Kindred Spirits: A Romantic Comedy About Love, Life, and the Afterlife . . .

by Whitney Dineen

  With hand to heart, he feigned, “You wound me.”

  Pip exclaimed, “And he has a sense of humor. I’m done for.”

  Liam plopped down on the couch next to his wife’s friend, and put her feet in his lap. “Philippa, I have the perfect bloke to introduce you to.”

  “You do not,” she insisted.

  At the same time his wife exclaimed, “You do? Who?”

  With a mischievous grin, he replied, “I do, actually. His name is Declan and he’s a new solicitor at our firm.”

  “Uh-oh,” Sephra groaned. “Solicitors work hellishly long hours, I should know.”

  “Now, now, now,” her husband replied. “Beggars can’t be choosers.” Then, worrying he’d offended Pip, he added, “Not that you’re a beggar.”

  Pip smiled, “Oh, I’m a beggar all right. You can enter that into the evidence against me, Your Honor.”

  Her friend’s husband laughed out loud, “Look at that, would you? She’s already got the lingo down. I guess now all I have to do is set the two of you up.”

  Pip pleaded, “Please not a blind date!”

  Sephra interjected, “How about if you ask Declan out to the pub for a pint some night, and Pip and I just happen to be there?” To her friend she added, “That way, there’s no pressure if you don’t fancy him.”

  Pip replied, “No pressure, but a lot more people who may have messages coming in from the great beyond. “

  Sephra asked, “What’s your new contact’s name, again? Bernard, Bertie, Bernhardt . . .”

  “Bertram,” Pip answered.

  “Right, Bertram. Why don’t you simply ask Bertram to let you have this first meeting without any incoming messages? You said he seemed like an amiable enough fellow. I bet he’d help you out.”

  Pip considered the idea. Bertram did seem very personable, especially when compared to his predecessor. And he was a man who seemed to miss the finer points of being alive, like a good stout and fish and chips. Perhaps he would help her out.

  Just as she decided to take Sephra’s advice and ask to be left alone during her first meeting with Liam’s mate, her friend’s husband announced, “Come on, loves, I’ve whipped up a mean curry to delight your taste buds.”

  Philippa threw her hands into the air, “And he cooks! Seriously, Seph, if I didn’t love you so much, I’d downright hate you.”

  Later that night, Pip lay in bed and called, “Bertram, are you there?” There was no answer so she tried again, a little louder, “Bertram, come in, Bertram. I need to ask a favor.”

  At that, her new contact materialized on the end of her bed. As he sat down, she realized that instead of looking like a dock worker in dirty jeans and torn t-shirt like he did the day they met, he was wearing a nicely pressed button-down and crisp khaki trousers. His goatee had been shaved off and his hair was slicked back and clean.

  Pip gasped, “Bertram, look at you. You look positively civilized!”

  “I told you, love. Things aren’t always what they seem. And just so you know, we do have a life in the afterlife. I was at the cinema with a beautiful young thing when you called. So can we make this quick?”

  “Oh, yes, sorry.” Pip had never heard of a cinema in the afterlife and wanted to ask a few questions about it, but decided her campaign for love ranked higher in importance. So she asked, “I was wondering if perhaps I could get a few guaranteed hours with no messages to deliver?”

  Looking confused, Bertram replied, “You get at least eight hours a day with no interruptions already, love.”

  “Bertram, I’m asleep during that time.” She implored, “Please, just this once? Just long enough that I can have a first date without being outed as a freak?”

  Her contact shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I can file a request, but I make no promises.”

  Pip exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and replied, “Thank you, Bertram. I appreciate it. Now, tell me about this beautiful young thing you were at the cinema with.”

  The smile on his face transformed him into a very handsome man, indeed. “I was watching a film with my daughter, Periwinkle.”

  “Your daughter? I didn’t know you had a daughter. Is she um, you know,” tripping over her words she asked, “dead, as well?”

  “She’s not. She’s five and she’s very much alive.” He added, “She lives with her mum in Kent.”

  Pip inhaled sharply, “Oh, Bertram, I’m so sorry. You must miss her terribly.”

  “I do,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Peri was only four when I passed and she’s starting to forget me. I try to spend as much time with her as I can while she’s doing quiet activities, in hopes she’ll feel me around her.” He thoughtfully added, “In hopes she’ll remember me for a while longer.”

  Pip didn’t quite know how to respond. She didn’t normally think of her contacts as they were when they were alive. In fact, she couldn’t recall any who’d shared special memories of their life with her. When they spoke of what they missed, it was usually things like food or dancing. They never talked about missing people or of their own personal journeys. She wondered why that was.

  “Bertram,” she asked, “is there something different about you than my other contacts?”

  Staring at her intently, he answered, “Oh, I’m different all right. But I’m sure you’ll understand it’s not something I’m at liberty to discuss quite yet.”

  Pip was used to taking things at face value with the afterlife. She realized there was much she couldn’t or wasn’t meant to know, so she simply replied, “Of course. But just so you know, if you ever need to talk, I’d be more than happy to listen.”

  Standing up, Bertram responded, “Thanks, love. I appreciate it. Now, I have to nip off. My beautiful lass is waiting for me.” With those words he simply faded out of Philippa’s room.

  Pip reflected that most of her life had been spent in the service of others. Through otherworldly correspondence, she helped them right their wrongs or get back on track when they slipped off, but she’d never wanted to help anyone more than she did Bertram.

  Imagine being a parent and dying before even having a chance to watch your child grow. Imagine them forgetting you before you’d fully transitioned over. Pip fell asleep overcome by the unfairness of life.

  As soon as she lost consciousness, she felt herself drift away from her body and float into a beautiful meadow. Corrine was waiting for her under a large shade tree. She gestured for her to sit down and offered the following words: “Life is always fair in the end and it all works out as it should. Just stay on your path, Pip, and enjoy every stop on your journey. Stay the course and your dreams are sure to come true.”

  New York

  Chapter 9

  Richard sat at an outdoor table enjoying his lunch of beef carpaccio on an arugula salad. Spring had finally come to the Big Apple and it was high time to enjoy an alfresco meal when the temperature allowed.

  He’d been on two other first dates that Rachel had set up. While both women were nice enough, he knew immediately he wasn’t attracted either of them. He was starting to feel hopeless as far as his love life was concerned. All he wanted was to meet a normal, lovely, intelligent woman who didn’t want to marry him for his money. Why was that so damn difficult?

  Richard decided to order a glass of wine to dampen his sorrows. He couldn’t go full-force and drown them, as he needed to be on top of his game for his meeting later that afternoon, but he was more than happy to get them a little wet.

  Richard sipped his pinot noir in between bites of succulent, paper-thin slices of beef. As he took his last bite, his eyes were drawn to a copper-haired Amazon a couple of tables over. She was enjoying her ahi in a manner reminiscent of foreplay. Seriously, he was getting aroused just watching her.

  When her entrée was cleared, Richard ordered two desserts; one was a peach cobbler with vanilla bean gelato and the other was a classic crème brûlée. As soon as they were delivered, he picked them
both up and walked over to the redhead’s table. He smiled and inquired, “May I join you?”

  The woman replied, “Excuse me?”

  Richard repeated, “May I join you for dessert? I won’t be any problem because I’ve brought my own.”

  She looked like she didn’t know how to answer. So he added, “I loved watching you eat your lunch. You really know how to savor the flavors.”

  The gorgeous stranger turned bright red and replied, “Please tell me you weren’t watching me eat.”

  “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. That’s why I brought the desserts over. I could die a happy man if you’d just take one bite of each.” Then he added, “I’m Richard Bingham, by the way.”

  The woman laughed before holding out her hand, “Mimi Finnegan.” She continued, “Richard, more than anything I would love to eat both desserts in their entirety, but I can’t. I’m on Weight Watchers and I’m sure that even one bite of either will cause me to gain back the five pounds I’ve lost.”

  Richard inhaled sharply, “What are you doing on a diet? You’re a gorgeous woman, perfect the way you are.” And he meant it. This goddess was in no way heavy—curvy yes, but in all the right places. The refreshing thing was that she didn’t look malnourished like half the women in Manhattan, and watching her eat had been a positively erotic experience. He was sure that anyone who enjoyed her food as much as she did would embrace life with a joie de vivre he wanted to witness.

  Richard sat down and begged, “Join me for dinner tonight.”

  Mimi replied, “I’m sorry, I have a work party tonight. Plus, I don’t even live in New York. I’m in town on business and I’ll only be here for three more days.”

  “I could go home with you and we could be married over the weekend. How does that sound?”

  Mimi laughed, “It sounds like a delightful offer, and I’m sure I’d take you up on it if I wasn’t already half-way, miserably in love with somebody else.”

  Richard listened as Mimi told him all about Elliot Fielding, the man she was on a business trip with. Then she told him about Elliot’s girlfriend, Beatrice. Richard was disappointed, but not monumentally so. It’s not like he had more than fifteen minutes of interest invested. So he counseled, “The trick is to make him jealous.”

  Mimi agreed, “It’s a sound plan, but the problem is I have no one to make him jealous with.”

  “Yes, you do. You have me. I don’t have a thing on the books tonight, so you should invite me along and I’ll do everything in my power to make Elliot green with envy.”

  Mimi smiled, “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  “Absolutely,” he answered, “As long as you know I’ll be primarily working to further my own pursuits. If you’re okay with me trying to steal you out from under this Elliot, then I’m your man.”

  “You have a deal, Richard. Meet me at the SoHo Gallery at eight o’clock tonight.” Then she kissed him on the cheek and left the restaurant.

  Richard smiled at the unexpected turn to his day. Maybe this auburn-haired goddess was the perfect mate he’d been searching for. If nothing else, she was delightful and he was going to enjoy every minute he spent with her.

  The moment Richard stepped into the gallery his eyes were drawn to Mimi. She was wearing a long, form-fitting red gown that hugged her every curve like it was painted on. Her hair was pinned up in a french roll, with just a few tendrils hanging down to caress her long, elegant neck. She was by far the most beautiful woman in the room. What made her even more attractive was that she didn’t seem aware of the effect she had on every man who laid eyes on her.

  Richard caught her eye and put his hand to his heart, to signal she’d just taken his breath away. Then he walked over to her and pulled her close. Whispering in her ear, he crooned, “You look positively gorgeous, Mimi.”

  Smiling, she joked, “Elliot isn’t here, so you can relax.”

  He replied, “I told you making Elliot jealous was only a byproduct of my true intention. Which, if you’ll remember, is to sweep you off your feet and marry you on Saturday.”

  Mimi flirted, “Richard, you would drop dead if I accepted your proposal and actually expected you to go through with it.”

  With an arched eyebrow, he responded, “Oh yeah? Try me.”

  Just as he was about to ask her to dance, her gaze moved to the door and remained riveted to one spot. “Elliot’s here.”

  She began to step forward, but Richard held her arm. “Let him come to you. It’s the first cardinal rule of capturing a man.”

  “But he’s been hurt. Look, he’s on crutches.”

  Richard didn’t look because he didn’t want Elliot to know he was the topic of their conversation. Instead, he said, “If he weren’t okay, he wouldn’t be here. Come on, let’s make him jealous.” He leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to recite the Preamble in your ear and I want you to laugh like you’re having the time of your life.”

  Mimi giggled at the thought, but let loose in earnest when he started, “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union . . .”

  Throwing her head back in the most perfect display of joy, she begged, “Richard stop, you’re too much!”

  But he didn’t. He just continued, “Establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense . . .” Then he murmured, “Your target has spotted you and he’s on his way over.”

  Mimi spun around to see him, but Richard bodily blocked her progress, “Don’t look too eager. Make him ache with longing.” Up close, Richard immediately recognized Elliot as the international bestselling author of legal thrillers. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it earlier, when he’d first heard his name.

  Elliot Fielding was tall, distinguished, and very handsome in an aristocratic way. He stopped in front of them and simply said, “Mimi, you look lovely this evening.”

  Mimi feigned shock at the crutches under his arms and asked, “My goodness, Elliot, what happened to you?”

  He replied, “In a word, racquetball.” Then his gaze turned to Richard and he icily asked, “Who’s your friend?”

  Before Mimi had a chance to make introductions, Richard thrust out his hand and offered, “Richard Bingham. And who might you be?”

  The author replied, “Elliot Fielding. This party is being thrown in my honor.”

  “Really?” Richard responded. “How nice for you.”

  Before Elliot could comment further, an older silver-haired gentleman joined them. He kissed Mimi’s hand. “My dear, you are easily the most beautiful woman here. Move to New York and work for me. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

  Richard took the opportunity to really dig the knife in by saying, “Darling, did you hear that? Now you have no reason not to marry me.” And then he took a step back to insure he was far enough away that if the Englishman took a swing, he wouldn’t connect.

  London

  Chapter 10

  The nicest thing Philippa could say about Declan was that he wasn’t horrid. And truth be told, that was a nice thing considering how many unpleasant first encounters she’d had in the last fifteen years.

  Sephra and Pip met at the Cock and Wing at six o’clock so they could get settled at a table and order a drink before the men arrived. They wanted to make sure they’d claimed first dominion so as to make their little drama of an “accidental meeting” appear more plausible. Of course, since Liam and Sephra were married, any chance of the get-together appearing completely unplanned was pretty slim, but Pip hoped at least not to appear complicit. As it turns out, it didn’t matter.

  Liam and Declan strolled through the front door at five after seven, and by then Sephra was so mad she was seeing red. They were supposed to be there no later than ten past six and she’d been working herself into a lather ever since.

  Pip was in the loo when the men walked in, so she missed most of the scene that followed. Sephra leapt to her feet in front of her husband and snapped, “You’re late!”

&
nbsp; Liam, who tried to keep up the charade for Declan’s sake, responded, “Hello, pet, did we have plans tonight? I was just going to grab a drink with my mate, Declan, here.”

  Trying to regain her composure, his wife replied, “No, no, we didn’t have plans, I just wanted to surprise you, that’s all.” Then she indicated the free chairs at their table and added, “Why don’t you join us?”

  Declan piped in with, “Us? Who’re you here with?”

  “Oh, just my friend, Philippa, she’s in the ladies’.”

  Declan put his brief case down next to his chair and spoke directly to his co-worker, “Right, then, so is this some kind of fix up?”

  “No, no, no, nothing like that, mate,” Liam responded. “Wh . . . wh . . . why in the world would you think we were setting you up?” If his friend was somehow dim enough to believe the obvious farce, the stuttering was a surefire indicator that boldface lying was afoot.

  Declan hailed a passing waiter and ordered a pint before asking, “Is she pretty, at least?”

  That’s when Pip walked up. There was no way she could miss the strange tension in the air. In fact, it was so thick she could have cut it with a chop stick. Sephra was rocking in her chair, side-to-side like she was having some kind of psychotic break and Liam was overacting to the point of melodrama as he tried to appear both shocked and delighted by her arrival.

  Declan was the only seemingly sane one at the table. As he got to his feet to pull Pip’s chair out, he asked, “So are you in on the setup, poppet, or are you as much of a victim as I am?”

  While some women might have been offended by his candor, Pip found his forthrightness refreshing. She answered, “I’m in on it.” Then to Sephra and Liam, she added, “I see your dynamic performance skills weren’t convincing?”

  Sephra turned beet red and replied, “Not so much, no.”