“Hey! You promised that you wouldn’t come in here! I said I would leave the upstairs alone and you said that you would stay out of this room! Get out now!” Drew yelled at the air. “Well, he didn’t really say that but it was kind of an unspoken promise.” Drew said then to Liza as a matter of fact.
Liza’s voice shook with fear, “Drew? Who are you talking to? Is there someone else here that I don’t know about?”
“Oh, that’s just Brendan. At least I think that is his name. We haven’t been formally introduced, you see. He is a pain in the ass though. He doesn’t keep very good company.” She said a little louder as if to make sure that he heard her loud and clear. “He is very testy and territorial. He plays the piano beautifully though.”
Drew picked up her paint brush that she had sat down on the easel. She studied the blank canvas as if she was imagining her next project. Liza turned her around to face her then.
“Ok, you are getting the hell out of this house, Drew. Do you know that ghosts can speak to you through your dreams? Do you realize that demons can alter your thoughts and make you do crazy things? You are coming with me and that is final. You can wear my clothes let’s just go.” Liza shoved Drew towards the hallway again. Drew stopped though and turned to face her friend.
“Liza, I am not going anywhere, I love it here. It is so peaceful and I have so much to do. I promise you I am not going crazy, and there are no demons warping my mind. I am fine. Besides, I am taller than you and well, sorry to say but a little more blessed. I don’t think that your clothes would do me justice.”
“Drew, you have either made up imaginary friends or this place is haunted, and you are in love, correction, you are obsessed with someone that you are having dreams about. That is not normal.”
“Look,” Drew said as she sat down in one of the antique rocking chairs that sat near the patio doors, “I haven’t made up imaginary friends. There is a ghost in my house, his name is Brendan O’Keefe. I have never seen him and he has only spoken to me once but he is very much to the point. I promise he is harmless. As for the man in my dreams, it’s only a dream, right? No worries my friend! I will go to town tomorrow and get a new phone and I will call you every single day. Ok?”
Liza looked at her friend very suspiciously, “Will you please take a bath and get some sleep? When is the last time that you slept, Drew?”
Drew had to think about that. She really wasn’t sure. She hadn’t even realized that it had been a week and a half since she had talked to Liza. Time seemed not to exist in the last few days.
“I’m not sure, a couple of day’s maybe. I promise. Ok?”
Liza still wasn’t convinced but she knew that she wasn’t going to get her friend to leave without force and she knew that she wasn’t capable of forcing her on her own. Her Nana’s plan wasn’t exactly what Liza had hoped for. She didn’t want to see Drew lose her mind. She knew it was going to be hard, maybe even dangerous, but how was she supposed to control something that she couldn’t even see?
“Will you eat as well?”
“Yes, now that you mention it I am starving!” Drew laughed. She got up and gave her friend a hug. “Let me walk you to the front door then I will go make myself a sandwich, draw myself a bath, and take a nap. I promise.”
Liza believed that she would do exactly that. She thought that her little visit may have woken Drew up a little bit at least. As if Drew had read her mind she watched her eyes become aware of their surroundings.
“Wow! Did I paint all of these? He is beautiful isn’t he? I wish I knew who he was and why I keep dreaming of him.”
“The whole thing is freaking me out, Drew.” “Yeah, maybe I did go overboard just a little bit. Want to help me take them down?” Drew asked as she started to grab one of the paintings she had taped to a wall.
“Yes, yes, I do.” Liza said with a sigh of relief.
As they made their way around the room, one of the pictures that Liza pulled from its sticky grasp really caught her attention.
“Drew, this picture is really creepy. Who are the girls in this one?”
Drew looked down at one of her drawings that Liza was holding in her hand. She had sketched it with charcoal. It was a man; the same man in her other works, and a woman holding hands walking through a woodsy area. There was a young woman watching them from behind a tree with a snotty little look upon her face. The man looked very happy, almost glowing. The woman that he was holding hands with looked as if she could reach out of the picture and scratch your eyes out. It was very disturbing.
“I don’t know.” Drew said as she grabbed the paper from her friend’s hands and wadded it up in a ball. “I don’t remember drawing that one.”
“Drew, let’s go into the kitchen and get you a sandwich, ok?” Liza had started feeling a little better about leaving her friend until seeing that picture. It was scary as hell and Drew didn’t even remember drawing it. Something was going on in that house. She had heard the piano playing as Drew had described and Drew had been nowhere near it. A harmless ghost was one thing; a crazy obsessed and maybe even possessed friend was another.
Drew ate her sandwich and they talked about what had been going on in Liza’s world in the last week. Drew told Liza about the librarian and the cemetery and her encounter with Brendan the ghost. She assured her that she was not going insane and that she had just had a lot on her mind the last few days. She wasn’t planning on going back to work either. She wanted to make a living with her own drawings instead of staring at everyone else’s all day. She had discovered that that was her dream and she had enough cushion in her savings now that she could do it for a little while.
“Plus, I’ve got a few paintings in storage that I think could sell, mostly of the French Quarter. Tourists love that shit.” Drew had said with a mouth full of ham and cheese sandwich when Liza looked a bit skeptical.
She assured her that she would be fine. They were just making their way to the front door to say their good-byes when Drew’s phone rang in her back pocket.
“I thought that you said that you lost your phone, Drew.” Liza said newly aggravated.
“Oh, I thought that I did.” Drew said sincerely.
“Hello? Oh, hey, mom.” Drew said rolling her eyes. “Yes, I know I haven’t called you in a while, I’m fine.” She paused to half listen to the other end of the line and continued to sigh and roll her eyes.
“Yes, mother, I did cash out my life insurance policy… No, mother, I’m not doing drugs.”
Liza couldn’t help but laugh a little. She knew that Drew couldn’t stand her mother and she understood more why after what Drew had told her about her childhood misfortune.
“Mom, I have to go my stove is on fire. Bye.” And she hung up.
“That woman waits eight months to call me just to bitch at me.” Drew said and shoved the phone back in her pocket.
“Call me tomorrow, Drew. Go take a shower, you stink, and then get some sleep, and don’t forget in two weeks you are coming over for Labor Day.” Liza shut the door behind her and immediately heard the piano playing again. She felt chills from head to toe.
“Not now, Brendan.” Drew said rubbing her head. “Actually, if you could find something a little less depressing that would be nice. Especially since the damn cable guy won’t come in the house again since you kept moving the cable wire every time he turned around. If you knew what you were missing you wouldn’t be such an ass about having television.” The piano picked up its pace and Drew danced her way to the bedroom.
The hot bath felt amazing. The music drifted in from the living room and she found that it was quite relaxing. She had filled the bath with bubbles that covered everything up to her chin, just in case. She had almost drifted off to sleep in the bath and hadn’t even noticed the piano had stopped playing.
He knew it was wrong to look in on her while she was bathing but something made him go through the door anyway. He watched her breath. She was so beautiful. She had enough bubbles to suppl
y an entire spa so all he could see was her face. He stayed long enough to make sure that she didn’t fall asleep in the tub then when she started to sit up he left the room and whispered good night so low that even he barely heard it himself.
The next day Drew could feel him watching her every move. She could feel his movements as if he were trying to smother her. She felt him stiffen with every movement around the house and felt him leap forward with the first spray of pledge.
“Don’t worry; it won’t hurt your furniture.” She said. “It helps protect it and leaves a nice clean shine.” She demonstrated with a wipe of the cloth. “See!”
She felt him back off then and knew that he was pleased. She drew open the curtains and opened the windows for fresh air. She then set her canvas up in the living room.
She had promised Liza that she would put her painting away for a while but it was in her blood. She craved the feel of the brush in her hand. She told herself that she wouldn’t paint faces, only objects.
She painted a tree, a very “happy” tree she thought, some flowers grew around the trunk. She tried very hard to stay focused, to draw happy things. Somehow she was lost again. Lost in a world she knew nothing about.
She drew him again. He was tall, so tall that she had to stand on her tip toes to kiss his lips. His shoulders were broad, so broad that he could swallow her when he wrapped his arms around her to dance closely as they had in so many of her dreams.
She felt her temperature rise as his hands fell across her breast. Her toes curled as his other hand reached around to brace the back of her neck as he leaned in to take her mouth in his.
She had never been kissed that way before. She had never really even been kissed before for that matter. She had never felt that way before. She dropped her charcoal stick when she heard the table next to the couch tip over. It had made her jump and startled her back into reality.
When she looked around her there were drawings everywhere. At some point she had traded her paint brush in for charcoal. She saw his face again, everywhere. Her eyes focused then on the drawing that she had just been working on when the table crashing broke her trance. She saw what she had never experienced before in her life nor had any desire for. She saw the image that had just been in her mind. She saw them together on paper in front of her, making love. She saw it and she fainted.
Chapter 4 The Moon
Brendan hadn’t meant to knock over the end table. He had been watching her paint like a mad person, painting after painting. She painted half of his face in one then threw down her brush, tore the paper off and sketched just his eyes with charcoal. She tore the paper off again and again all following a crazed episode of drawing him. She was in a trance.
She had finally stopped and just stared at the blank canvas. He thought that she was done. Then she started drawing very slowly. She was mumbling something under hear breath that he couldn’t understand. He walked away. Not sure what to do. He couldn’t let her continue this fanatical episode. When he turned around and saw what she had drawn, the two of them together as only he had imagined, he had started toward her, to stop her somehow, and ran into the table.
He saw her eyes then. She was frightened. He didn’t understand why, but when the color left her face he knew that she was going to faint. He ran to her and caught her before she could hit the floor. He tucked her into her bed then left her once again. This time he put the paintings and drawings up stairs where she would never see them. And even went as far as hiding her art tools. He didn’t see the point of her going through it all over again.
Is this what she had been doing in the back room? He had peaked in and saw the paintings of himself, of Liza, and of Mary Ann on the walls. He had never watched her go through her trance. He didn’t know how she knew what they all looked like, but seeing their faces reminded him of a past long ago that he didn’t want to think about. He loved those women with all of his heart. He couldn’t bear to look at them so he stayed away from her drawing room.
If he had known what was happening to her when she was painting, he would have stopped it long ago. He made a mental note that he was going to have to keep an eye on her. She obviously needed protecting, maybe from himself, he wasn’t quite sure. Was it his ghostly presence that was causing her insanity? He didn’t know for sure. He knew that if it was that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He would do what was in his power though to keep her from going insane.
Drew woke alone in her bedroom. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there. She opted for a bath to snap her out of whatever she had fallen into. She could hear the piano playing in the living room. It was a very sad tune. It made her want to cry. The bath was very relaxing as usual. She closed her eyes and listened to Brendan play. She was lost in her own thoughts again and didn’t hear the music stop.
“Why are you so hateful to your mother?” Brendan said.
Drew almost jumped out of the bath. It took her a moment to collect herself. “Great. You are silent for a week and then when you do speak you want to talk about my retched mother?”
“Let’s talk about the paintings then. Do you know the man in your paintings?” Brendan said quietly, almost fatherly. Drew felt the tug of a hair brush through her wet hair then. It should have freaked her out, but it was very relaxing so she laid her head back and enjoyed the moment.
Drew felt herself slipping into a trance. She closed her eyes. “I’m not sure. I feel like I do. I don’t even know his name.”
“I heard you tell your friend that you were in love with him.” He said even quieter.
“I know. That’s silly isn’t it? I don’t even like men. They scare me.” She said sleepily.
“I don’t scare you, yet I am a man.” Brendan said as he continued to brush her hair gently.
She felt his finger tips along the edge of her hairline now and opened her eyes. “I didn’t think of you that way before I guess.”
“Why aren’t you afraid of me? Most women scream at the thought of a ghost and swoon at the thought of a man. You are a strange one, Miss Drew.” He stopped brushing her hair then and she could hear his footsteps walk towards the door.
“Will you come back after I get dressed?” Drew said. She didn’t know why but she didn’t want him to go. “I think I may have some wine and I wouldn’t mind some company.”
“Aye.” Was all that he said and he shut the door.
What was she doing to him? She was stirring up feelings in him that he hadn’t felt for a very, very long time, inside and out. Was it even possible for a ghost to be aroused? The feel of her hair on his skin, the smell of the lavender in her bath, how was it even possible? had moved things around but He had played the piano, he he had never literally felt
anything since, well he didn’t like to say died but it was true. He had died. He had no sense of smell, he had not once had any sense of touch in one hundred and fifty years yet he felt her.
He had been watching her all week. She was definitely different than the women from his time. She spoke to him a lot and he was afraid to answer her. She spoke to herself a lot which confused him because he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or not. He had learned a lot about her in such a short time and yet really didn’t know her at all. He had wanted to touch her though so many times.
He loved the way that she would tuck that pink strand of hair behind her ear and bite her thumb nail when she was really thinking. Or, the way that her face would bunch up when she was reading what looked like a love story, as if she were confused. He didn’t know what made him finally go in and talk to her; he just knew that it was time.
Drew dried off and found a long silky white night gown that Liza had given her as a way to tell her to girly up after having to borrow sweats to sleep in. It still had the tag on it. She was feeling like a woman and wanted to look beautiful for some reason. Normally, jeans, a t-shirt, and boots or cotton sweats and a tank top were her cup of tea but she was feeling a little feminine this evening and Liza’s gift was the perfec
t thing to set it off.
She lit candles and even added a little rouge to her cheeks. The mirror in her room had been turned around to face the wall the first time she came into the room just as all of the other mirrors in the house had when she moved in. She turned the hair dryer on and closed her eyes as the heat relaxed her yet again. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.
He would have to tell her about the wine cellar he supposed. For tonight though he would bring her what he knew that she liked as she had brought it from the outside and put it in that strange box that kept things cold without ice. It was a chilled strawberry wine that had been bottled in Ponchatoula he noticed.
When he heard the hair dryer he knew that she must be dressed and let himself in. He almost dropped the tray that to the human eye would seem to be floating in midair. She was absolutely beautiful. She stood in candle light facing the mirror. Her eyes were closed and the air from the dryer blew her long gorgeous blonde hair away from her face. The white gown that she wore made her look even more like an angel. He was glad that she couldn’t hear the moan that he had just uncontrollably released from somewhere deep within. He saw her eyes start to flutter open and quickly moved before she could see him in the mirror. He wasn’t quite ready for her to see that he was literally the man of her dreams.
He set the wine glass and bottle of wine on the night stand and watched as she put the hair dryer in an ancient drawer. She then brushed her hair again with the antique silver brush that he had remembered to be a gift from his parents to his sister.
How he had missed his sister. They had been very close and he would have killed the murderer himself if he had only known who had done it. Even more he would have kept her safe from harm if he had known that she was in any danger at all.
Drew laid the brush down and looked around the room. She could feel his presence, but had no idea where he was exactly.
“I know that you are in here. Where are you?” She said.
Ghost of a Chance Book 1 in Above the Grave Trilogy Page 7