I’d already had so much change in my life, and I craved structure and stability, though it didn’t look like that was in the cards, not in Castleberry anyway.
Olivia glanced up from the display cabinet in the main room of the downstairs museum. “Well, hey there, Chantilly. You look gorgeous.” She rested her hand on her side and bumped out her hip. “Did you color your hair?”
I touched my long, curly, red hair, courtesy of my Irish mother. “Nope. It’s the same red. Unless you mean the added gray strands. If so, I’m running right to a stylist to get it dyed.”
She laughed. “Heavens, don’t you dare do that. I can’t see a gray on your pretty head, sweetie.”
“Then you must need your eyes checked, because they’re there. I’ve seen them myself.”
Olivia, an I wasn’t sure how many times granddaughter of the town’s founding father, Andrew Castleberry, had a way about her that made everyone feel better about themselves. She’d also recently made it her life’s mission to partner me up, but after I sat her down and explained my desire to focus on my son and my career over a relationship, the twenty-six-year old match maker, for the most part, backed off.
I glanced around the main parlor area. “You’re doing a great job in here.” “I love the knick-knacks you’ve added.” I picked up a notecard next to a large candelabra resting on top of a glass cabinet and read it.
This candelabra, a well-loved piece, belonged to Castleberry’ founder, Andrew Castleberry. It’s said to have been one of two brought back from an extended trip to New York City a short time before Mr. Castleberry passed. The matching piece burned in a storage fire in the early 1920s.
“I like what you wrote.”
She smiled. “I think it’s important to mix up the items on display, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.” I set the card back on the glass cabinet. “Let’s just hope the kids don’t touch anything.”
She pushed the candelabra toward the back of the cabinet top. “Oh, heavens, I hadn’t thought about that.”
I laughed. “You’ll get this stuff down soon enough.”
“Tomorrow I’ll get the Gone with The Wind display set up in here. I’m really excited about that.” Olivia hadn’t been with the society much longer than me, and prior to my hiring, she was an office assistant, and not actively involved in the historical part. When I came along, I changed that. She still had administrative duties, but she’d taken on a lot more responsibility and done well. I couldn’t do my job without her.
“I’m going to get some paperwork done. If you need something, just holler.”
“Sure thing.”
I climbed the stairs up to the second floor where the historical society offices were located. Every time I took those steps, I glanced down at the one where I’d missed my footing and bounced down on my head, smacking it into the hard marble floor of the foyer. That one moment changed my life forever. I smiled. I’d made the best of my new gift, and so far, it hadn’t been that much of an issue.
Ghosts lived among the living, and since Castleberry was an old town, there were a lot of them. Just the other day I ran into a woman dressed in clothing from the colonial period. She’d stood at the side of our main street, asking for directions, but nobody heard or saw her other than me. I stood next to her with my phone in my hand, pretending to talk to it, and explained that the road she was looking for had changed names.
I didn’t want to send her off without some kind of explanation, so I told her the town was going through a transition of sorts, but if she went down three streets and took a left at the red sign with S-T-O-P written on it, she’d wind up at the town cemetery, which is what she was looking for.
She said she couldn’t read, so I reiterated the red sign with the white letters would guide her, and that she didn’t have to read them to know what it was.
I opened my laptop and was organizing a few things on my desk while it started when Olivia came in with a tall glass of her family’s special recipe iced tea. “Here ya go, sweetie.”
“Thank you.”
A loud banging startled us both.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
“If you think it’s someone knocking on the front door, then yes.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Drats. I haven’t seen me a ghost yet.”
I pushed my rolling office chair away from my desk and stood. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Well yes, of course I’d be scared if I did see a spirit, but I can’t help wanting to anyway. You make it seem so fun and exciting.”
As we walked down the stairs, I promised I’d make it appear more boring the next time it happened.
I unlocked the door and was immediately grabbed and yanked into a tight hug. “Oh, Chantilly, how I’ve missed your sweet face.” My best friend Gen Avondale muffled into the side of my neck.
A clump of her blonde hair found my mouth. I spit it out as I pushed myself out of her tight embrace. I smiled. “Oh my gosh, what’re you doing here?”
She waved her arms in the air and rotated in a circle. “Surprise!”
“Yes. You’ve surprised me.” I grabbed her hand and hugged her again.
Olivia coughed.
“Oh, Olivia, I’m sorry. This is my best friend, Gen Avondale. She lives in Birmingham. Gen, this is my counterpart here, Olivia Castleberry.”
Olivia thrust her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
I grabbed a hold of Gen’s hand and led her to the kitchen as Olivia followed behind. “You must be hungry. Or thirsty. Are you thirsty? Let’s get you something to drink.”
“I am parched. God bless, that’s a longer drive than I thought.”
The distance between Birmingham and Castleberry was about three hours, but in traffic, especially going through Atlanta, could be longer. I offered her a glass of Olivia’s sweet tea, and she accepted. “What time did you leave?”
It was just past eight o’clock in Castleberry, but Birmingham was in the central time zone, and an hour behind.
She sipped the refreshing drink and smiled. “This is the best sweet tea I’ve ever had.” She cheered me with the cup. “You must give me the recipe, sugar.”
I wondered why she didn’t answer my question.
Olivia raised her hand. I would break her of that habit someday. “It’s a secret family recipe. It’s got to be outside for at least five full days of sunshine. It can be left longer, but not less. Never less.” She poured herself a glass. “And it’s strictly forbidden to share the recipe.”
“Oh, sweetie, I understand. My momma has a to-die-for sweet potato pie recipe she won’t even give me until she’s gone to the grave.” Gen shifted her eyes to me. “Oh, honey, I am so sorry. What was I thinking?”
“It’s okay, really.” Both of my parents died in a short period of time, and it wasn’t long ago, but time and my busy life had dulled the pain. Though they were still in my thoughts practically every moment, I was able to push through the sadness and latch onto happiness. Besides, since I’d bumped my head and could see spirits, I hoped I’d see them again one day.
“You sure? I hate to be a Debbie Downer like that.”
I laughed. “Gen, the last thing you’ll ever be is a Debbie Downer.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.
“Miss Chantilly, I’ll be starting the first tour soon. You might want to close your office door. Those cutie pie kindergarteners can be awful loud.”
“Will do, Olivia. If you need me, come get me.”
As we walked up the stairs, I glanced up at the landing. I didn’t think I’d see anything—or anyone, but I found myself doing that sometimes anyway. I’d never seen a spirit just hanging around for the fun of it, and I wasn’t sure that was something they actually did. The few I had seen served a purpose to help me, or for me to help them, or were stuck in some eternal time loop that kept them repeating their last moments or moments that meant something to them. Those were hard, and some
day I’d figure out how to help them.
Gen eyed my messy desk. “Did I come at a bad time?”
While I straightened up my desk, I suggested she sit in the cushy chair I’d taken from storage and put in my office. “Are you serious? There’s never a bad time to see my best friend. I’ve just got a bunch of little things going on, and they take up a lot of space. I’d just spread the files out to decide where to start.” I sat behind me desk. “So, what’s going on?”
She pressed her back against the chair’s and crossed her legs. “Whatever do you mean?”
I raised my eyebrow and she quickly averted her eyes. “I mean, you didn’t surprise visit me because you’ve got nothing to do, and you wanted to take a drive in the early morning hours, so what gives?”
“Can’t a girl just decide on a whim to go on a road trip to see her bestie?”
“She can, but it’s not like you.”
I’d known Gen Avondale for almost twenty years. She was the first person I met when my ex-husband Scott and I moved into our neighborhood in Birmingham, Alabama, and I knew when she wasn’t being honest. And she was lying. I leaned back into my chair and set my eyes on hers. “Say it again.”
She pushed her chin back. “Say what?”
“Say what you just said again, and keep your eyes on mine while you do it.” I knew if she could, she was telling the truth. If she couldn’t, then I’d busted her.
She laughed. “I am not lying to you, Miss Chantilly. I can’t believe you’d think that. You should know me well enough to know when I just want some girl time with my best friend. I’ve missed you since you deserted me.”
Oddly, she’d said all of that with a straight face and with her eyes locked on mine. Maybe I was wrong? Maybe she was telling the truth. “Okay then, how long you planning to stay?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have something going on?”
“Nothing I can’t do with you here. Austin has lacrosse tonight, but if you don’t want to go to that, I can drop you off at my place first.”
“Ooh, is that handsome police detective going to be there?” She winked at me. “I might could spend a little time analyzing him, you know, to make sure he’s the man for you.”
Had I actually mentioned that Jack was good looking? I couldn’t remember. “I never said he was attractive, did I?”
She pointed at me. “Just now, sweetie. Just now.”
I laughed. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Like I did tell you—” because I knew for sure I’d mentioned the whole murder investigation thing and what happened with it, “he’s not exactly talking to me at the moment, so good looking or not, it’s not a thing.” Nor would it ever be. I had no desire to date again. Ever.
She smirked. “Whatever you say, sugar. Whatever you say.”
I cleared my throat and straightened some papers on my desk. “So, I’ve got a meeting with the historic committee today to go over a few applications and such, and that should take a few hours, unfortunately. Are you hungry?” I placed a file folder for one of the properties in question on the side of my desk and began sifting through the other ones. “I bet you’re hungry and tired. How about we grab a quick breakfast for you and then you can follow me back to my place and maybe take a nap and freshen up? I can pick you up after lunch?”
“That sounds perfect.” She covered her mouth with her hand and yawned. “I am give slap out for sure. I didn’t realize how exhausting that drive would be.”
I gathered my things and put them back in my bag, preparing to meet with the committee after I led Gen back to my place. “Doesn’t help that you left before dawn.”
DEL STEPPED OUT OF the kitchen and furrowed her brow when she saw me. “What’re you doing back here? Don’t you got a job my taxes pay for?”
“Oh, I like her already,” Gen said. She smiled at Delphina. “I’m Genevieve Avondale, from the Avondale’s of Birmingham.” She thrust her hand over the counter and to Del’s.
Del stared at it, glanced at me, and then shook her hand limply. “Delphina Beauregard. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Chantilly here’s told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Del’s eyes shifted to me and stared at me with a combined expression of, who the heck is this, and why haven’t you mentioned her to me?
I saved her from saying that out loud. “Del, this is Gen, my best friend from Birmingham.”
“Oh, right. Gen. I know you.” She dropped the confused look and smiled. “Nice to put a face to the name.” She gave Gen the once over, letting her eyes soak in Gen’s pink bedazzled athletic attire. “What’re you in town for, a bubble gum convention?”
My eyes popped. “Uh...”
“Oh, you’re just as sassy as Chantilly here said.” She laughed. “I think we’re going to get on just fine.”
I hoped she was right. Delphina was a true small-town Southern woman, but not the Southern belle kind like Gen. Gen came from old money, lived in a big house, held fancy dinner parties, and wore dresses and bows in her hair. Del wore faded blue jeans and polyester pants from the 80s, and a dinner party to her was a homemade chicken pot pie with a side of collard greens and cheesy grits. Del grew up in a small home with a hot water tank and a septic tank, both things her family purchased after she was born and after years of using an outhouse. Gen, on the other hand, grew up in an antebellum home sitting on twenty acres that included a pool, tennis courts and their own walking path to the country club and golf course next door. She wouldn’t know a hot dog if it stared her in the face. But none of that mattered to me. Gen was a true friend, and though our upbringings were entirely different, she’d been there for me when I needed her, and vice versa, and that’s all that mattered.
“Del, Gen’s in town for a surprise visit. She just arrived a bit ago, and she’s famished. I thought we’d come by here and get her something yummy right quick before she heads back to my house to rest.”
“Famished?” Del gave her another stern eyeing. “Looks more like she’s starving herself to me. One daily special coming right up.”
“Daily special?” Gen asked.
“Two eggs over medium, toast, bacon, and grits,” I said.
“Oh, heavens, I can’t fit all of that into my stomach. I’ll be ill for hours. I’ll just take two pieces of wheat toast, vegan butter, and a black coffee.”
“Got it,” Del said. She rolled her eyes at me. “Two pieces of white bread, toasted, a slab of butter, and the coffee.”
I smiled at Gen and shrugged. “This is a small farm community. Vegan isn’t in our vocabulary.”
Gen and I took a seat at the front of the small café. Del’s employee, a young high school student doing a morning internship for the next month, poured our coffees and brought them to us with cream and sugar on the side.
Gen took a sip of hers, and I laughed as her pinky stuck straight out while she held the cup.
“What?”
“Your pinky. Cracks me up every time.”
She set her coffee cup down on the table. “Oh, it just automatically does that. That’s what years of cotillion will do to a girl.” She removed her cell phone from her large Louis Vuitton bag, glanced at it, then set it face down on the table.
“How’s Jeffrey?”
She shifted her eyes to the phone again and then back to me. “Oh, he’s Jeffrey, like he always is.”
I had no idea what that actually meant, but I didn’t think it was good. I leaned into the table and toward my best friend. I noticed then her shoulder length, glossy blonde hair wasn’t as shiny, and her saucer sized blue eyes lacked the spark they once carried. Her face just looked tired. “Gen, what’s going on? You can tell me.”
She shifted in her seat, checked the area around us, and then whispered, “I’ve left Jeffrey.”
I straightened in my seat. “You what? Why?”
From the outside, Jeffrey and Genevieve Avondale were the perfect couple. Jeffrey, a successful businessman, dote
d on his wife, showering her with diamonds and fancy, exotic vacations. When Gen discovered she couldn’t have children, Jeffrey promised to find the best surrogate in the country. They decided against it, though, because Gen felt if God wanted her to have a child, he’d allow her body to do that. They ate well, lived well, and he showered her with affection. They were two peas in a pod in many, many ways, so her leaving him seemed improbable if not completely impossible.
Her face brightened to a pink hue. “It’s complicated but trust me. I’m doing the right thing.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “Okay, but—”
She shook her head. “Please, not here. I don’t like to air my dirty laundry in public.” She adjusted her legs, and I watched her body relax. “We have plenty of time to discuss it later.”
Chapter Two
The meeting with the historic committee took longer than I’d expected, and I rushed home to pick up Gen. When I got there, she had a family photo album on her lap and was slowly perusing through the pages.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t looked through that thing in ages,” I said.
“You were just adorable, honey.” She pointed to a photo of twelve-year-old me with a poufy ponytail and braces wearing overalls. “I love your sense of style.”
I laughed. “Right. I was an influencer back in my day for sure.”
As she scanned through the rest of the book, I prepped an extra water bottle for Austin along with two bottles for us. It was my week to bring snacks, which I’d prepared for a few days prior, so I tossed them into my large beach bag along with the waters, and we headed to the game.
“I’m excited to meet the detective.”
I kept my eyes on the road. “Please, don’t embarrass me. We’re barely talking. He doesn’t say much more than hi to me these days.”
“Well, we’ll just have to fix that now, won’t we?”
“No, we won’t.”
“Oh, come on. You two were friends for a long time. He needs to get his ego straight.”
Ghosts are People Too Page 2