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by Dorothea Benton Frank


  Woody, back in his room, completely exhausted and over-wrought by the tumult of his feelings for Beth, pulled off his trousers and shirt, went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, hoping this time she was safely upstairs. When he returned to his room, the bed had been turned down and his duffel bag was parked neatly on the floor next to the chest of drawers. Maybe he had done these things himself, but for the life of him, he could not recall having done so. He shrugged it off to the late hour, his fatigue, and crawled in between the sheets, turning off his bedside lamp. It wasn’t long before Woody fell into a swirl of dreams.

  At some point during the night, Woody was partially roused from his sleep, and try as he might to sleep again, he could not. Eyes still closed, he turned over, feeling around with his foot for a cool place on the mattress, pulling the pillows around him to get comfortable again. He thought he heard someone breathing, someone who was in the room with him. The breathing was regular and he wondered if it was Beth. Given all the realities, he decided to remain still and see what happened. The breathing continued. The next thing he knew, the sun was coming up between the venetian blinds and no one was there. Carefully, he looked at the other side of the bed and he could tell the sheets were untouched, except by him. I probably dreamed it, he thought.

  Beth was in the kitchen making coffee when Woody saw her for the first time that day. She was wearing a casual sundress and was barefoot, which for some reason seemed wildly appealing to him. He was wearing khakis and a knit shirt, with Top-Siders and no socks.

  “Morning! You look nice!” she said. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Okay. You?”

  “Good. Thanks.”

  “Actually, I slept, but can I tell you something strange?”

  “Who me? I minored in strange. You can tell me anything.”

  “Well, I woke up in the middle of the night and I would swear on a stack of Bibles that someone was in the room with me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I could hear breathing.”

  “It could have been your own breathing.”

  “Maybe. But maybe not.”

  “Sometimes I snore…”

  “You snore?”

  “Only if I have a bad cold or something. But sometimes I wake myself up, it’s so loud.”

  “Really? Well, I’ll make a note of that. And, FYI, I don’t snore even when I have a cold.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. And here’s another thing, though somewhat less terrifying. When I went in to go to bed, my covers were turned down, like in a hotel? I mean, I swear on my unborn children, I didn’t do it.”

  “Woody? Honey? You probably didn’t. Same thing happened to me the first night I was here. Don’t worry. The ghosts are tame. If they like you, that is. Do you want milk in your coffee? I forget.”

  “Yeah, a splash is fine. Are you telling me you think this house is haunted?”

  “Absolutely no thinking required. Always was. Always will be. I even had the family priest take a crack at it.” She handed him a steaming mug. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

  “Thanks. A priest? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Nope. He squirted holy water all over the place and said a bunch of prayers. It’s been relatively quiet since then, except for the deal with Phoebe.”

  “And I thought it was some bull. So why do you think that happened?”

  “Because my grandmother didn’t like her kind and wanted her out of here.”

  Woody got the chills and rubbed his bare arms.

  “Good call. So why did this happen to me?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. But I’ll tell you what I think. I think they were giving you the once-over.”

  “They? The once-over?”

  “Yeah. They. I think they wanted to see who you were.”

  “Oh. Well, I hope I passed the test.”

  “You must have, or else…”

  “Or else what?”

  “They would’ve thrown your stuff all over the place.”

  Woody took a long drink of his coffee and then placed his mug on the table in front of him. Beth stood by the stove looking at him and Woody stared back at her. It was a solid minute before he spoke.

  “Beth?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you realize we’re talking about ghosts just like we could be discussing the weather?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little abnormal?”

  “Define normal.”

  “I don’t know. How about a serious conviction that we live in a three-dimensional world?”

  “Oh, Woody. Get over it. A little moo hoo ha ha adds to the charm of being here. Do you want toast?”

  “Nope, I’m good. I thought maybe I’d go down the island, buy a muffin or something, see if Max is around, you know, get my investigation under way early?”

  “Great idea! Want me to go with you?”

  “Nah. Let me nose around on my own first.”

  Woody put his mug in the sink and went toward the door to leave.

  “Woody?”

  He stopped and turned back to face her. “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t know you were a muffin man.” Beth was overcome with giggles.

  “I’ll deal with you later, ma’am.”

  He held the screen door until it closed so the loud thwack of it wouldn’t echo all over the neighborhood. To begin with, Woody just wasn’t a noisy guy and he saw no sense in banging and slamming his way through life. So when he came upon Max’s construction site and saw Max screaming into his cell phone, and heard all the deafening noise of the building in progress, it took him a few minutes to tune into it all.

  He walked over to Max, who brightened up considerably at the sight of Woody, and almost immediately Max finished his phone call and reached out to shake Woody’s hand.

  “Hey! You’re back!” Max said, like Woody was his long-lost brother. “What’s going on?”

  “Hey!” Woody said, and shook Max’s hand soundly. “I came back to see what’s going on with your deal and to see if there was still room for a couple of new investors.”

  Max could not believe his ears. A godsend! This was an incredible stroke of desperately needed luck! Just as quickly as he could, but with his usual well-honed aplomb, he steered Woody toward the trailer he had moved onto the property and set up as a temporary office.

  They talked and talked, and before long Max had Woody believing that they did indeed share the same DNA. The camaraderie between them boggled Woody’s mind; he was unaccustomed to making friends so easily. When they got to the delicate issue of how much was coming from whom, Woody held back, asking Max to explain the projected earnings and payout schedule one more time. Woody was finally satisfied.

  He said, “I’m in for twenty-five thousand. And I think Beth’s looking at a much higher number.”

  “Really?” Max said, hoping Woody could not read the massive relief in his face.

  They agreed to have dinner at Atlanticville, each for reasons of their own.

  “What time do you want to meet?” Woody asked.

  “How’s seven? That gives me a chance to go home and wash off the dust.”

  “Great, because I’m sure I will think of other questions to ask.”

  “Well, you make a list of them and I will try to answer them all as honestly as I can,” Max said.

  Atlanticville was a crazy house again that night, and Beth was like a chimney swift, never touching land, flitting from one place to another. Woody and Max were seated at a table near her podium, but she was so busy she seemed oblivious to them. However, their eyes never left her.

  “She’s a great girl,” Max said, taking a sip of his wine.

  “I think she’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met,” Woody said.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Max sat up straight. This was a dramatic sea change in the world of Max Mitchell. He wa
s no fool. He fully realized that the only reason he was going to gain thousands of dollars in his business account was because of Woody Morrison’s ability to make that happen.

  “This sounds serious,” Max said.

  “Yeah, well, I guess sooner or later I was going to ask you about, you know, how serious you are about her?”

  “Well, I think she’s a wonderful girl and obviously I have tremendous feelings for her.”

  “Are you in love with her? I mean, you know, like do you think there’s a future for y’all?”

  “That’s a tough question.”

  Max sat back in his chair and took a long look at Woody. Woody was so young and honest and his heart was just all over his sleeve. Max had been that way once; he remembered feeling that kind of heart-palpitating passion. But it had been a long time, and for now, and most important, he didn’t want a single thing to get in the way of finalizing this investment. Quite simply, he couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.

  “Well, either you do or you don’t, right?”

  “Yeah, but up until this very moment I did not know that you were in love with Beth. I mean, if we’re going to be partners we can’t be fighting over the same woman.”

  “So, what do you suggest?”

  “Well, Beth has some say-so in this, don’t you think? I mean, has she declared her feelings for you?”

  “No. Well, not in so many words. I know she cares about me and I know she likes me very much, but I think we all know she’s insane over you, Max. Look, I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”

  Max watched as Woody’s pain spread over his face. Max knew Beth was not in love with Woody but he saw no reason to humiliate him.

  “I don’t either. Look, while we are beginning a great partnership here, we are also developing a conflict of interest. And I’m going to be back and forth to North Carolina a lot in the near future. Why don’t you use that time to see what happens between you two?”

  “So, you’re saying that you’re putting on the brakes with her?”

  “No, just slowing down the freight train.”

  “Why would you do that for me?”

  “Because we’re going to be partners. Plain and simple. And listen, Woody, I’m kind of a lone wolf, you know? I got obliterated in love once and that was enough for me. Completely and totally obliterated. I don’t ever want to feel that way again. So I’m not looking for a swing set in my yard here. She’s young. You’re young. You know what I mean?”

  “I think I hear you loud and clear.”

  After dinner, Beth and Max walked out to the parking lot.

  “I have a little surprise for you, Max.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “One hundred thousand dollars. It should be in your account by Monday afternoon, if it all goes right.”

  “Come here, you gorgeous creature!”

  “Max!”

  After kissing the neck and lips off Max in the parking lot for the whole world to see if they cared to witness her doomed expression of ill-placed affection, Beth drove home. Max announced that he was saying good night then, instead of going back to her house because he had to get up early and drive to Wrightsville Beach, where his next project was in its infancy. She understood but was disappointed.

  “No, I get it. It’s okay.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  When Beth got home she found Woody on the porch watching the tide roll in across the shore.

  “Hey!” she said just as she spotted him in the half-light. He immediately stood up from his chair. “How was your dinner with Max?”

  “Absolutely fantastic. The more I see him, the more I like him.”

  “See? I told you he was wonderful!”

  “We’re going to make up for all the money we lost last year and then some,” Woody said. “I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to Max. This is terrific.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? Isn’t he great?”

  “Yeah. Hey! We hardly saw you all night!”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Drew had me running around like a crazed rabbit!”

  “You must be exhausted! Can I get you anything?”

  “Oh no, thanks. I’m fine. I’ll just go see about—”

  “I walked Lola about half an hour ago when I came in.”

  “You did? Gosh! Thanks!”

  “Glad to help. I like dogs.”

  “Lola’s not a dog.”

  “Of course. I knew that.”

  “Good.”

  “So, you know we have to get your mother to sign a statement agreeing to allow you to borrow against your trust, right?”

  “Yeah, so? No big deal. She’ll do it. I’ll write up all the particulars and fax it to her. She can sign it and fax it back. What else do we need?”

  “A fax is a legal document. That should do it. If the bank has any questions, they can always call her, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Or they can call me. I’m your account manager, remember? Are you sure your mother won’t object?”

  “Why would she? Anyway, listen, don’t worry. I can handle my mother.”

  14

  High Anxiety

  [email protected]

  Maggie, Did you hear Soph and Al got the cover of People for next week? Hot stuff, right? xx

  [email protected]

  Susan, those two aren’t going to be happy until they spend the weekend in the White House. Especially Allison.

  [email protected]

  Meow, Maggie. xx

  “WOODY?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if Uncle Henry just happens to notice that one hundred thousand dollars is missing from my account?” “What will he do? Well, first, he’ll pull out the executive set of CUTCO knives some kid sold him when he or she was home for the summer from college. He’ll then select the one with the serrated edge that you never have to sharpen. Then, after he hacks me into chunks and shovels me into a cooler, he’ll drive my carcass down here and feed it to the sharks while he’s sipping on a great Burgundy. But that won’t happen.”

  “And why not?”

  “Number one, your mother is going to sign off on the loan. Two, I have signing authority on your trust. And three, I don’t know how to say this without sounding obnoxious, but your Uncle Henry is a very big dog and only handles portfolios of over a hundred million. Well, they used to be one hundred and now they’re, well, less. Your trust is like an itty-bitty blip on his global radar, which is not to say he doesn’t care.”

  “Oh. I feel much better. Thanks.”

  “No, I mean he’ll never even see it. You’ll have all the money back in your account plus another twenty percent before he knows it’s gone.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Look, he might get a little insulted that I made this investment without consulting him, but that’s not a big deal. Believe me, in this economy? He’s frying much bigger fish.”

  “For real. Like Orca.”

  “You got it.”

  “Okay. So. Then. Will you call me so I know you got back safely?”

  “Of course! Listen, let me do the worrying here, okay?”

  It was a gorgeous Sunday morning and Woody was headed back to Atlanta. He was in his car, motor running, and Beth was standing by his door, leaning in the window, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Oh, Woody. I hope you’re right. You know, I just want to be in charge of my own life.”

  “I agree. Now, go call your mom and get it over with. Let me know what she says. I’ll be on my cell. And hey, thanks for a great weekend.”

  “Anytime. It was great to see you. Be careful!”

  He backed out of the yard and waved to her before he pulled away. She waved back and then she sighed, long and hard, worrying.

  She was uncertain of how to start the conversation with her mother. What were the words to say that would guarantee the right outcome? Mom? I need to discuss something prett
y serious with you? No, sounds like my life might be hanging by a thread. Mom? Do you know how much of my money Uncle Henry has lost since last September? No, too accusatory. How about, Hey Mom? Got a minute to chat? She decided just to be natural and not to let her mother hear any stress in her voice one way or the other. She was determined to play it cool but she realized she needed to work up her nerve to pick up the phone.

  She flipped on the television intending to channel-surf when she landed on QVC, which was her favorite station next to the one where they cleaned up nasty people’s filthy houses. There was her Aunt Sophie in the television studio selling her new vitamins, along with a package of her DVDs and hand weights for a One Time Only price. The toll-free number was large on the bottom of the screen with their web site. The number of units sold continued to rise. An easy calculation in Beth’s head told her that in less than thirty minutes her aunts had sold to over a thousand customers at seventy-five dollars each, which was charged on any credit card on the planet in three easy payments of twenty-five dollars, over ninety days, not including shipping and handling charges, and taxes where applicable. Whew! Beth thought. That was seventy-five thousand dollars and growing by the minute! Her aunts made a huge profit from the sales. No wonder they were so rich. Beth watched in fascination.

  The screen then switched to a taped session of her Aunt Allison in a workout studio doing one of her exercise routines, demonstrating how easy it was to get in fabulous shape and have a body like hers. Beth was struck for the millionth time by how closely Sophie and Allison resembled each other. In fact, it was all but impossible for her to distinguish between them unless she held them down and found out who had the tattoo. She wondered why her Aunt Allison wasn’t live in the studio helping Sophie hawk their new line of performance-enhancing, spike-your-metabolism, stamina-building pills that seemed to be useful for whatever ails you. But then she decided that even Allison, egomaniac that she was, would recognize that Sophie had the better personality when it came to being charming, engaging, and selling. But there was something off about Sophie’s sales pitch. She sounded forced, as though she didn’t believe what she was saying. Well, no one would ever convince Beth that her favorite relative was a snake oil salesman, and she sure was making money, hand over fist. But something still bothered Beth. She decided to play her aunt’s message on the answering machine again to see if she could sense anything strange in the tone of her voice.

 

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