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

by Whitney Dineen

Liam felt it necessary to add, “Seph here flipped a biscuit when we showed up. She accused me of being late. It’s kind of hard to appear surprised to see one another after that.”

  Shamefaced, Sephra apologized, “I’m truly sorry. I’ll understand if either of you wants to leave.”

  Declan smiled weakly at Pip and offered, “Nah, the damage is done. I might as well have a drink while I’m here.”

  Philippa knew at that moment Declan’s mind was closed to the idea of her as a love interest. To his credit though, he contributed to the conversation and even ordered a second round. By nine, he picked up his kit, bid everyone a good night, and left.

  The threesome that remained sat quietly for several moments before Sephra offered, “I think that went well.”

  Liam and Pip looked at her like she’d just gone fully round the bend. Pip inserted, “It’s not the worst first meeting I’ve ever had.”

  Her friend’s husband looked aghast and replied, “Really?” Then he patted Pip’s hand and added, “Poor Pip. Because hand to heart, that’s the worst I’ve ever witnessed.”

  Trying to retain a sense of humor, Pip laughed, “Of course it was, Liam. After all, you’re the happily married one. Believe me, I consider it a good date when the man doesn’t run from the room screaming that I’m a witch because I just happen to know he’s siphoning funds from the company’s account and I’ve warned him, via a message from the great beyond, to stop.”

  Pip stood up to leave when both of her friends seemed at a loss for what to say next. Their looks of pity were more than she could bear.

  As she walked out of the pub, Pip was immediately joined by Bertram. He whistled under his phantom breath and offered, “That didn’t go very well, did it, love?”

  “You were watching?” she accused.

  “Course I was. I mean, you know, I have a vested interest in you and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Bertram,” Pip replied, “what would you have done had I not been doing okay?” And then for clarification, she asked, “And what exactly is your definition of not okay?”

  Her contact chuckled, “I guess I would have considered you in trouble if you’d, say, begun to spontaneously combust. Of course then I would have offered aid by throwing a bucket of water on you.”

  Pip couldn’t contain her laughter, “Thank you, Bertram. It’s nice to know you wouldn’t let me burn to death. Really, such a comfort.”

  “Truthfully, love,” he consoled, “he wasn’t the one for you.”

  “No?” Pip asked, “Was he gay, too? Or wait, I know, he’s Hans Gruber’s great-great grandson. Or maybe he has mommy issues . . .” Then she asked, “Why wasn’t he the one for me, Bertram?”

  He smiled mischievously, “Because, love, I know who the one for you is, and believe me when I say, it wasn’t him.”

  Pip’s eyes opened wide, “You do? Then why don’t you tell me and put me out of my misery?”

  He answered, “It’s not the right time.”

  “When exactly will it be the right time?” she inquired.

  “You’ll know, love. You’ll know.”

  Pip responded, “Just tell me it will be before I’m forty.” Then she begged, “Please, tell it’ll be before I’m forty!”

  Bertram smiled, “Oh sure, pet. Well before then.”

  Pip closed her eyes that night with a mild feeling of contentment. At least she wouldn’t spend her middle years alone. That was something, wasn’t it?

  New York

  Chapter 11

  Richard walked into the café five minutes early. As usual, Eliza was already there waiting for him. They hadn’t seen each other for two weeks due to rivaling work schedules, so the friends were both looking forward to catching up.

  When Eliza saw Richard, she jumped up and threw her arms around him, before exclaiming, “Look at you, as gorgeous as ever! You look very James Bond in repose today.”

  Richard smiled, “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Then he asked, “I’m assuming your radiance has something to do with Spencer? Not that I can imagine how that’s humanly possible, mind you.”

  “Oh, Richard, you crack me up. I know Spence has a bit of a sordid past, but I promise you, I’m a very good judge of character.” Seeing her friend’s eyebrow raise in question, she added, “He treats me like gold.”

  Richard replied, “I don’t want to get too personal here, but Spencer has a way of getting intimate too soon, and I don’t think he and his partners ever really get to know one another before it’s too late.”

  Eliza smiled mischievously, “Don’t worry, I’ve worked that out for myself already and I’ve designed a plan.”

  “And that would be?”

  “No sex for six months,” she responded.

  Richard choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I’m going to force Spencer to get to know the real me, and I’m sure as heck going to get to know the real him before we consummate our relationship in the physical sense.”

  “And you think that’s going to take six months?” Richard asked incredulously.

  “No, but I think that if we don’t have the pressure of all the physical stuff, we’ll really learn how to focus on each other. Don’t you?”

  Richard shrugged his shoulders, “Possibly.” Then he added, “Or maybe you’ll both just implode from pent-up frustration. Does Spencer know about your plan?”

  Eliza laughed, “Yes, but he thinks he can persuade me to change my mind.”

  “Can he?” Richard asked. “I mean, six months is a very long time.”

  His friend replied, “I don’t want to change my mind, Richard. I’m ready to find the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with and I don’t want to make the same mistakes I’ve made in the past. I want this to be forever.”

  “And you really think Spencer could be the one?”

  “Yes, I do,” she answered. “But I won’t know for sure until I get to know him better and the only way to do that is by spending time with him, out of bed.”

  Richard raised his coffee cup in a toast, “To true love—may it find us both as painlessly as possible.”

  Eliza raised her cup as well, and replied, “Hear, hear!” Then she demanded, “Now tell me about your love life and don’t spare any details.”

  Richard told his friend all about meeting the gorgeous redhead from out of town. “Of course, she’s in love with someone else.” At Eliza’s crestfallen look, he added, “Don’t pity me. I’m not despondent about it. It’s actually been a shot in the arm.” He explained, “I’m surrounded by people who are finding each other despite all of the roadblocks life seems to throw in the way, and that’s kind of invigorating. I mean, really, how long can it possibly be before it’s my turn?”

  Eliza hailed a passing waiter, “This wonderful new perspective calls for apple fritters.” She asked Richard, “How many do you want?”

  “Fourteen,” he joked. “I’m that optimistic.”

  Richard went on every first meeting his matchmaker set up, but there were only two second dates. Both of those fizzled before the entrées were served. Richard discovered there were a lot of really dull women in New York; they seemed to be devoid of joy and full of tension. Why were they all so darn serious and intense? Where were the ones who liked to laugh and play? Were there any happy ones left in any of the boroughs?

  Richard continued his friendship with Mimi by phone, counseling her on her relationship with Elliot. He decided if someone as uptight and well, English, as Elliot, could attract a woman as vibrant and vivacious as Mimi, there had to be hope for him, or so he wanted to believe.

  Just as he was pondering where in the world his other half could be his phone rang. It was Mimi. He answered, “Darling, how are you?” Then he teased “Have you finally decided to move to New York and leave that stuck-up Englishman for me?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I have.” Then she burst into great big gut-wrenching tears.

  “Mimi,” R
ichard replied, “I was only joking. What’s happened with Elliot? Are you serious about moving to New York?”

  After several sobs, hiccups, and a snort or two, she answered, “He asked Beatrice to marry him. He’s engaged.”

  “What?!” Richard demanded. “He’s engaged to Beatrice? How can that be? It’s obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together that he’s in love with you.”

  “I thought so, too,” she replied. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “Oh Mimi, I’m so sorry. I really truly am,” Richard offered.

  His friend eventually replied, “I know you are, Richard. I’m just glad I’m going to have a friend in New York.” Then she started to cry again. “I’m going to need one.”

  For the briefest of moments, Richard wondered if there might be a future for him and Mimi, after all. But then he realized she would never be truly happy with anyone other than Elliot. She’d found her other half, and anyone else would always be second best.

  Richard didn’t want to be anyone’s second best. He wanted to be some woman’s everything. So he vowed to be a good friend to Mimi and try to help her recover from her heartbreak. He’d take her out, show her the town, and help her adjust to her new life, but he wouldn’t count on her for his future happiness.

  When Richard hung up the phone, he called Eliza. “I’m ready for you to set me up with one of your friends. But please,” he begged, “let her know how to laugh.” Then he thought to add, “And make sure she likes to eat. I’m sick of going out to dinner with women who claim to be full after only a few bites.” Richard started to think the reason so many of the women in New York City were grumpy was because they were starving.

  London

  Chapter 12

  Victoria sat at her vanity, expertly applying makeup for the prime minister’s ball, when her daughter walked in. She greeted, “Hello, darling, I haven’t seen you in ages. What have you been up to?”

  “Oh, you know, the same thing I’m always up to,” she responded evasively. Then she sat down on the plush carpet next to her mother’s chair, “I just got your message that you wanted to chat. What’s up?”

  “I spoke with Elliot this afternoon and you won’t believe it. He and Beatrice are engaged!” Clapping her hands together excitedly, she added, “Isn’t that wonderful? Beatrice will be your new sister and my new daughter.”

  Pip didn’t believe it. There’s no way Elliot and Beatrice could have all of a sudden turned into one another’s soul mates. She knew they didn’t love each another in the romantic sense. Why in the world would Elliot have proposed? And, even stranger, why would Beatrice have accepted? Something wasn’t right. So she replied, “Mum, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but of course I’m not excited. Elliot and Beatrice should never marry one another.”

  The countess turned around and stared at her daughter intently, “Philippa, dear, is it possible your contacts are wrong? I’m sure even the afterlife isn’t right all of the time.”

  “Mum, every spirit I’ve ever asked has said the same thing. Elliot and Beatrice are good friends, nothing more.”

  “Well, I want you to ask your new contact. Ask him right now while I’m in the room. In fact, I insist upon it.” Working herself into a bit of a dither, she added, “I want to be able to get excited about this engagement and enjoy it, and quite frankly, you’re ruining that for me.”

  Pip sat up and moved to a love seat by the window. Ignoring her mother entirely, she intoned, “Bertram, the queen has requested an audience. If you could, I’d be most grateful if you’d join us.”

  Bertram immediately popped up next to her. “Of course, love. What do you need?”

  Indicating her mother, she replied, “My mother won’t accept the fact that my brother has gotten himself engaged to the wrong woman. She’s convinced the entire afterworld is lying to her because, you know, apparently they have nothing better to do.”

  Bertram stared intently at the countess the entire time Philippa was talking. He watched as her lovely face turned stern and unyielding, her back going ramrod straight with anger. When Pip was done having her say, he said, “Tell your mum she’s got a stellar set of boozies for a gal her age.”

  “What?!” Philippa gasped. “I will do no such thing!”

  Victoria interrupted, “He said I’m right, didn’t he? I knew it. Pip, I have no idea why you won’t embrace the truth, but this Bertram agreed with me just now, didn’t he?”

  “No, mother, he didn’t,” Pip replied. “Believe me, he didn’t.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me what he said?” she demanded. “Clearly he has an opinion and you don’t want me to know what it is.”

  “Oh, he has an opinion all right. But I promise you won’t want to hear it.”

  Bertram cajoled, “Come on, love, tell her. Trust me on this.”

  Pip grumbled, “Bertram, I swear you have no idea who you’re dealing with. My mother will not respond well to this.”

  Victoria begged, “Please, darling, tell me. I promise not to be cross, even if you’re right. I just want to put this whole Elliot/Beatrice debate to rest once and for all.”

  “Even if I’m right and you’re wrong?” Pip asked.

  After taking a deep breath, the countess answered, “Yes, even then. I promise I’ll take your current contact’s word as the final say on the matter.”

  Pip rolled her eyes and responded, “He said you have beautiful breasts for a woman your age.”

  Victoria sat a little taller and looked down her slip. Pushing her chest out a bit, she exclaimed, “What a lovely compliment!”

  “What?!” her daughter gasped. “Mother, a dead man just admired your bosoms. You should be insulted, not flattered.”

  “Darling,” her mother responded, “I’m a sixty-six-year-old woman. I cannot tell you how long it’s been since a strange man has complimented my feminine attributes.” Smoothing down the silk on her underthings, she added, “You have to take it where you can get it.”

  Bertram interrupted, “Tell her she doesn’t look a day over fifty and if I was still around, I’d have a go at her.”

  “I will do no such thing, Bertram! This whole conversation is highly inappropriate.”

  He answered, “But if you don’t tell her, you’ll get spots, love, and truthfully, it’s not your best look.”

  “What did he say? Tell me!” the countess begged.

  “Tell her,” Bertram commanded.

  “All right, fine. Both of you just leave me alone.” Looking at her mother, she inhaled deeply and relayed, “He said you don’t look a day over fifty and if he was still around he’d have a go at you.”

  “How charming!” the countess replied. Seeing her daughters shocked expression, she added, “I’m still a woman, you know? Positive reinforcements are always appreciated.”

  “Doesn’t Father, um, er, reinforce you enough?”

  Victoria replied, “Of course Archibald is very complimentary, but he has to be. He’s been married to me for forty-five years. Outside opinions seem to go the wayside over the years and it’s lovely to hear one once in a while, especially such a nice one.”

  Pip conceded, “I can see that. But still, doesn’t it seem a bit unfitting to be propositioned by a ghost in your own boudoir?”

  “Not in the least,” her mother answered. “Now ask him about Elliot and Beatrice.”

  Bertram replied, “Tell her they aren’t meant to be. There’s someone else for both of them and they’ll never find true happiness if they wed one another.”

  Philippa shared the message and watched as her mother visibly deflated, “Blast it! Although, I suppose I did promise to believe him.”

  Bertram added, “Tell her Beatrice’s cancer is back. It’s the only reason Elliot proposed. He wanted to assure her he wouldn’t abandon her during her time of need.”

  “Oh, Bertram, no. Please not that,” Pip whispered.

  “What?” Victoria demanded. “What did he say?”

  “Tell he
r,” her contact commanded.

  So she did, and for the longest time mother and daughter simply held one another, each lost in her own thoughts. Eventually, the countess got up and crawled into bed. “Tell your father I’m not up to going out tonight, will you?”

  Philippa kissed her mother on the cheek and lovingly placed a blanket over her. “Sure, Mum. I’ll tell him.”

  As she walked down the grand staircase to her father’s library, she complained, “This is so unfair, Bertram. Beatrice is such a lovely person. Why in the world does she have to go through this all again?”

  Her contact replied, “I know it seems unjust, love. But I promise you, she’ll know her soulmate before she moves to the next world. And so will your brother.

  Pip woke up in the middle of the night with a burning need to talk to Elliot. As it was six hours earlier in America, she decided to just call him.

  He answered his phone immediately, “Philippa, it must be the middle of the night at home. Are you well? Are Mother and Father well?”

  “We’re all better than you are, I’m afraid,” she replied.

  “What do you mean by that?” he demanded.

  “Mother told me about your engagement, Elliot. What were you thinking? You can’t just ask a woman to marry you because her cancer has come back.”

  “How do you know that? Did Beatrice call you?” her brother demanded.

  “No, Elliot, she didn’t. My new contact told me.”

  Any talk of his sister’s strange ability caused Elliot great discomfort, so he replied, “I don’t want to talk about your illness, Pip. I don’t know what’s really going on there, but I do know it’s not normal.”

  “Of course it’s not normal, you arse! If it were, you’d believe me and wouldn’t act like such a sodding idiot every time I mention something about the dead.” She huffed, “You’re going to learn the truth someday, Elliot, and then I hope you feel just wretched about the way you’ve mistreated me all these years.”

  Elliot snapped, “Philippa, I’ve never treated you with anything other than love and respect. How dare you accuse me of such a horrid thing?”