by Gary Jonas
Simon paced in front of Madame Rousseau. “You’re hurting my feelings, Landy. But you are a master liar. Hell, you ought to be a science fiction writer with that imagination. You could tell the good folks of New Orleans that we met on the moon, made love in orbit on the way back to Earth, or that you gave birth on a space station for all I care. But to lie about having your own kids? That’s a new low, even for you.”
Kelly tensed beneath me, but she couldn’t move beyond flexing a bit. I wanted to get up, but I needed to bide my time because I didn’t want to just fall on my face.
“You promised after Emmanuel, you were done with all that, and now I hear you done raised some agent of the FBI, and you’re trying to pin the blame on me.”
Madame Rousseau shrugged.
My mind worked just fine, and as he spoke, some of the discrepancies were falling into place. Son or grandson? Daughter or granddaughter? Madame Rousseau wanted her children to believe she wasn’t their mother? Maybe she was embarrassed to have slept with Papa Simon. But if Grady was the father, how did Papa Simon fit into the equation, and why the hell did he think Madame Rousseau was their mother?
And why was Simon here now? Was he really just upset about being blamed for Paul? I couldn’t get a read on him.
He sat on the coffee table and gazed at Madame Rousseau for a time. He tapped his foot, clapped his hands on his thighs, then got up again, and walked over to Tara. He went down on one knee before her, and raised her chin with his forefinger so he could stare into her eyes.
“You look like your mother. Well, like she looked when she seduced me, anyway. Your eyes are brimming with anger, my dear. Surely you know I would never hurt you. You’re my blood. Simon says you can reply.”
“My parents are dead,” Tara said.
“Your mother is sitting right over there,” Simon said, pointing at Madame Rousseau. “And she’s very much alive.”
“Don’t give me that. She was here the whole time I was growing up.”
“Had me fooled, too. Especially when she hugged herself every time we came to visit.” When he said we he pointed at her and himself. “Only it wasn’t you I was with because I was with my Landy, only she looked exactly like you. And I mean right down to the crinkles at the eyes.”
“You’re not my father.”
Papa Simon gave her a shrug and grinned. “Not on paper. On paper, Grady Rousseau was your father. But ol’ Grady, he was firing blanks. He couldn’t father a child if he tried. And looking at you makes me remember how Islande used to look, and oh baby was she something.”
I wanted to interrupt, but I didn’t want to give up my advantage. He wasn’t threatening anyone, so I hoped he’d clear up my confusion.
“Mom and Mama are different people, you moron,” Tara said.
“Mom and Mama are one person,” Simon said.
“You’re deranged,” Tara said.
“Oh, my dear little Taraji, you are so lost, and the truth is a shell you wear like a Halloween costume.”
“My name is Tara, and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Simon says be quiet.”
Tara grimaced, but couldn’t speak.
Simon pushed himself to his feet, and walked back over to Madame Rousseau. “You’re an evil woman, Landy, but I can’t help but love you. I wish that wasn’t true, but what can you do? A heart wants what it wants. Just stop spreading lies about me. And call me. I get lonely without you. Okay, Simon says none of the people in this room can ever hurt me. And Simon says you’re all free except from the command of not being able to hurt me.”
He snapped his fingers.
Madame Rousseau stood, and moved to slap him, but she missed.
“You had to try,” he said with a gold-toothed smile.
Kelly moved me aside, and flipped over the table to land behind Simon. She wrapped her arms around him, and then just stood there.
“Dammit,” she said.
“You had to try, too,” Simon said. He pried Kelly’s hands off him, turned, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “No hard feelings, pretty lady.”
“I’ll break your nose if you try kissing me again.”
He smiled, patted her cheek, and said, “While I may wish I could be free of my dear sweet Landy, I have eyes for only her. I prefer the form I first met her in, but even as an old woman, she brings a pitter-patter to my heart.”
“Where’s Esther?” I asked.
“Who’s Esther?” Simon asked.
“A ghost.”
“Oh, her. Simon says the ghost is free,” he said. “And now I bid you adieu. I have a lot of thinking to do, and I can’t think straight with the vision of my Landy.”
“Get out of my house, John,” Madame Rousseau said. “And don’t you ever come back.”
“You can reset your wards when I’m gone, my love. I can’t promise I won’t be back, though. I’m still incredibly peeved, but my love for you seems to have no limits.”
With that, he walked out the door.
A moment later, Esther popped into the house.
“Where is he?” Esther asked. “I ought to sock that sheik right in the kisser.”
“He just walked out the door,” Kelly said.
Esther popped away for a moment, then returned. “Looks like I scared him off.”
“Indeed,” Kelly said. She turned to me. “Jonathan, can you walk?”
“Not really,” I said.
“Then I’ll help you because this place is feeling a little too weird for me.”
Madame Rousseau and Tara wouldn’t look at each other. They also didn’t look at me, Kelly, or Esther.
“I know what you mean,” I said. “Help me up.”
Kelly grabbed my stuff, and pulled me to my feet.
“We’re going back to the hotel,” I said. “If something happens, you have my number.”
And we got the hell out of there.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Reginald greeted me when Kelly helped me into the hotel.
“Oh my,” Reginald said. “You’re not looking as chipper as usual. Are you…?” His eyes shifted to Esther, and his concern for me vanished. “Who is this fetching young woman before my eyes?”
Esther smiled at him. “I’m Esther.”
“It’s been more than a hundred and fifty years since I was able to have a conversation with a woman of class and intelligence.”
Esther touched her short hair and looked a question at me.
“Esther,” I said, “this is Reginald, one of the resident ghosts. Reginald, Esther is my friend, and she has more mobility than most people of the spiritual persuasion.”
“Indeed,” Reginald said. “My dear, I would love to have a conversation with you.”
Esther looked at me.
Reginald put a hand on his chest. “I’m too long dead to make any unwanted advances. I just want to talk. It would so brighten my soul.”
“I’m just going to rest,” I said.
“Should I check your room for torpedoes?”
“I think Kelly can handle any trouble.”
“Is this guy on the level?” Esther asked.
“He is. As long as you’re not talking about the floor” I added, pointing at the place where his legs disappeared into the carpet.
“Then I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you so much,” Reginald said. “We can sit over here.” He led her away from us to the chairs where we’d spoken a few nights before.
Veronica sat at the front desk flipping through a magazine. She looked up, but we weren’t covered in blood this time, so she went back to reading.
Kelly helped me to the elevator. “You trying to get Esther hooked up with a ghost?” she asked as the doors closed.
“Reginald is a nice enough guy, but he’s way too old for Esther. He’s just really lonely, but then that’s true of most ghosts.”
“It’s true of most people,” Kelly said.
The elevator dinged on the fourteenth floor
. When the doors opened, Kelly helped me out. A table with a fake plant stood against the wall beneath a large mirror. Kelly scooted the plant over.
“Sit here,” she said. “I’ll check the room.”
I dug in my pocket and pulled out the key. “This might help.”
She took the key, gave me a nod, and went down the hall to the room.
There was a note of concern in her eyes, but I didn’t think she needed to worry. I was tired, but I felt better now than I had at Madame Rousseau’s place. The Uber ride over had been uneventful, though the driver wanted to talk about his wife’s obsession with bonsai trees. Kelly had watched me carefully all the way back to the hotel.
“All clear,” Kelly said when she returned.
I pushed myself to my feet and tried to walk, but I had to balance myself with the wall.
“Lean on me,” Kelly said. “I’ll order some food from room service. You need to get your strength back.”
“The world is spinning a bit,” I said, hating to admit it.
“Almost there.”
Inside the room, Kelly helped me to a chair.
“You still don’t smell good,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“You need a shower.”
“It would be nice to be rid of the perfume,” I said, but then I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I can’t stand that long.”
“I’ll help you,” she said. She went into the bathroom, and turned on the water. Checked the temperature with her hand.
“I’m sleepy,” I said.
“You can sleep in a bit. Get out of those clothes.”
From her tone of voice, I knew better than to argue. As I struggled to get undressed, she stripped, too.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen her naked since about twelve years after Reginald died. And that was technically a different Kelly. Looking at her, I remembered the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin on mine.
“Don’t stare,” Kelly said.
I’m a visual guy, and well, I had a reaction to seeing her nude, and to the memories of making love with her.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to cover up.
She grinned. “I’d be more offended if nothing happened.”
She helped me into the shower, and held me up as she rinsed me off.
The hot water felt good on my skin, and as Kelly soaped my back, I felt the toxins slide off of me, and go down the drain.
“Turn around,” Kelly said.
I did as she said.
She soaped my chest, and worked her way down, carefully avoiding my erection.
She helped me rinse off, then held me up with one hand, while soaping herself with the other. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on me. Part of me wished I wasn’t so weak because I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her. To taste her lips again.
We’d had a short-lived relationship in ancient Egypt, and continued it in San Francisco back in 1877. And once again, I felt the pain of watching her die. I hadn’t thought about that in years.
I pulled away from her, and fell against the wall of the shower. Steam rose around us, and the water splashing on me hid the tears that streamed from my eyes.
Strange how long-buried memories can resurface with an image or a smell. Music brought back memories better than anything, but I wasn’t likely to hear the songs of Egypt or the sounds of the Barbary Coast in everyday life.
But the image of soap bubbles streaming down her skin, and the smell of her breath, and the touch of her hands brought everything back. I’d lived through so much, and lost more than I cared to recall. This wasn’t my Kelly, but she was still Kelly.
We were good together. We belonged together.
And then I thought of Esther.
But Esther wasn’t in love with the real me. She’d actually fallen for the Jonathan Shade who died in the 1920s. Only in her original time, he hadn’t died. He’d left her. And she’d killed herself to try to rejoin him in the future, only she met me because time is so messed up. It hurt my brain just thinking about it. Hurting me was fine.
I didn’t want to hurt Esther.
I didn’t want to hurt anyone else either.
And why the hell was all of this slamming into me now?
“Are you all right?” Kelly asked.
“No,” I said.
She pulled me into her arms and held me, water cascading off of us. She swayed back and forth, just holding me. She whispered in my ear, but most of it was lost in the sound of the shower. Her fingers caressed my neck.
Only now, I wasn’t feeling anything other than sorrow even though I could feel her breasts pressed against me, and the prickle of her pubic hair on my skin.
“You’re all right,” she said a little louder. “You’re safe with me.”
She kissed my cheek, and it wasn’t the kiss of a lover. That Kelly was long dead. This Kelly loved me as a friend. There wasn’t any romance involved, and I knew that while she had forgiven me for taking her Jonathan, she hadn’t forgotten, and that was a stone that even Sisyphus couldn’t push up the mountain.
A deep loneliness permeated my soul, and there was no cure in the world for what ailed me.
In spite of that, having her hold me felt better than anything I’d experienced in more than a lifetime, and while I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere, I couldn’t let go. I greedily held onto her until the water turned cold.
Only then did she break from me to turn off the shower.
We didn’t speak as she handed me a towel. I had enough strength to dry myself to some extent.
Once she’d dried off, she wrapped the towel around herself, and helped me finish getting dry. Then she wrapped my towel around my waist, and tucked it in.
She led me out of the bathroom and to the bed.
Part of me hoped she wanted things to go further, but she sat me down, and picked up the room service menu.
I let myself fall back on the bed, and I closed my eyes. Life was full of small disappointments, and those I could handle. This felt deeper, and I knew it wasn’t the result of the poison. No, that simply put me in a place where I had to face the reality I’d been avoiding for far too long.
I would never be Kelly’s Jonathan. Consciously, I’d known that all along, but somewhere deep in my mind, I realized that I’d kept a candle burning in hopes that one day things would change.
Kelly cared, sure. She would protect me. She would even give her life to save me.
But she would never give me her heart.
As that knowledge settled into my soul, part of me died.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Food and sleep made a big difference in how I felt. The next morning, while still a bit weak, at least I could get up, use the restroom, take a shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and only then did I have to sit down to rest.
While Kelly showered, Esther told me Reginald was a nice old man, and that she’d enjoyed their conversation, and looked forward to talking to him again.
“I’m glad,” I said.
When Kelly exited the restroom, she walked up to me, and pulled my shirt down over my shoulder to look at the swelling.
“Looks a lot better,” she said, and let go of my collar.
I straightened my shirt. “Still hurts, but nothing like before.”
“I’m glad,” she said, and I wondered if she’d heard me say the same thing to Esther, or if maybe we were all just glad about things today without really feeling all that happy about anything.
“Did I miss something?” Esther asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Things don’t seem all berries between you two.” She pointed at me and Kelly.
“We’re fine,” Kelly said.
“Definitely not all berries.”
“It’s nothing,” Kelly said.
“Everything’s cool,” I said.
Esther frowned. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Kelly said.
“She’s telling the tr
uth,” I said. “Nothing happened. I’m still whooped, but I really don’t want to sleep right now.”
“You’re not in any condition to work the case, whatever the hell the case is right now.”
We hadn’t talked at all about what had gone down with Papa Simon. As it would distract from how I felt, and because I had no clue what Kelly was feeling, that seemed like the best and safest subject.
“Maybe we should look into John Simon,” I said.
“I want to kill him,” Kelly said.
“You want to kill everyone.”
“Not everyone.”
Esther looked at me with suspicion, but fell in line with our attempt at normalcy. “He’s a flat tire at best.”
“What was he saying about Mama Rousseau?” Kelly asked.
I shook my head. “It didn’t make a lot of sense. I’m guessing Tara looks like what Madame Rousseau used to look like, and evidently it wasn’t that long ago.”
“So she’s Tara’s mom?”
“Yeah, I know, it gets a little Lonzo and Oscar, doesn’t it?”
Kelly frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
“They sang ‘I’m My Own Grandpa,’” I said, and tried to sing the song, but I couldn’t remember enough of the lyrics to make much sense, so I stuck to the chorus.
“You’re a dork,” Kelly said.
And things finally felt a little more normal. Hum a few bars and fake it. I grinned.
Esther stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“It was after your time, Esther,” I said.
“Are you ossified?”
“No.”
“Break it down for me,” Kelly said.
“Papa Simon and Madame Rousseau did the nasty a few times and popped out Emmanuel and Tara.”
“While she was married to Grady?”
“Little thing called having an affair,” I said. “It’s not that complicated.”
“I guess I had that coming,” Kelly said. “But back to what matters. She looked like Tara at the time? How? Illusion?”
“I have no idea.”
Kelly pulled my laptop out of its bag and handed it to me. “Do your detecting thing then. I want to get some air. I’ll bring back breakfast.”