by Linda Palmer
Through her?
Yeah, I realized, breaking into sobs of relief. She was nothing but a ghost. As fresh as that young spirit I’d seen at the hospital, but still just a spirit. With my heart hammering painfully in my chest, I eased the car to the side of the road and put it in park. I rescued my food sack from the floor where it had fallen when I stopped and set it back in the seat. Then I closed my eyes. Immediately, I saw her again, clear as day, a full-body apparition. Were those fresh bruises on her arms? Was that blood all over the front of her blouse?
Opening my eyes, I absorbed my surroundings. I saw that the car faced west. To my right lay a gravel road bordered on each side by woods. No, it was a drive, and it curved, disappearing into some trees and making it impossible to see what lay at the end of it. A graveyard, I wondered? A country church? A house? I looked for a mailbox, but didn’t see one. I looked for a distant light that might indicate life beyond the woods. Didn’t see that either.
Gathering my courage, I backed up the car and headed down that narrow, overgrown drive. My pampered car struggled a little with the terrain, but I didn’t stop until I glimpsed a clearing ahead. At least I thought that’s what it was. I was pretty sure I saw buildings, too, and was that a car?
Terror suddenly gripped me.
Only an idiot would try to trail what she truly believed was a freshly made ghost. Who knew what horrors lay ahead? Did I really want to drive right into them?
Knowing I did not, I hit the brake again. Then I shifted into reverse and backed out the way I’d come in. Though a call to 9-1-1 might’ve been in order, I had no intentions of making one.
I could just hear myself: “Hi, I’m a medium. I don’t know where I am, but I just I saw a ghost run out of the trees, which means her killer could be mutilating her dead body as we speak.” Yeah, right. If the police even followed up on my crazy call, they’d probably wind up crashing down some poor farmer’s door and scaring the heck out of him.
For the first time in ten years, I hated what I was, what I could do. I rolled down the window and put my head out, shouting into the night. “Leave me alone!” Then I looked both ways, shifted into drive, and drove like hell to Marty Bookman’s.
I made a couple of wrong turns I blamed on my shattered nerves, but still got there before Cooper did. Though there were lights inside the house, I didn’t knock on the door, choosing to sit in my car instead. The moment he pulled into the drive and parked to the side of the concrete—probably so vehicles in the garage could get out—Cooper jogged my way. I met him at the curb.
After taking one look at my face, he pulled me into his arms. “What?” The word felt warm against my hair.
“I’m totally freaking out.”
He leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at my face, frowning when he did. “Let’s go inside.”
I resisted. “Should we?”
“Marty’s parents are obviously up. As for Marty, he’s out with Brynn and won’t be back for hours.”
“I know. Let me call Mom, okay?” I did, telling her I was with Cooper and would be home soon. She automatically told me to drive carefully on my way there, something she always said.
One thing about my parents that I truly loved was their trust in me. We were tight, probably because they’d both made such an effort to understand my gifts. I kept no secrets that mattered; I couldn’t. They knew me inside and out, and we respected as much as we loved one another. For that reason, they seldom fussed when I changed my plans. Always calling to tell them probably helped, too.
Cooper took my hand, which had an oddly calming effect on me. We headed to the front door. I wondered briefly if he had a key, but didn’t ask. I did put into words something I’d been curious about for a while. “How long are you going to stay here? Aren’t you worried that you’re imposing on them?”
“Of course I am. But every time I talk about leaving, Mrs. Bookman shushes me.”
“It must feel odd staying here when you have parents and a perfectly good bedroom right across town.”
“Yeah, and even odder that I feel more comfortable in this house than there. It hasn’t been easy trying to be someone I’m not for eight years. It was like I was stuck in someone else’s life, and the part didn’t fit me.”
I nodded, feeling worse for him than ever, if that was possible. Though I’d always known I was lucky to have parents with open minds, I’d honestly had no idea just how much.
Cooper gave me a quick kiss on the porch and then opened the door. I stepped inside first, noting the parquet floors of the foyer and a side table with a bouquet of yellow fall flowers in it. I touched one. Silk, though they looked very real. Stairs, ahead of us and slightly to our left, ascended to the second floor.
To the right a door opened into what appeared to be a formal living room. I could hear a TV coming from somewhere in the back of the house. The door to our left was closed. A couple of words popped into my head: happy and warm.
Cooper took my jacket and led the way to a huge den, where he introduced me to Marty’s parents, Caroline and Larry.
Mr. Bookman gave me a grin and a nod. Mrs. Bookman jumped right up and engulfed me in a hug. “Cooper has told us so much about you, Mia. And you surely know Marty is your number one fan.”
*
Chapter Ten
“Oh yeah?” I felt my face heat up.
“He was not happy that the baseball had been under our noses the whole time we were turning his grandma’s house upside down looking for it. I’d forgotten all about that old cedar chest.”
I nodded and smiled. “I know it’s not really my place to say this, but thank you—both of you—for letting Cooper stay here.”
Mrs. B laughed. “I’ll do anything for free babysitting.”
Free babysitting? I caught Cooper’s eye. He hadn’t mentioned that.
“One night a week doesn’t go very far towards payback,” he said by way of explanation.
“Well, the kids adore you, so I call us square.”
Cooper clearly liked the sound of that. “We’re going to hang out in Marty’s room for a while.”
With a little wave, she returned to her husband, who was watching us from the couch. I liked that they’d obviously been cuddling, something my parents did, too. With Cooper in the lead, we left them to head upstairs. I also liked that family photos covered the walls all the way up.
When we got to Marty’s room moments later, Cooper moved a laptop off one of the twin beds so we could sit on it. “Are you okay now?”
“I think I am.”
“Good. Mind if I take a quick shower before we talk? I smell like a chicken nugget.”
I shook my head that I didn’t. He handed me the remote, grabbed some clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, I heard water running. I didn’t turn on the TV, but explored instead.
Marty’s interests littered the room, from the sports posters on the walls to the mangas on his bedside table. I saw trophies, a baseball bat, and an amazing array of Star Wars stuff he’d probably been collecting since he was little. His shelves sagged under the weight.
Did living amongst all Marty’s personal stuff make Cooper feel lost or disconnected? I knew I’d have felt that way. As far as I could tell, my guy had nothing of his own around, and my resentment toward his parents—his mom in particular—grew.
When Cooper came out the bathroom, he smelled very fresh and sporty. He rubbed his hair with the towel, which he tossed aside before sitting next to me on the bed.
I liked that he didn’t bother with a comb. The messy look suited him well.
“So what’s up?”
I told Cooper about running down a spirit in the middle of nowhere.
“Damn, Mia. This is getting crazy. Have you told your parents anything about the ghosts?”
“No, but now I’m thinking I should.”
“Me, too. I also think you should call Detective Simms and try to make him understand how persistent these women are.”
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I sighed my reluctance, but gave in. “Okay, but he’s just going to say what he always says: stay out of it.”
Cooper kissed me. I pushed him back on the bed and then joined him there, our legs dangling over the side of the mattress. No guy had ever smelled or felt so good to me, and I let him know it.
Though I wasn’t sure how long we’d been making out when we finally came up for air, I had a sneaking suspicion it was past time for me to go home.
A quick glance at my watch confirmed it. “Yikes. I need to leave, which is sad, since this was just getting good.”
“Baby, you have no idea.”
With a grin, I kissed him again and then made myself get off that bed and put on my jacket. When we stepped into the carpeted hallway, we heard a giggle.
“Shit,” said Cooper, his curse a whisper I barely heard. He slipped down the hall and peeked into another bedroom. A moment later a rectangle of light fell across the hall. I walked toward it to the accompaniment of squeals and more giggles coming from the room.
When I peeked through the doorway, I saw what was definitely a girl’s room, as in Jenn’s. She had canopy bed with a bright pink comforter on it and Disney princess posters everywhere. A Cinderella castle sat in one corner. In another I saw roller skates and a pint-sized softball bat. Clearly this room belonged to a modern girl, even though she was young. I liked that she already had layers.
Cooper, bent over the mattress, tickled Jenn unmercifully while Joey snickered from a corner of the room.
The moment he stopped, she began chanting, “Cooper and Mia sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
I couldn’t help but be amazed. “You can spell already?”
“That’s probably the only word she knows,” Cooper told me with a wry smile. He shook a finger at Jenn. “We’re leaving now. Do not get out of that bed again.” Taking Joey’s hand, he walked to the door and put his finger on the light switch. “Love you, Jenn-ren.”
“Love you, Cooper-pooper.”
Ah. Bathroom humor. I remembered those days.
My parents probably did, too.
Cooper doused that room in darkness, scooped Joey under his arm, and marched us to another bedroom. He didn’t turn on that light, but the moon revealed a Power Rangers décor and lots of super heroes posters.
My very patient, surprisingly responsible boyfriend tucked Joey into the bed, tousled his hair, and slipped back into the hall. “Let’s get out of here while we can.”
Before we left the house, I waved goodbye to the Bookmans, still snuggling as they watched a late movie. I realized I felt completely carefree. No wonder Cooper had run to them. What a contrast to his own regimented existence.
Though my parents were in bed by the time I got home, they weren’t asleep. I made my way through their dark room and jumped onto the foot of the mattress, bouncing them both. “We need to talk.”
Dad, wearing his usual plain white tee and flannel sleep pants, flicked on the side lamp and sat up, one bare foot already on the floor. “What’s up, kiddo?”
Mom folded her pillow and stuffed it under her head.
“I’ve been seeing some really scary spirits.” I gave them the details of each encounter, including that night’s. I also told them about the haze around Detective Simms and shared my theory that he was so good at what he did because he was driven by regrets that he hadn’t saved the world.
“Want Mom to set up a meeting for Sunday?” asked Dad.
“Sometime next week, okay? Cooper and I are going to see his grandmother in Nacogdoches tomorrow.”
“I thought he didn’t have any family around.”
I explained the situation. Mom, who loved happy endings, clearly expected our visit to result in one. I hoped it would, too.
Cooper picked me up pretty early Sunday morning. One look at him showed me a nervous guy who’d dressed with care in a brown Henley that made those dark eyes of his pop. I saw that he’d brought along a rainproof jacket, as had I. The overcast sky seemed to promise that we’d need them.
The drive into Texas took a couple of hours since we stopped for breakfast at an IHOP on the way. Over the meal, I suggested once again he might want to call Ruby to tell her we were coming and make sure she’d be there. But he wanted to stick to his first plan, which was to get a feel for the place before we approached her. Trusting our sidekicks as I did, I could only agree that would be smart.
When we got up to pay, I sensed the presence of an elderly male spirit, leading me to a server in a maternity uniform. As she walked by us, a coffeepot in hand, I stopped her. “Excuse me, but have you recently lost someone you love? An older man?”
Her shocked expression was my answer.
But I needed to confirm it. “I’m a medium. I think someone who has died wants to tell you something. It is you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Was he your granddad?”
“Uncle.”
I focused on the spirit. “Your uncle…Joe, right?”
She nodded.
“Your Uncle Joe wants you to know that he’s very proud of you for deciding to keep the baby.”
She gasped and almost dropped the coffeepot. Another server, who’d clearly been listening in, swooped in and took it from her.
“He says you’ll be as amazing a mother as his precious younger sister was. He’s also telling me he’s very proud of you for not dropping out of college even though you’ve got so much on your plate.”
She began to choke up, and she wasn’t the only one. By now we had several people tuned in. “Is he at peace?”
“Yes.”
“Is he with Mom?”
“Yes, and your grandparents are there, too.” I got a spiritual nudge. “And he says that you should go with Joseph for the baby’s first name, but pick out something besides William for the middle one. Calling the baby Joe Willie would not be cool.” I turned to Cooper, who was possibly getting the same messages that I was, though he didn’t give himself away. “Any clue why?”
“Well, Joe Willie is the nickname for Joe Namath, who played football for the Jets for years.” He caught the waitress’s eye. “Was your uncle as big a Patriots fan as he’s saying? The Jets-Patriots rivalry goes way back.”
She laughed through her tears. “He was, yeah. Had a whole room devoted to them. Tell him I’ll find another middle name for Joey.”
Cooper and I left shortly after, but not before half the servers and some of the diners gave me spontaneous hugs.
“That was awesome,” he said as we walked to his truck. “Being around you is like having a sunbeam in my pocket—very bright and warm.”
“Thanks,” I said, thinking how he gave me that same loving feeling.
With the help of his GPS, we found Ruby Comstock’s house easily. Cooper drove by three times before finally parking his truck at the curb. We both sent out mental feelers, even though I knew he’d pick up more than me, the dead-people magnet.
“Well?” I asked when we’d sat there for several minutes.
He gave me one short nod. “We’re good.”
As we approached the ranch-style brick house via the front walk, I couldn’t begin to imagine what Cooper must be going through. First, was this even the right person? And, second, if it was, how would she receive us?
Walking across the wide porch with its plants, rattan chairs, and glider, I mentally crossed my fingers that we were doing the right thing. Cooper rang the bell. A backlit silhouette visible through lace side curtains approached, and a woman opened the door.
Before I could get an impression of her, she gasped and staggered back a step.
“Whoa now!” Cooper lunged forward, reaching out as she swayed on her feet and catching her by the wrists.
“Brett?” Her voice sounded shaky and much older than she looked.
“Not Brett. Cooper, his son.”
“Cooper! Oh my God.” Bursting into tears, she enfolded him in her arms.
I fanned my face with my hand
to cool the sudden heat there, blinking all the while.
Ruby Comstock looked much younger than any of my grandparents, but then she probably was since Cooper’s parents had a baby so young. Mid-to-late fifties, I decided, noting her dark hair combed in a decidedly spiky style. I didn’t see a bit of gray, and though she might’ve hidden it with color, I thought not. She had Cooper’s eyes, or, I realized, he had hers.
“Has anyone told you you’re the spit and image of your dad?”
“No.”
I suddenly wished I had. I’d known, after all.
“Well, you are.” She patted his shoulder and stepped back, shifting her gaze to me. “And who is this?”
“Mia Tagliaro, my girlfriend.”
“Hello, honey.” Ruby hugged me, too. “Come on in. I guess your mother gave you my address.”
Since Cooper couldn’t seem to find his tongue, I answered. “Actually it was Google and a TomTom.”
She laughed heartily and ushered us into her living room. “My husband Jim is hunting, so I’ve got the house to myself for a couple of days. Have a seat. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
We shook our heads and sat next to each other on the corduroy couch. She settled into a matching recliner. “I’m so glad you’re here. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Hope I didn’t write too many letters.”
My stomach sort of swooped.
“You wrote me letters?” asked Cooper.
She got very still. “Dozens.”
He glanced at me uncertainly. “I didn’t get them.”
“What about the birthday cards?”
“No.”
“Oh dear. Christmas presents?”
“Not one.”
She sighed heavily. “This is all your Grandpa Mel’s fault. He was so hateful to your mother that she probably threw everything away, thinking it was all from him. Nothing was, of course. That old man had an iron will and stubbornness to match. Once he made up his mind, he would not back down, and if I tried to buck him, I caught hell for it.
“Not that he was violent. He was more passive aggressive, which meant he could cold-shoulder you better than any human on the planet. I let him call the shots for years without realizing it. I was that caught up in being a supportive wife and keeping the peace.”