by Terri Reid
Stanley shook his head. “And what about Eddie?” he asked.
“Since Bradley already knows about him, we can leave him alone,” she said. “Besides, I think your two are risky enough.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stanley said with a sigh. Then he nodded. “Iffen he catches us,” he shrugged his head in Bradley’s direction, “you remember. This wasn’t my idea.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Once the pizza was eaten, Stanley, Rosie and Margo didn’t stay very long. Mary suspected it was because they were afraid they would let something slip in front of Bradley. As it was, Mary was having a hard time not telling him what they were planning. But, if they got caught and he knew about it, Mary reasoned, it would cause trouble at the police station. And the fact that if he knew he would tell her not to do it—well, she didn’t even want to go there.
“So, did you solve their issues?” Bradley asked as they tidied the kitchen.
Mary smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think so,” she replied. “Aren’t they just cute together?” She asked, trying to change the subject.
He paused, the dishtowel in one hand, and studied her. “You wouldn’t be trying to avoid my questions, would you?”
Several replies ran through Mary’s mind. “Why yes, dear, I am.” “No. Of course not.” “How about those Bears?” “Look! It’s a distraction!”
But, she was saved from uttering a word by the ringing of Bradley’s cell phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered. “Hi,” he said with a smile. “We were just finishing up in the kitchen and were going to call you.”
He mouthed “the Brennans” to Mary.
“Yes, we’ll be right over,” he said. He hung up the phone and put it away. “Ready to head over?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, I am so excited to see Clarissa,” she said. “But then, when we get home, let’s take some time with the yearbook. I would really like to get the extra company out of our house so we can get our little girl back home.”
Bradley nodded. “Yes, good idea,” he said. “It’s a little too quiet in this house without the pitter patter of little feet.”
She laughed. “Or the laughing and shouting of not-so-tiny lungs,” she added.
“Agreed,” he laughed. “Ready to go?”
“Ready!”
They spent the evening with the Brennans, playing board games and listening to Clarissa’s adventures at school. By eight o’clock Clarissa and Maggie were both yawning widely and having a hard time keeping their eyes open.
“I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Mary said, pulling Clarissa into her arms and hugging her. “I love you so much.”
Clarissa snuggled against her. “I love you, too,” she said. “I’m having fun here at the Brennans, but when can I come home?”
Mary sighed. “We’re working on it, sweetheart,” she said. “And I think we got a really good lead today. Your dad and I are going to work on it some more tonight.”
“Okay,” Clarissa replied, yawning again. “And then Maggie can stay at our house.”
Mary chuckled. “Yes, she can,” she said.
While Clarissa said goodnight to her father, Katie walked over to Mary. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m feeling good,” she said. “I just wish we could get rid of the poltergeist. Last night I got a milk bath, courtesy of our unwanted visitor.”
“Oh, Mary, that sounds both frightening and messy.”
Mary laughed. “And cold,” Mary added. “It was right out of the refrigerator cold.”
“What an evil ghost,” Katie said. “The least she could have done was warm it up a little.”
Mary chuckled. “Actually, she’s not evil,” she said. “Just hurt and confused. I think we may have the lead we need to move her on.”
“Well, I certainly hope so,” Katie said. “You and Bradley need your home back.”
“Yes we do,” Mary agreed. “And we need it back soon.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
The house was quiet when they arrived home a little later that night. Mary went into the kitchen to put the kettle on to make tea while Bradley started a fire in the fireplace. Once she filled the kettle with water and placed it on the burner, she turned to go to the cupboard and found herself face to face with the poltergeist.
Mary gasped as she looked into eyes that were blazing with anger, and the ghost smiled at her fear. “You should be afraid,” she hissed. “You don’t belong here with him.”
Taking a calming breath, Mary stopped herself from backing away. “I’m not your enemy, Julie,” Mary said firmly. “I want to help you.”
The ghost’s eyes widened at the mention of her name. “What did you call me?” she hissed.
“Julie. Julie Scott,” Mary said. “You’re a sophomore at Sycamore High School.”
This time, the ghost stepped back and stared at Mary in surprise. “No one has called me that in a long time,” she whispered.
“I want to—” Mary began.
“No!” Julie screamed. “No! Don’t try to trick me.”
Bradley ran into the kitchen. “Mary,” he called, his heart dropping when he saw the ghost threatening her. But she quickly glanced toward him and shook her head. She didn’t want him to interfere, not yet. Taking a step back, he waited, ready to jump in at a second’s notice.
Mary turned back to Julie. “I’m not—” Mary tried again.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” Julie cried. She turned to look at Bradley. “You were supposed to love me.”
“Julie,” Bradley began.
“That’s all I wanted,” she cried, translucent tears slipping down her cheeks. “All I wanted.”
She faded away before either of them could say anything else. Mary turned to Bradley and shook her head. “She’s so sad,” she whispered.
“Do you think she’s gone for good?” Bradley asked, hurrying to her side and pulling her into his arms.
“I don’t think so,” Mary said, looking up at him. “I hope not.”
Bradley looked surprised. “What? You hope not?”
“Her problem isn’t resolved,” she explained. “She still hasn’t crossed over.”
He nodded and hugged her. “I just want you to be safe,” he said. “Helping Julie is important, but not as important as your safety.”
She laid her head on his chest and sighed. She knew helping Julie cross over was her job, not Bradley’s, and protecting her and their family was his. She wouldn’t argue, wouldn’t explain how important it was for her to do what she did. All she would do is accept his protection, his concern and his love. “I love you,” she said softly.
He laid his cheek on the top of her head and held her tighter. “I adore you,” he replied. “You are my world.”
They stayed together until the screaming of the kettle made them pull apart.
She smiled up at him. “Tea or hot chocolate?” she asked.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Tea would be perfect,” he said. “Something calming.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay, you check on the fireplace, and I’ll be in there in a few minutes,” she said.
She busied herself making the tea and then carried the mugs out to the coffee table in front of the couch. The fire was crackling, and the room was already warm and cozy. “Okay, this is perfect,” she said, curling up in the corner of the couch with her mug in her hands.
Bradley sat next to her and nodded. “Yeah, this is nice,” he said. He opened the yearbook up and started flipping through the pages. To Mary’s amazement, Bradley’s father’s photo was featured on almost every other page in the book.
“Good grief,” she said. “Your dad was like superman.”
Bradley nodded, but he didn’t smile. “Yeah, you’re right. He was.”
She put her hand over his to stop him from turning to the next page. “Tell me,” she said.
He shook his head and shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he said. But she kept her
hand over his.
“It’s something,” she said. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m looking at these pictures of a man I didn’t know. I didn’t get to know.”
“I don’t understand,” Mary said.
Bradley leaned back and looked up to the ceiling for a moment. Then he turned and looked at her. “When I watch you with your family, the love you share, the support you give each other,” he said softly, shaking his head, “I don’t know if you realize how lucky you are.”
He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I didn’t really get to know my dad very well,” he said. “I think part of it was because I wasn’t the son he wanted.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mary said, defending Bradley from his father. “You’re amazing.”
He reached over and kissed her head. “Thank you,” he said. “You are my staunchest defender. But, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t abusive. I just felt like I never quite lived up to the Alden legacy. I was an ordinary student, not the valedictorian. I was a team player, not the star. I was on the swim team, not the football team. And then he and Mom died in a car accident when I was a senior, so I kind of always felt I never got the chance to prove him wrong.”
Mary shook her head. “No, he would have been proud of the man you became,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”
Bradley sighed. “Well, that’s nice of you,” he said. “But I’m not as sure as you. And, you know, that’s okay. I’m okay. I’ve got you and Clarissa and soon little Mikey. I’ve got so much to be grateful for, and I know it. Just, right now, you know…”
“It’s tough?” Mary asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s a little tough,” he said.
Mary moved her hand and closed the yearbook. “Come on,” she said, putting her mug down, taking his hand and standing up.
“What?” he asked.
She smiled down at him. “I want you to take me upstairs,” she said. “And dance with me.”
“Dance with you?” he asked, surprised. “But I thought, you know, Julie…”
“I don’t think she’s coming back tonight,” Mary said. “Besides, she’s interested in your dad. I want the pick-of-the-litter, as Mrs. Penfield said.”
Bradley stood up, and Mary led him to the stairs. She climbed up two stairs so they were at eye level with each other, turned, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. When the kiss ended, she was slightly breathless. “Will you dance with me?” she whispered breathlessly.
He cradled her cheeks in his hands, stepped onto the first step and lowered his face to hers. “Try and stop me,” he replied, crushing her lips beneath his own.
Chapter Thirty-eight
“Hello, Rosie,” Mary said into the hands-free phone device in her car when Rosie answered it. “This is Mary.”
“Mary, it’s only seven o’clock,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, Rosie,” Mary replied. “Nothing’s wrong. I had to drive to Sycamore this morning, and I wanted to let you know. I think I can make it back by noon, but if Stanley could arrange a later lunch with Butch, that would be great.”
“I’m sure he can,” Rosie assured her. “Last night, when we stopped by, Stanley left the timing kind of loose because he wanted to check with you.”
“Tell Stanley I think he’s brilliant,” Mary said.
Rosie laughed. “I don’t know if I will,” she teased. “He might get too big of a head with those kinds of compliments.” Rosie paused for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Fine,” Mary said. “I just needed to meet with someone this morning, that’s all.”
“Okay, well, just let us know when you’re on your way back,” she said. “And then we’ll set things up.”
“Thank you,” Mary said. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”
She disconnected with Rosie and slowed down as she got closer to her destination. After her conversation with Bradley, she was hoping to get a little more help in solving this problem. She woke early in the morning knowing what she needed to do.
“I can’t believe you’re up, dressed and driving this early in the morning,” Mike said as he appeared in the passenger seat next to her.
“Believe it,” she said, proud of herself for not jumping when he appeared.
He leaned back in the seat. “So, where are we going?” he asked.
“To a cemetery,” she replied. “I thought it would be an interesting change if I went to the spirits instead of the spirits always having to come to me.”
“Ha ha,” Mike replied and watched as they turned into the Sycamore Cemetery. “So, how many people do you think are dead in there?”
Mary rolled her eyes and turned to him. “All of them,” she said. “That is such a dad joke.”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
She drove onto the paved road that led to the different sections of the cemetery.
“Turn left up here,” Mike instructed.
Mary shot him a quick look. “How do you know…”
He smiled at her. “Because that’s where I’d be going if I were you,” he said gently. “Pull over there and park.”
She did as he suggested, turned off the car, and in the early morning fog walked down a narrow path to a bench placed in front of a group of graves. She sat down and looked at the gravestone in front of her. “Jeannine Alden”
“Hi,” she said. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I thought I’d give it a try. You knew Bradley back in high school. You knew his dad. And I was hoping you could help me with a problem we’ve got.”
She related the story about Julie and what had happened in their home. “I want to help her,” she finally said. “But I’m not sure I know how.”
Suddenly Mary felt warmth coming from beside her. She turned to find Jeannine’s spirit sitting next to her.
“Hi,” Mary said. “Sorry I haven’t come before.”
Jeannine shook her head. “You know as well as I do that I’m not in that grave,” she said. “But I do visit when family come to pay their respects. It’s nice to catch up.”
She studied Mary for a moment. “A baby?” she asked, her eyes filled with delight.
Mary put her hands on her abdomen and nodded. “A boy,” she replied. “We’re naming him Michael.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said.
“Clarissa is happy,” Mary said. “She is such a joy.”
Jeannine nodded. “I know,” she said. “I love watching over her. You’re doing a wonderful job.”
“I’m trying, sometimes failing,” she admitted. “But I love her.”
“I know you do,” Jeannine said. “And she loves you. That makes me feel wonderful.”
Mary looked at the gravestone for a moment and then turned back to the spirit. “It doesn’t make you upset?” she asked.
“No. I’m only happy that my little girl has a mother who loves her,” Jeannine said. “I’m grateful to you.”
Mary shook her head. “I’m grateful to you for sharing her with me,” she said.
Jeannine laughed. “Well, it’s nice that we have a mutual admiration society,” she said. “But my time with you is short, so let’s talk about your problem. When Bradley moved in, did he bring a big, wooden, locker box?”
Mary nodded. “Yes, it’s down in the basement.”
“Excellent,” she said. “It’s got some of his dad’s things from high school. I think it even has his dad’s old letterman sweater. Now this is what I think you ought to do…”
She leaned over and whispered into Mary’s ear. Mary listened intently, nodding occasionally, and finally laughed. “I think it will work,” Mary said. “Thank you.”
“Give Clarissa a hug from me,” Jeannine said as she started to fade away. “And be patient with yourself. You’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you,” Mary whispered as Jeannine disappeared.
She sat on the bench for another moment, l
etting Jeannine’s advice sink in.
“Did she help you?” Mike asked.
Mary nodded and then looked at him. “Did you pull some strings?” she asked.
He shrugged. “She wanted to help,” he said. “It wasn’t hard.”
“Thank you,” Mary said.
She stood up, but instead of walking back to the car, she walked over to the other gravestones in the same area. She stopped in front of the one bearing the name “Blake Alden” and studied it for a moment.
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” she said to the grave. “Especially since we’ve never met. But if what Bradley believes is correct, that somehow you felt that he didn’t live up to the Alden legacy, then you were sadly mistaken. Your son is one of the best men I’ve ever met in my life. He is honorable, brave and loyal. He loves with all his heart, and he protects the people he loves.” She stopped and sighed softly. “I just wanted to let you know.”
Turning, her shoes crunching on the gravel path, she walked back to her car in silence. She got into the car and sat there for a few moments, her hands on the steering wheels, staring out at the fog rolling over the grounds.
“Why?” she finally asked, whisking a tear from her cheek.
Mike appeared in the seat next to her. “Because when we’re alive we don’t always remember the important things like love and family,” he said. “We get caught up in temporary things we think are important. Who’s right. Who’s better. Who’s more important. Who makes more money.”
He turned away from her and looked out the window at the acres of headstones. “It’s not until we’re dead that we realize we spent a whole lot of our time on things that really didn’t matter in the long run.”
“That’s so sad,” Mary said, turning on her car and pulling out onto the driveway.
Mike nodded. “Yes it is,” he agreed with a sigh. “Yes it is.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
“Are you sure Melvin’s not going to be home?” Mary asked they pulled up in Stanley’s car in front of the apartment complex.