He kissed Liz, hard, ran his hands over her breasts, now empty of milk. Her flat tummy pressed against his. There was no one between them, like he’d dreamed.
He thrust hard, and she encouraged him with whispers and sighs. He looked into her eyes, glazed over with lust. Her hands touched him in all the right places. He went over the edge and finally let go, possessed her, claimed her.
“Don’t stop.” She clutched him with her arms and legs.
Afraid he’d suffocate her, Mike pushed himself up just enough that he could run his lips over her neck and down toward her breasts. He stroked her hot spots.
“Oh, oh.” Liz shuddered, and her muscles contracted around him.
He fell to the side, held her against him as tight as he could, and buried his face in her hair. She traced down his leg with her toes and rested her foot on his. He loved when she did that.
The wall had been breached. “There isn’t anything that’s going to come between us again, Liz. Not your sons, your lawyers, or your ghosts. Not even your lunch.”
Chapter 42
June 25, 2010
Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows. Pungent daylily perfume tickled Liz’s nose. A small group of Mike’s buddies had filled the front left pews, and were already loosening their ties. Her friends from Boston were sitting on the right in elegant dresses and strappy sandals, their necks adorned with pearls, diamond headlights on their ears. Foremost among them was Marti who, despite her own bitter divorce, believed the fact Liz had found Mike was a miracle.
The elderly organist lapsed into a trance as she played “Ode to Joy.” Her eyes closed, and she swayed side to side without missing a note of the lilting melody.
Liz caught sight of a woman she didn’t recognize making her way up the center aisle and settling into a pew. Her jewel-toned sundress clashed with the soft pastel orchids looped over the edge of the pews. Long, unkempt hair lent her an air of disarray, reinforced by the dreamy expression as she studied the bride and groom.
Mike’s gaze had already fixed on her grand entrance.
“Who is that?” Liz asked.
“Sandra Kensington. She owns an herb and crystal store in Harwich. Nice lady, but a bit batty. I wonder what she’s doing here.”
Liz’s stomach lurched. “She wrote something about paranormal events in Brewster, Massachusetts.” This was not the time to discuss the subject in any detail. Would there ever be a right time?
“Yep, she’s the nosy, amateur sleuth, ghost-buster type who crashed your party and now the wedding.”
“Maybe she’s jealous and coming to check me out.” Liz winked at Mike, trying to gloss over the moment.
Mike chuckled. “There is no shortage of eligible men her age. She just plopped herself in the middle of all my lovelorn cronies.”
Father James, dressed in pearlescent white vestments, swept out of the sacristy. “Are we ready for the wedding ceremony?”
Liz scanned the church, but there was no sign of Jay. “Yes.”
The priest’s eyes took in Liz from head to toe. Her pale green silk dress hardly looked like a bridal gown, but she thought the tiny hat with a veil lent an air of romance. Mike would never know that green was Edward’s favorite color. It had been a small gesture, harmless she’d thought at the time. Every husband and wife have secrets, which they take to their graves. Mike and Mary’s, and her and Gerry’s, were likely of little consequence, but Elisabeth and Jared had enough left over ammunition to blow up the house.
“Well, this is certainly the first time I’ve done a wedding and baptism at the same sitting.” The priest looked askance at Mike.
Now for a bit of Catholic guilt to add charge to the gunpowder.
Mae paused from rearranging the flowers on the altar and defused that bomb. “And we appreciate yer understandin’, Father. This is an unusual situation. After all, at our ages, you can’t waste time, and ya take whatever gifts the Lord gives ya.” Renewed and relaxed from the spa weekend in the Berkshires, she looked quite elegant in a cocktail dress and high heels, with her hair twisted and lacquered into a French braid.
“Only for my loyal parishioners,” the priest retorted. “Where are the witnesses?”
“Right here!” Allison, dressed to match Liz, waved her hand.
For God’s sake, could the good father have noted who her companion was? Time to get things moving before this curious mix of humanity and circumstance coalesced into a stick of dynamite.
“Aye, Father.” Kevin, looking like an uncomfortable twin of Mike, stepped forward.
The priest gestured toward the altar, and Mike took Liz’s hand. They’d agreed a grand entrance would be too much, so the bridal party assembled in their assigned places. Liz tried not to worry about the ghost, whose presence was initially just a fleeting memory or thought, but Elisabeth had become more of a conscience or a narrator, reminding Liz of key events and details.
Mike seemed oblivious to any sensation of Jared, and claimed he had only fleeting thoughts and memories. Mae had said nothing since the baby was born, and Kevin thought the whole thing was ‘bellywash.’
Mae held the baby who watched like he knew what was going on. Allison’s partner Dana filmed while Father James led Mike and Liz to the central portion of the altar. Her back turned, Liz could feel the eyes fixed on her, imagine the jumble of emotions and opinions of this whole crazy mess.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and The Holy Spirit . . .”
Liz lost her focus, her mind a conglomeration of civil ceremonies from times past.
Mae had picked the readings, and her recitation of Ecclesiastes and the sentiment that to everything there is a season and purpose could surely resonate with all in the church. The priest read from the Beatitudes, and surprised Liz with his homily. “I don’t think that any gospel passage says more aptly what the union between this couple signifies. It is a marriage that will blend families, friends, and religious beliefs, all of which will bring richness and significance to the vows Elizabeth and Mike will shortly be taking.
“Life, as dear Mae has reminded us, is neither simple nor easy, and all of you here have no doubt experienced much pain and sadness. But that beautiful baby boy, who we will soon be welcoming into God’s family, has brought all of you together and healed Michael and Elizabeth’s broken hearts.” The priest gestured for them to approach the center of the altar.
Liz looked at Mike, a love-struck grin on his face. This whole crazy mess was about love that transcended time and space. The clutch in her stomach eased, but when she saw Jay in one of the front pews, her heart melted and she struggled not to cry.
Allison and Kevin took the appointed places. Liz turned to face Mike and they held hands.
Father James began. “My dear friends, you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Church’s minister and this community. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions by answering ‘I do.”
Michael and Elizabeth have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?
They spoke in unison. “I do.”
“Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”
“I do.”
“Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?
“I do.” Mike’s response was a little louder than hers.
There was also an oddly timed cough from the seated crowd, but Liz didn’t dare look to see if it was Jay.
“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, you must now declare your consent before God and his Church.” Father James nodded to Mike.
He read the book the priest held in front of him. “I, M
ichael, take you, Elizabeth, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.
She paused for moment, staring into her husband’s eyes. “I, Elizabeth, take you, Michael, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
“May the Lord bless these rings, which you give to each other as the sign of your love and fidelity. Amen.” Sprinkles of holy water moistened her face.
Mike slipped the ring on her finger. “Elizabeth, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
“Michael, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” She had to give it an extra shove. He wanted it tight so it wouldn’t slip off in the water.
Father raised his hands. “You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide.”
The priest directed them to turn to the applauding guests.
Jay, in a dark suit and tie, looked an awful lot like Gerry, sitting on the bride’s side, pretty much where she thought the cough had come from. She tingled all over, and Gerry’s aura materialized next to his son. He smiled, eyes fixed on her, his hand rested on Jay’s shoulder to help extinguish that smoldering wick.
They processed toward the back of the church to the wedding march, and by the time she passed her son, Gerry was gone, if he had really ever been there as anything but a figment of her very wild imagination.
Father James followed. “Now we’ll have the baptism.” He gestured, and the entire entourage moved toward the font at the rear of the church.
“The godparents should stand here,” Father James said.
Mae and Kevin stepped in front of the crowd around the font. Jay stood next to Allison. Liz caught sight of Dana focusing the video camera down on the scene from the choir loft.
Liz zoned out while Father James read the prayers and anointed the baby’s head and chest with oil. “What name do you give this child?” he asked.
“Edward Barrett Keeny.” Liz expected to feel the chill of Edward’s presence as his son’s name was spoken, but only summer humidity filled the church. Elisabeth, never having identified with being a mother, had never emerged even when Liz was alone with the baby.
She’d risked exposure of the secret, so as not to deny her son’s paternity completely. Would everyone else just chalk the odd choice of name to the eccentricity of his mother? Mike had accepted it without question. He was the shield from total exposure, but would he someday come to regret it?
Mae held the baby over the basin, beaming like it was her son, and the priest poured water over his head.
Eddie howled in protest.
“May ya never have any more trouble than that, little man.” Kevin traced the Sign of the Cross over his godson.
“Amen.” Liz brushed tears from her eyes.
Sandra Kensington was the last one in the reception line as they welcomed guests to the Inn. “Congratulations to both of you. Adorable baby.”
“Liz, this is Sandra, an old friend of Mary and I.” Mike said.
She smiled at Liz and cooed over the baby, but didn’t linger.
Aside from Marti, Liz’s friends had raved about the restored house, didn’t say much about the baby, and even less about the new husband. At least to her face. Any snide comments over a repast under the backyard tent were filtered out by the string quartet playing Tchaikovsky.
The brunch was over, the caterers were cleaning up, Mike’s friends headed home, and the few Bostonian’s staying over finally retreated to their rooms. Liz’s new family gathered on the porch.
“Who wants to see the horses?” Kevin loosened his tie and stripped off his jacket.
“I love horses.” Dana grabbed Allison’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“This way, then.” Kevin led the way toward the stable.
Allison stopped and called to Jay. “Why don’t you come with us?”
“In a suit?”
Allison laughed. “You’re not going to muck out the stalls. Come on.”
Jay shrugged and followed.
Liz watched Mae directing the four young Irishwomen hired on as chambermaids.
“All right, lassies. This is a trial run. The Inn opens next week, but we get to practice with the wedding guests.” The phone rang. She answered and confirmed a reservation.
Elisabeth was quiet, and Liz still sensed no trace of Edward’s presence. She gestured to Mike, and they went upstairs and changed into shorts and tee shirts. She sat in her rocker, looked out over Cape Cod Bay, and fed the baby. He hung up their clothes and waited patiently for them to finish.
Liz tore her gaze off the glistening water and saw Mike staring at her, lost in another place. The baby had drifted off into his own overfed stupor.
“What’s wrong?” she asked Mike.
He knelt beside the rocker and kissed her. “Absolutely nothing. I can’t take my eyes off my beautiful wife.”
The peace in his face washed over her. Liz fastened her bra and pulled down her shirt. “I’d like to take a walk on the beach.” She hoped he’d understand.
Mike smiled. “Yeah, sure. It’s hard to believe it’s only been one year since I found you that morning.”
They loaded the baby into his carrier, held hands, and went out into the warm, late June sunshine and across the flats from Paine’s Creek to Breakwater Beach. Out here, where it had all come to an end and a new beginning at the same time, she was liberated, refreshed, centered. It all seemed right, all the compromises justified.
They reached the water’s edge. Liz waded up to her knees. Elisabeth stirred and called to Edward in her British accent. “I suppose all our business is finished now, my darling.”
“I hope so.” Mike rested his hands on her shoulders.
As the surf broke, Edward’s foamy kisses moistened her face. The baby felt the mist, yawned, and smiled.
Liz laughed, grateful for Edward’s affirmation and Mike’s steadfast presence.
Mike stroked the baby’s chubby cheeks, and then whispered in Liz’s ear, “The tide’s coming in. Let’s go.”
They turned and headed back toward shore.
Also by Carole Ann Moleti and Soul Mate Publishing:
THE WIDOW’S WALK
Mike and Liz Keeny are newlyweds, new parents, and the proprietors of the Barrett Inn, an 1875 Victorian on Cape Cod, which just happens to be haunted— by their own ghosts from past lives. The Barrett Inn had become an annex of Purgatory, putting Liz and their infant son in danger. Selling the historic seaside bed and breakfast was the only answer, one that Liz and her own tortured specter refused to consider. Were Mike and Liz doomed to follow the same path that led to disaster in their previous lives? Was getting out, getting away, enough?
Available now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/jojps2o
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