling his little body out of the crib. His hair, slightly sweaty from sleep, smelled like warm baby shampoo. Fiona inhaled deeply, thinking of Nula. Ryan’s diaper was heavy with urine and she could feel it bulging through his pajamas. She carried him to the changing table and placed him on his back, smiling down at his perfect face. Ryan was looking up at her with delight as she pulled his pajama bottoms off and began to tear the plastic tabs holding his diaper together. “Do you remember me?” Fiona asked.

  Ryan met her gaze shyly for a moment, then looked away and giggled. He flailed both arms happily as Fiona ran a wipe over his bottom, then unfolded a dry diaper. She was relieved that Ryan’s diaper only contained pee.

  “Do you remember me, Ryan?” she repeated. Ryan released a squeal of laughter, as if Fiona had said something monumentally funny.

  Fiona kept one hand on Ryan’s belly to steady him as she pulled open a dresser drawer, looking for an outfit. She spotted a toddler-sized pair of blue jeans, a onesie undershirt, and a tiny Minnesota North Stars hockey jersey. Fiona wasn’t experienced with boys’ clothes, but she liked the selection. Ryan looked sporty and slightly rugged.

  “Down,” he said, raising his arms again so Fiona could lift him off the changing table. As soon as Ryan’s feet hit the floor, he toddled quickly out the door, turning right and heading for Henry’s bedroom. Fiona lurched after him. Ryan could move a lot more quickly than she'd expected. She caught up with him as he was about to push open Henry’s door.

  “Dad’s sleeping,” she whispered as she scooped him up. “Let’s go eat breakfast!”

  “Breakfish!” Ryan said enthusiastically.

  As Ryan happily ambled through the living room and touched his toys, apparently trying to decide which ones to play with first, Fiona flicked her eyes around the kitchen. She wasn’t
sure what to give him for breakfast. She knew that Nula often ate baby oatmeal and fruit, but she wasn’t sure if Henry had any. She finally decided on her grandmother’s solution to every meal: toast and scrambled eggs. For Ryan, she added milk in a bottle and for herself, a mug of tea.

  The carton of milk was close to empty, but there was plenty of butter, bread, and eggs. Already familiar with Henry’s kitchen, Fiona located a skillet and spatula without any problem.

  When the eggs cooled, she invited Ryan to sit in his high chair and eat. He agreed and tucked into his toast and nibbled a few bites of scrambled eggs. Fiona tried to get him to use his rubber-coated baby fork, but he continued to tweeze the clumps of egg between his fingers. It was impossible to keep the wiggly chunks on the fork.

  While Ryan ate, Fiona talked to him and sipped her tea. She asked him how old he was, and he just laughed. But he seemed to be learning the names of colors, a lot of different objects, and especially animals. She made Ryan giggle when she “mooed” like a cow and “meowed” like a cat.

  She desperately wished Ann and Nula were there with them. It was peaceful yet lonely to sit with Ryan; she could see how Henry could get depressed. It must have been a joy for him and Carol to marvel at their beautiful son together. Enjoying Ryan would be a painful reminder for Henry of Carol’s absence.

  At the thought of Carol, Fiona realized that she had not ‘heard’ from her the entire time she’d been at the house. Considering the intensity of the situation the night before, she was surprised that Carol hadn’t been “present.” Maybe she’d found peace and had moved beyond them?

  After Ryan would eat no more and began to restlessly squirm, Fiona lifted him out of his high chair. She was able to tidy the kitchen and still see Ryan in the living room as he played with his toys. After the kitchen was neat again, she tackled the living room. Fiona threw away the shredded Time magazine with Garrison Keillor on the front and rescued another, an issue with Charles and Diana beaming from the cover, which had been shoved between the recliner and the wall.

  She brought used cups and plates to the kitchen sink to soak. She put all the blocks into one basket, placed the miscellaneous baby toys in a second basket, and stacked the baby books on a low shelf.

  When the room no longer looked like a herd of toddlers had stormed through, Fiona pulled Ryan onto her lap and opened The Poky Little Puppy, which she almost knew by heart after reading it to Nula multiple times. While they were reading, she heard Henry walking around upstairs and the sound of the shower running. Then, while they were reading Scuffy the Tugboat, Henry appeared. His hair was wet and his cheeks had the shiny sheen of skin that’s been closely shaved. His face, however, looked haggard and his eyes were bleary.

  Ryan smiled delightedly at his father but stayed in Fiona’s lap. He was pointing to a picture of Scuffy the Tugboat and saying something that sounded like “Tuff.”

  Henry dropped into the recliner and put his head briefly in his hands, then looked sheepishly at Fiona. “I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured. “I’m so ashamed.”

  Fiona smiled and shook her head. “Henry, please don’t beat yourself up. We’ve all been there.”

  He clasped his head again. “I feel like absolute hell.” He groaned. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like that.” He glanced at Fiona again, his eyes still red. “I’m not sure, but I think I was a real ass.”

  Ryan let out a loud giggle at that moment and Henry winced.

  Fiona, turning a page and continuing to read the story softly to Ryan, said, “I’m not a rookie, Henry. You should have seen how drunk I was the Saturday after my high school boyfriend broke up with me.”

  “Yeah,” Henry nodded, “but you’re young. I’m a grown man solely responsible for an almost three-year-old.”

  “Still,“ Fiona sighed, lowering the book as Ryan raised it into the air. “You’ve been through a lot lately. And you’re still young, too.”

  “I’m twenty-eight,” Henry said, “but I feel like I’m forty-eight.” He cringed. “You were so nice to come over and help me,” he added, looking very earnest, “and I need you to know that last night was not who I am. I haven’t been drunk like that since my bachelor party. Christ.” He stood. “The most alcohol I drink is a beer after work and a few beers on the weekend. That bottle of vodka has been in the closet since Christmas.”

  Henry walked toward the kitchen and Fiona could hear him filling the carafe for the coffee maker with water. “You want a cup?” he called to her.

  “Sure,” she answered, “but you’re out of milk.”

  The refrigerator door closed with a clap. “Crap,” Henry said from the kitchen. “Powdered milk okay?”

  “Sure,” Fiona agreed, “and sugar, too, please.”

  Henry returned with a mug for himself and one for Fiona. Ryan slid off Fiona’s lap and ran to hug his father. As he returned Ryan’s hug with his free hand, he looked intently at Fiona. His face was handsome and chiseled even with the puffiness from his hangover. “I’m not doing well,” Henry confided. “I’m not holding things together.” He gestured to the room. “I know it didn’t look like this when you got here last night. I appreciate your cleaning up.”

  “It’s got to be so hard,” Fiona said sympathetically, “working full time and caring for Ryan.”

  “It’s impossible!” Henry snorted. “The girl from the college already called in sick on Tuesday, and then Thursday she called me at the bank at four and said she needed to leave early. My boss has been very understanding, but that’s not going to last forever.” He sighed. “I’m going to lose my job if I can’t find consistent care for Ryan.”

  “What about the woman who watches Ryan the rest of the week? Would she watch him every day?” Fiona suggested.

  “No.” Henry said forlornly. “Her husband is semi-retired and he wants her free on Tuesdays and Thursdays to do...whatever it is semi-retired people do around here. I had Ginny bail me out on Tuesday, but I can’t keep relying on her. She’s got a business to run. I also have a feeling this girl from the college isn’t coming back, which is okay because I don’t think she was taking great care of Ryan.”

  Fiona put Scuffy the Tugboat on the coffee table, suddenly shy. “You know, Henry, I’ve been looking for a job and not having much luck. No one around here is hiring in the winter.”

  Henry’s head snapped up like it was on a string. “Are you serious?” he asked. “I thought you were working for your grandma?”

  “I am,” Fiona responded, “but she doesn’t really need me. I mean, we just sit in the shop and crochet with the Care Crochet ladies. Hardly any real customers come in. Also, my grandmother can’t afford to pay me and I’m starting to run out of money.”

  Henry’s eyes were suddenly bright with excitement. “Jesus.” He exhaled. “If you could babysit on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I could pay you a hundred a week.”

  Now it was Fiona’s turn to smile. “Seriously? That would be great.”

  “It would be well worth it,” Henry said, “but don’t you plan on going back home soon? Maybe school for the spring semester?”

  Fiona shook her head. “I’m really enjoying getting to know my grandmother. She’s...teaching me a lot. I’ve decided to take a whole year off from college before I figure out what I want to do. There’s nothing for me in Lake Quinn right now except some depressing memories.”

  She and Henry were both quiet for a moment, then he said, “Well, talk it over with your grandmother, and if she says it’s okay, could you start on Tuesday?”

  “For sure. Grandma Mary won’t say no. She really cared a lot about Carol and now you and Ryan, too. She’ll be happy that we’re helping one another.”

  Henry looked down ruefully at his coffee cup, then back up at Fiona. “Does she know,” he asked haltingly, “why you came over last night?”

  Fiona laughed. “I left her a note that you had come down with a bad flu and couldn’t take care of Ryan.”

  Henry’s shoulders sagged wi
th relief. “I appreciate that. People in town have been so good to me since Carol died. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

  They sat in silence for a bit, sipping their coffee and watching Ryan play. Fiona felt elated at the prospect of earning some money. A hundred extra dollars every week was a fortune.

  “Fiona,” Henry exclaimed suddenly, “do you think I could pay you a half day on Saturdays, too? Just so I could grocery shop without Ryan? He’s a handful at the Golden Goose.”

  Especially with a bad hangover, Fiona thought but did not say out loud. “Of course. Even better. Like I said, I’m pretty broke.”

  “Excellent.” Henry blew out a long breath, beginning to stand. He stopped midway to his feet, however, and clasped his stomach. His expression looked like he was fighting a wave of nausea.

  “Henry,” Fiona volunteered, “I also have to grocery shop today for myself and Grandma Mary. Do you want me to pick up some things for you and Ryan? The Golden Goose might not be a real pleasant experience for you today.”

  He dropped back into his chair. “Fiona,” he said, shaking his head weakly, “you are the very best. You read my mind.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, took out his wallet and car keys, and handed Fiona three twenty-dollar bills. “You have a driver’s license, right?”

  “For almost three whole years,” Fiona quipped, taking the keys and the cash. What she didn’t mention was that she’d never driven a pickup truck.

  When she got behind the wheel, though, she liked how she was high above the road and the other cars. As she cruised toward Main Street, her hands curled tightly around the thick steering wheel, she felt a thrill of excitement. She wished Ann and Rick could see her driving a pickup. The cab of the truck smelled like Henry, and the thought sent a flutter through her belly.

  Chapter 17

  In the weeks leading up to the holidays, Fiona fell into a pleasant routine. Almost every day began with a quick trip to the Golden Goose for groceries. Growing up, her mother had done a huge grocery shopping on weekends and bought enough bread, fruit, vegetables, milk, yogurt, meat, and cookies to get the family through a week of meals.