Ghost 05 - Fairytale Come Alive

by Kristen Ashley

  “I hope so,” Isabella replied.

  “Get in the car, Jace. We’ve got to take Elle to Fergus’s before we get tea.”

  Prentice started to move back around the car and Isabella began to turn to get in but both of them noticed that Jason didn’t move.

  They both turned to Jason.

  “Jace, mate, in the car,” Prentice reiterated.

  “Why’s Miss Bella going to Fergus’s?” Jason asked, looking confused and, for some reason, borderline angry.

  “She’s staying there,” Prentice answered.

  “Why?” Jason asked, now borderline belligerent.

  “Because the last time I was here I didn’t get to spend any time with him,” Isabella explained.

  “But… you stay with us,” he replied as if she’d been a frequent visitor since the time of his infancy and regularly was their guest.

  Isabella’s heart started racing.

  “Pardon?” she asked.

  “When you’re here,” he answered. “You stay with us when you’re here.”

  “Jace –” Prentice began.

  Jason was not to be denied.

  Definitely belligerent, he asked Isabella, “Are you here to see Fergus or are you here to see Sally and Dad and me?”

  “Jason –” she began.

  He cut her off by demanding, “Well?”

  “Mate, she’s staying at Fergus’s,” Prentice said firmly.

  “No, she’s not. She stays with us. She’s here because Sally’s hurt. She’s here to take care of us. She can’t take care of us at Fergus’s.”

  Isabella took a step forward, saying, “Yes, I can, I’ll rent a car and –”

  Jason took a step back, locked his ten year old boy’s body and shouted, “You’re staying with us!”

  Isabella stopped moving.

  Then she drew in a breath.

  Then she chanced a glance at Prentice.

  His jaw was tight and she saw a muscle tick there. She’d never seen Prentice’s jaw do that but she figured it was probably not good.

  Prentice’s eyes sliced to her and he shocked her to her core when he jerked his chin and ordered, “Call Fergus.”

  “I don’t –” Isabella started but stopped when Prentice’s head slanted sharply to the side and his face went hard.

  Now, she decided, staring into his hard face, was not the time to defy Prentice Cameron.

  Therefore she whispered, “I’ll call Fergus.”

  * * * * *

  Fiona

  Fiona was plucking at her guitar in the children’s playroom when she sensed their return.

  Quick as a flash, she dematerialized and materialized in the great room.

  The hospital was outside the village limits.

  Fiona couldn’t get there, no matter how hard she tried (and she’d tried hard).

  She wanted news of Sally.

  She watched the door open and stared at Prentice holding four carrier bags of groceries, two in each hand.

  Fiona continued to stare.

  Groceries?

  Prentice had been to the grocery store once since Bella left mainly because it took that long to eat through the abundant provisions Bella had purchased when she’d been there.

  Fiona watched as he stopped, jerked his head at something behind him and then her ghostly mouth dropped open when Bella walked through the door, carrying a bag in each hand.

  Fiona would have been surprised that Bella was even there but she was too busy being more surprised that Bella looked like hell.

  Bella always looked good.

  Once, way back in the day, Bella got a summer cold that took her out of commission for a few days. When Fiona and her ex-boyfriend Scott had come ‘round to Prentice’s Mum’s place to see her, Bella had been lounging on the couch, nestled in Prentice’s arms. She’d been, reportedly, sick as a dog but she’d looked fabulous.

  Now she didn’t look good. She didn’t even look bad. She looked awful.

  Such was Fiona’s shock, she just floated in the great room while Bella and Prentice walked in, Jason following (also carrying three carrier bags). All of them were silent as they dumped the bags on the kitchen counter.

  Bella and Jason got busy unpacking the groceries while Prentice walked away.

  Bella saw him going.

  She started toward him, saying, “Prentice, please don’t. I’ll get my bags.”

  She stopped talking when Prentice sent her a look that would turn a gaily running creek into an ice rink in a blink.

  Prentice turned away and walked back out of the house.

  Bella bit her lip and walked back into the kitchen.

  “Dad’s been in kind of a bad mood for a few weeks,” Jason muttered, Bella sighed and Fiona laughed for the first time since Bella left (except for when the kids got their boxes from Bella, firstly she laughed then because the children had been so happy and secondly because Prentice had looked so cross and then he’d brooded (more) for entire days and Fiona, for some reason, found that hilarious).

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you take your books upstairs and I’ll deal with this?” Bella replied.

  “I’ll help,” Jason was still muttering and he was also putting groceries away with a determination that both Fiona and Bella noted when they glanced at Jason no one could undermine.

  Intelligently, Bella didn’t try.

  Fiona watched (again with surprise) as Prentice brought in Bella’s two suitcases and carried them down the hall to the guest suite while Jason and Bella unpacked groceries.

  What in bloody hell was going on?

  She could have shouted it but, of course, no one would answer.

  She’d just have to watch and see.

  Prentice returned and disappeared in his study.

  Bella immediately began making tea once the groceries were unpacked and Jason ran his book bag upstairs.

  Fiona took her opportunity and zoomed close to Bella.

  How’s Sally? she shouted.

  All right, so Bella was there out of the blue after the whole fiasco at the wedding. She looked like death warmed over and she was staying with Prentice and Jason.

  But… priorities.

  Bella could hear her, even once spoke directly to her and Fiona needed news of her daughter.

  Bella didn’t answer. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even twitch.

  Bella! How’s Sally? Please tell me, Fiona shouted again, this time, louder (but still silent, of course).

  Fiona waited.

  Bella kept rubbing butter into the skin of the chicken, giving no indication she heard one single word Fiona said.

  Fiona groaned in frustration.

  Before she could ask again, Jason returned and Fiona was astounded to see her son immediately began to help Bella with tea (something he never did for his mother unless threatened with certain death). All the while they worked Bella quietly gave Jason directions that he followed to the letter.

  Bella had the chicken in the oven (stuffed with delicious-looking stuffing), Jason had cleaned and carefully chopped the broccoli and carrots under Bella’s relentlessly vigilant eye at Jason wielding a knife and was cutting up the potatoes that Bella had peeled when Prentice walked into the kitchen.

  He stopped and stood for awhile, watching this activity, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

  And Fiona knew what he saw that made him so annoyed.

  Firstly, Jason was helping with dinner. That was worth putting in your journal (if you had one, which Prentice did not). But, more to the point, he was helping Bella with dinner.

  Secondly, Bella looked ready to drop. You could actually see that the woman had no energy. How she was remaining upright and cooking was a mystery.

  Prentice, Fiona knew, was also tired. He hadn’t slept in two days. He hadn’t slept well in three weeks.

  But, as tired as Prentice had to be, Bella was more tired it was plain to see.

  And it wasn’t only from worry over Sally being knocked over.
<
br />   Life, Fiona knew, was finally wearing Isabella Austin Evangahlala down.

  Just what Fiona needed, something else to worry about.

  Who said you could rest when you were dead? Whoever it was, they lied.

  “Jace, give me a minute, I want to talk to Elle,” Prentice said to his son.

  Fiona watched Bella’s shoulders get tight as Jason turned to give his father an assessing look.

  Prentice held his son’s gaze and Fiona would have laughed if she wasn’t holding her non-existent ghost breath.

  They were having a showdown.

  The last time Jason was with Bella, her father walked into wedding reception and struck her so forcefully she went down to her hands and knees. After that hideous event, she’d disappeared for three weeks coming back looking like the walking dead.

  Now, it was plain to see, Jason wasn’t leaving Bella’s side even at his father’s command, not if he thought something would harm her even if that something was his father.

  Fiona had only nine years to raise her son right and she was pretty pleased with herself that she’d accomplished this feat (with Prentice’s help, of course, but, at that moment, Fiona decided to take all the credit).

  “I’ll finish the potatoes, Jason. Do as your Dad says, okay?” Bella said quietly and Fiona looked to her to see she was watching the showdown and it had alarmed her.

  Prentice’s eyes cut to Bella and his mouth got tight as Jason turned his assessing look to her.

  Then Jason nodded and loped up the stairs.

  Bella went back to the potatoes and started cutting.

  Prentice moved in close (as did Fiona) and Fiona watched as he took the knife right out of her hand. Her body jolted, her surprised eyes turned to Prentice and she opened her mouth to speak.

  Prentice got there first. “I don’t need your help making Jason mind.”

  Well, Fiona thought, that wasn’t a good start.

  Bella’s mouth stayed open not because she wanted to say something but because she was shocked.

  “Go to bed,” Prentice ordered.

  Bella’s eyes got wide, she closed her mouth then opened it to ask, “What?”

  “Go to bed. I’ll finish this.”

  Bella glanced with bewilderment at the potatoes then back at Prentice and, even Fiona had to admit, regardless of how drawn she looked, she was still adorable.

  “But I’m cooking,” she replied, clearly confused.

  “You’re about to pass out.”

  Light dawned on her exhausted mind.

  She looked away and started to turn from Prentice, saying, “I’m fine.”

  Prentice stopped her by curling his fingers on her upper arm. Her head tilted back to look at him.

  “Elle, I said, go to bed.”

  Her cheeks flushed with anger as she returned, “And I said, I’m fine.”

  Prentice moved closer to her at the same time he brought Bella closer to him with his hand on her arm.

  Fiona watched Bella stiffen.

  “Go to bed,” he repeated.

  “I’m finishing tea.”

  “Go to bed.”

  “No!” she snapped.

  His face dipped close to hers as he made his threat and, since Fiona knew Prentice didn’t make threats, it was more a promise.

  “You can go to bed or I’ll carry you there.”

  Bella’s mouth dropped open and so did Fiona’s.

  He wasn’t joking.

  “I’m very serious,” Prentice warned, sounding very, very serious.

  There it was; he wasn’t joking.

  “Prentice, I don’t see why –”

  Prentice interrupted her, his voice harsh. “I have enough to worry about and so does my son, without either of us having to worry about you.”

  Well, Fiona had to admit, that was true enough.

  The color went out of Bella’s cheeks again and Fiona reckoned Bella agreed.

  “Go to bed,” Prentice repeated.

  Bella looked to the oven, her shoulders fell then she looked back at Prentice.

  “The chicken has another hour to cook. It needs to be basted every fifteen minutes. The vegetables –” she began.

  “Aye, I’ll do it.”

  “The chicken has to be cooked through, if it isn’t –”

  He cut her off by saying, low and rumbly, “Elle.”

  She snapped her mouth shut.

  Then she nodded.

  Prentice let go of her arm, she started to walk away, stopped and turned back.

  “Are you going back to Sally after tea?” she asked.

  “Aye,” he answered shortly.

  She hesitated and crossed her arms on her middle, fingers curled around her elbows. She licked her lips, stared at the floor a second then took a deep breath and enquired in a voice so soft, even Fiona, with extra-sensory abilities due to her ghost-dom, could almost not hear, “If I’m awake, can I come with you?”

  Prentice glared at her.

  Bella withstood the glare but Fiona saw her swallow nervously.

  Then he grunted, “Aye.”

  Her lips turned up in an almost smile.

  Then she left the room.

  Prentice stared after her for a long time.

  Then he tore his hand through his hair as he bent his head to stare at his boots.

  Then he ruined tea.

  * * * * *

  Isabella was awake when the food was ready.

  She just laid there, eyes open, face sad and Fiona shouted at her to get up, get up, get up.

  Fiona didn’t know if it was her shouting or the sounds that came from the kitchen through the opened doors to the guest suite but Isabella finally heaved a big sigh, got up, wandered down and ate with them.

  The chicken looked heavenly.

  The vegetables were way overdone.

  Neither Isabella nor Jason uttered a word mainly because Prentice’s brooding glower did not invite this.

  The three of them went to the hospital after tea.

  When they came back a lot later, Fiona didn’t have to shout her questions to Isabella in hopes of finding out how Sally was.

  The worry etched into their faces told the tale.

  Chapter Eleven

  Celebrity Gossip Magazine

  Isabella

  “Can I have Miss Bella’s chocolate cake for breakfast while I’m recupralating?” Sally asked from her place, buckled safely in the back of Prentice’s Range Rover.

  Isabella looked over at the child as Jason twisted around from the front and corrected, “Recuperating.”

  “That’s what I said, recupralating,” Sally shot back.

  Isabella smiled.

  From behind the wheel, Prentice replied, “No.”

  Sally’s face turned obstinate then it brightened as a new idea came to her. “Since I got knocked over by a car, can I have a horse?”

  “No,” Prentice answered.

  “A puppy?” Sally tried.

  “No,” Prentice repeated.

  “A kitty?” Sally pushed.

  “No, Sally,” Prentice returned.

  “A fish?” Sally cried in desperation.

  Prentice chuckled before he replied, “We’ll see about a fish.”

  Sally smiled cheerfully at Isabella and Isabella smiled back.

  A miracle had happened.

  When the doctors woke Sally after her brain swelling had gone down, she was groggy, in pain and confused but mostly she was Sally.

  They did tests and found no memory loss, her concentration and recall were excellent, in fact all functions were a go.

  The doctors were stunned.

  Prentice, Jason, Debs, Annie, Dougal, Fergus and Prentice and Fiona’s families (not to mention Isabella) were relieved.

  A miracle.

  Isabella had never witnessed a miracle. In all her life, the only kind of miracle she’d experienced was Dougal and Annie finding their way back to each other.

  Isabella was used to tragedy and disaster.
She didn’t know what to do with a miracle.

  She found she didn’t have a great deal of trouble coping.

  The last week had gone by in a blur.

  If she wasn’t at the hospital with Sally, she was at the market (there always seemed to be something they needed in the house that wasn’t in the house, they ran out of salt, they ran out of laundry detergent, they ran out of furniture polish, it was never-ending).

  If she wasn’t at the market, she was mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, doing laundry, ironing, stripping beds, making beds or dusting. Prentice, it was obvious, had done very little (if any) housework since she’d left.

  If she wasn’t doing that, she was (at Prentice’s surprising request) running Jason to school, from school or to football practice in her rental car when Prentice couldn’t do it because he was at work or had to be at the hospital for one of Sally’s tests.

  If she wasn’t doing that, she was spending time with Sally or Fergus and Annie.

  Another, smaller miracle had occurred that week too.

  For, when she was in town or waiting with the mothers and fathers for football practice to end, the villagers didn’t avoid her or give her nasty looks. People she knew way back when (and some she didn’t know), smiled at her when they caught her eye. Some said hello. A few even engaged her in conversation, asking about Sally, Jason and Prentice and even how she, Isabella, was bearing up under the strain (and offering help!).

  Isabella figured this about face had a good deal to do with the fact that her father humiliated her in front of the entire village.

  Which, in itself, was refreshed humiliation.

  However, Isabella was too exhausted to focus on that. Instead, she focused on their kindness which was a great deal easier to deal with.

  Even though her days were mentally and physically strenuous, her nights were spent tossing and turning. She rarely slept and most of the time forgot to eat (probably due to the fact that she wasn’t hungry).

  Isabella was running on empty. She knew this but had no clue what to do about it or any time to come up with a solution.

  Except when she was tossing and turning but most of that time was spent thinking about Prentice sleeping in his own bed under the same roof not far away and how much she’d like to crawl out of her bed and into his and what she’d like to do with him there. She thought both about the semi-appropriate things, like giving him the affection he surely needed, and the very inappropriate things, like putting her hands and mouth on him.