“It’s just a rental. Something to get around while I’m here. Seriously, I’ve got to take you for a ride in it.”
“A Miata.” She stepped right up to me, and looked down. She had to be four, maybe six inches taller than me. “Think I’d fit?” she giggled.
I shot her a cheesy grin. “Well, if not, we can strap you to the luggage rack on the trunk.”
She snorted and we both flopped onto the lounge chairs.
“So how’d you make out at the casino with your dad? He seems like a pretty nice guy, by the way.” I took a long pull at my beer and my eyes opened wider. This was some strong stuff! Way heavier tasting than what I had back home. I glanced at the bottle.
“He is. But then again, I’m kind of biased. He was only down a few bucks when we left, which is a banner night in my books.” She drank slowly and then wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
“Oh yeah? Maybe the next time, I’ll join you. I could be your lucky charm.” With how fast my talents have been growing under GM’s tutelage, I’d probably be ready for the poker table before long.
“Yeah, sure.” She took another pull on her beer and looked at me silently for a couple of seconds, like she was deliberating on something and then she spoke. “You know... in all the time I’ve been doing my job with the mail, I’ve only seen your grandmother and Lawrence a few times. They sure are loners. The only time I’ve seen a visitor there—is some woman who comes up every so often. She answered the door once, when I left a parcel.”
“Did she have blond hair, about my height?”
“Yeah, come to think of it she did.”
“That was my mother.”
“How come you never visited with her before this?” Gwen cupped her beer in two hands, her thumbnail toying with the label.
“I was busy with school, I guess.” But seeing the look of disbelief in her eyes, I knew how weak that sounded. “Actually, to be honest, I never knew she even existed until recently.”
“That’s odd. Why would your mother keep that from you? I knew my grandparents for just a short while before they passed on, but even so I still remember them fondly.”
I looked down at the edge of the pool for a few seconds. There wasn’t much I could add which wouldn’t give away the family secrets. I decided to steer away from this subject. “How about your mom? When did she pass away?”
Gwen’s gaze fell. “Eight years ago. A brain tumor.” A smile flitted across her face. “I swear there are times when I can feel her presence.” She looked at me with a strange expression.
“Oh? How so?”
“This sounds crazy. But it’s happened a few times. I’d be mooning around the house thinking of her, missing her like mad, and then her favorite song would come on the radio.”
I shrugged. “Just coincidence, maybe?”
Gwen scoffed. “Yeah, I thought so the first time. I mean, I was trained as a scientist, right? But when it happened again, I started wondering.”
“Go on...” She was onto something and now I was curious.
Gwen looked aside for a moment, and stared off. “It happens twice a year. On July fourteenth at ten thirty a.m., and October twelfth at three forty-five in the afternoon.”
“You sound pretty sure about those days and times.”
She nodded. “Those dates and times are when I miss her the most.” She turned her head back to me. “My mother was born on July fourteenth at ten thirty in the morning.” She held my eyes, and continued. “And she died at three forty-five in the afternoon on October twelfth.”
“Whoaaaa.”
“Yeah, ‘Whoaaa’. And it’s the same song each time. “Snowbird” by Ann Murray.” Gwen held my eyes. “Yeah, so my house is haunted—just like your grandmother’s.”
I blinked a couple of times. “What?”
“Since I was a kid, your grandmother’s house has had a reputation for being haunted.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “When I was growing up, kids would dare each other to go there on Halloween. We all thought it was haunted.”
I picked at the label on the dark bottle for a beat or two. How much could I tell her without her thinking I was part of the Addam’s Family? I looked over at her. “I can see that. I mean, it’s old and kind of creepy looking, even though it’s kind of a mansion. But I’m not sure it’s all that scary when you live there.” Vague, but at least I didn’t out and out lie.
“What’s really going on over at that house, Keira?”
I put my bottle on the table between us and sighed. GM was right about staying away from the locals. “Okay, I get it now. You’re trying to pump me for gossip.” I started to get up.
“Hey! No! Wait!” Gwen held out her hands. “Do you think I’ve ever told anyone about my mother’s song on the radio? I’m not looking for gossip, Keira!”
I kept my voice level. “Then what are you looking for?”
She sighed. “Data.” She looked away, then back at me. “No. Not data. Information.”
“Oh! I see! You need a ghost story! Okay!” Before she could stop me I said, “How about this one?” I waggled my eyebrows at her like a circus clown smoking crack. “Well... I’ve run into two ghosts, in my room. The first one, Molly—she’s a clean freak picking up after me—and the second one is a little boy, Sam. He thinks his mother is coming to get him. He also likes playing with my camera. So far, that’s about it!” I smiled brightly. Well, truth’s stranger than fiction, right?
Gwen ran her hand over her head. “You know something? I think you just told me the truth, you know that? You’re trying to make it sound like a bullshit story, but it’s not, is it?”
I kept my mouth closed, watching the wheels turn behind her eyes.
She nodded. “Yep. You just told me the truth. Molly and Sam really happened.” She nodded briskly. “I knew it.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because of the light I saw one night at your grandmother’s house, and because of the rose.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“One night, not very long ago actually, I was taking Buster out for a walk. And when I went past your grandmother’s home, I saw an incredible light shining out of the front windows. I never saw anything like it in my life. It was as bright as the sun; as if they were filming a movie inside there or something.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “But it was different than light you see... it... I don’t know how to describe it, it was purer or something.”
I kept silent.
“Now I only saw that the one time.” She held up her finger. “But. There’s something very, very strange about your grandmother’s garden.”
“Oh?” God this girl was good. “What about her garden?”
“Her front yard has a little wall circling a bed of flowers. I’ve seen her tending the roses there.” She looked off over to the end of the yard where a small garden shed stood.
“Yeah. Like I said, she loves her roses. What’s weird about that?”
“There’s one rose that blooms in the winter. Surrounded by a foot of snow but that rose still blooms.”
I adjusted the strap of my bathing suit and cleared my throat. Anything to buy time before I answered. What could I say? There was no wiggling out of this one. “I don’t know about that. Sure, I’ve seen the rose you’re talking about but...” I shrugged my shoulders, kind of wishing I’d listened to my grandmother and canceled this visit.
She continued, “At first I thought it was a silk rose but one day I got out of my truck and felt it; it was definitely real.” Her dark eyes examined me like a bug under a microscope.
Time to give it up. She had me. I blew out a puff of air. “Yeah, it’s real. What can I say? It’s a strange house. I don’t know why the rose blooms in winter but I’ve no doubt you’ve seen it.” I grinned at her. “You haven’t lied to me before.”
She laughed. “Not that you know of.”
I grinned at her like a wolf. “Wanna bet? Take my hand and I’ll
know.” I thrust my hand out and grinned watching the puzzled smile on her face. I had never touched Gwen before, and was curious to see what I was going to come up with.
“Okaaaay?” She took my hand in hers and gave it a little shake. When she looked back up into my eyes she gasped.
The weirdest feeling came over me. I had just met her and now I knew—no, I felt—everything about her. It came in a rolling cascade: her resentment of her older brother while growing up, the worry and then pain of losing her mother, her genuine concern and love for her dad. It ended with a flash of her in safety goggles, her hands clutching a piece of green glass.
I pulled my hand back and deliberated for all of one second on whether to freak her out. “You do stained glass?”
Her jaw fell, staring at me. “I just started! I’ve taken some classes and now I’m working on a window hanging! How did you know?”
I fluttered my fingers in front of my face and in my most dramatic voice, “Madam Keira knows all.” Her eyes were as big as golf balls peering at me. It was too much. I burst out laughing.
She leaned closer peering at me. “Your eyes when you took my hand... they changed. They got all kind of glassy...no, they glittered. Seriously. That was weird. Your eyes got strange!”
I shrugged and looked off into the distance. It was still unsettling how quickly all that had happened. Whatever talents I had were coming to the surface faster and faster.
Gwen reached for my hand again. “Tell me more. Do it again. I mean how’d you do that? Are you some kind of—”
“No. Look it’s been a day.” When I saw the disappointment in her eyes, my tone grew softer. “I need you to drop it... for now. I’ll explain at some point but, right now, let’s just talk about something else.” That same feeling of exhaustion I felt after transitioning Molly and Sam flowed over me again. I was beat.
She nodded. “Okay... but I’m going to hold you to that, you know. Talk about your Stephen King moment...”
“Does it frighten you?” I looked down at my fingers knotted together. I hoped it didn’t scare her.
“What? No! You kidding? It’s fascinating!”
“Really? It doesn’t scare you?”
She shook her head. “I’m as surprised as you are. I love reading spooky stuff and watching scary movies. But this is... real.” She shrugged. “I have a scientific background, and a phenomenon like this is extraordinary! I’m more excited and curious than scared, Keira.”
I lifted my head and looked at her again. When our eyes met, a flash of the two of us burst in my mind. We were older, in our thirties, waiting for a plane at an airport, We stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching planes taxi off the tarmac. We were on our way somewhere, together. I gasped.
“Your eyes... for a moment there, they changed again, Keira.”
I bet they did. I slowly got to my feet. “I’m not up for swimming today, Gwen. I need to go home.”
“Is everything okay?” She jumped to her feet. “Are you okay?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.” I felt a little lightheaded though. That was the first time I glimpsed the future. “I’d like you to come to my house tomorrow for lunch or dinner.”
She brightened. “Okay. I’d like that too.”
“I want GM to meet you.”
EIGHTEEN
GWEN’S EYES SCRUNCHED. “WHO’S GM?”
I smirked. “That’s what I call my grandmother.”
“Not Granny? Not Nana?”
I held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Not yet.” That was going to change soon, I’m sure. But just not yet. “You’ll be able to come though, right?”
“Yeah, sure; it’s just down the road, Keira.”
“Good. I’ll need your phone number before I leave.” I turned to head back inside.”
“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off? It’s no big deal.”
“No... I need the walk to clear my head.” She grasped my arm in a way I had seen Lawrence hold GM. I didn’t get any flashes or anything, but I was happy for the support. “I’ll just throw my clothes on and head home.”
“Okay, Keira.” We headed inside together.
***
Coming out of the bathroom after changing, the dog was in the hallway. He looked up at me and his ears drooped down before he turned, skulking into the bedroom. I sighed and continued on.
Gwen stood next to her father with her hand on his shoulder. She turned from watching the television and smiled. “All set?”
“Yup. Thanks for the beer. We’ll get in a swim next time.” I moved over to her father. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Jones.”
He looked up with a smile. “It’s Devon. And don’t make yourself scarce, y’hear? My daughter doesn’t have enough good friends.”
I bent to shake his hand and once more, loneliness emanated into my gut. “I’ll be back, don’t worry about that. You’ll probably get sick of seeing me.” I glanced at the framed photo on the table next to him. It showed a young woman in a nurse’s uniform holding a bunch of roses. From the set of her wide eyes and cheekbones, it was obviously Gwen’s mother. The resemblance was too great for it not to be and the photo was old. Nurses didn’t wear those caps anymore.
When I straightened and looked past him, a grayish mist was in the corner of the room. My breath caught in my throat. The shape became clearer, a woman in a light dress, staring back at me. It was Gwen’s mother. I glanced at Gwen and her dad but they were smiling at me, totally oblivious to the fact the ghost was there.
Despite what I’d done earlier that day, helping Molly and Sam transition, there was no way I was going to mess with this one. It might not fit into GM’s world view, maintaining order and The Veil, but it worked for this family.
“Okay. I’m off.” I smiled at Gwen, I’ll call you about a time for us to get together once I’ve run it by GM.”
She laughed. “GM? How does she like you calling her that?”
“She’s fine with it. When you meet her, you’ll see. It suits her.” I couldn’t help grinning as I pictured my grandmother.
“I think I’ll stick with Mrs. York, if it’s all the same to you.” She followed me to the door and stood on the veranda as I walked down the lane.
I turned and my hand rose to mimic a phone call. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”
I couldn’t wait to tell GM all about my visit!
NINETEEN
“WELL DONE, KEIRA!” GM lifted her glass and then took a long swallow as we sat in the living room before dinner.
I had just finished telling her about seeing the ghost of Gwen’s mother, and my impressions when I’d shook hands with Gwen’s dad. But I was leaving the best until last. My hands tensed for a moment on the glass I was holding as I looked over at her. “I think I might have found my Lawrence.”
She paused, her hand in midair before setting her glass on the table in front of her. “What?”
I relayed the vision I’d had of the two of us at an airport sometime in the future. I couldn’t get the words out fast enough and I popped to my feet, pacing the floor in front of her. “I invited her over so you and Lawrence can meet her! I want to get your impressions. But I’m pretty sure, I’m right!”
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 41