Whats a Ghoul to Do

by Victoria Laurie

  "I gave him the marry-me-or-I'm-gone ultimatum, and he proposed."

  "You're engaged?" I said, ready to throw my arms around her in a giant hug.

  "No."

  "No?"

  "I said no."

  "Did I miss something?"

  "M.J.," she said, turning to me. "I realized the moment I gave him the speech about taking the plunge or I'm out of here that it was the wrong way to get what I wanted. What I want… what I've always wanted … is for it to be John's idea. For him to love me so much that he was willing to make the commitment all on his own."

  "So what happened?" I asked, reaching out to squeeze her arm.

  "I left him."

  "You didn't!" I said.

  "Yes. We're done," she said as I noticed the smallest quiver to her bottom lip before she cleared her throat and shook her head a little, trying to hold it together.

  I sat there, stunned. Teeko had been dating John so long that I didn't think they'd ever split up. Truthfully, I'd always thought that if the end ever came, it would be John's idea. The fact that Karen had had the courage to walk away from something she'd wanted so much—and a man she'd absolutely adored—floored me. "I am so sorry," was all I could say.

  Teeko smiled sadly at me and reached over to squeeze my hand. "Don't be," she whispered. "I'm fine."

  I cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her.

  "Seriously," she said, and the smile brightened just a bit.

  "So now what?" I asked her.

  "Now I let Mama fix me up with whomever she wants," she said, indicating the paperwork she'd been working on when I walked up.

  I noticed that it was one of Mama's profile sheets, where single applicants, like gullible me, filled out an extensive questionnaire. "You're really just going to throw yourself out there?" I asked.

  "You betcha," Teeko said with a smile. "You can't let life pass you by, M.J. You've got to become an active player in creating your own future. You, more than anyone, should understand that."

  She had me there. How many grounded spirits had I come across who were simply stuck because they refused to move forward, while all around them the living marched on with their lives as the spirits just resentfully watched?

  With a sigh I said, "When you're right, you're right, Teeko. Okay, I'll go on this date, but tell me about the guy. Is he normal?"

  Karen smiled brightly at me. "Oh, he's so not normal you're sure to fall for him." She laughed.

  I cocked my head at her. "He's weird?"

  "No. Most definitely not weird. He's fabulous, and completely not what you would pick for yourself."

  I scowled at her. "So why would you think he's a good match for me?"

  "Because your track record proves that you just can't pick 'em, M.J."

  She had me there. "What does he look like?"

  "Nope," she said, holding up her hand and shaking her head. "You will get no details from me. You'll just have to approach this with an open mind."

  "That has never been my strong suit," I admitted.

  "Which is exactly why you'll need to adopt it as your new attitude. Now, I've got to go. Call me Sunday and let me know how it went." And with that she got up, gave me a peck on the cheek, and headed over to Mama's to turn in her profile. I watched the fire in the fireplace for a while, thinking about all she'd said and struggling with how right she was.

  Gilley had been saying the same thing to me for years, and after a while he'd given up, knowing I was just too damn stubborn to change. "It's all set," I heard off to my left.

  I looked up and saw Mama back at my table, her excitement bubbling over as she bounced again on the balls of her feet. "What's all set?" I asked.

  "Tomorrow night. He's going to meet you at Tango's at six thirty sharp."

  Ah. The blind date. Maybe I could milk Mama for details. "So tell me about this fabulous man," I said, putting on my most inviting smile.

  "Oh, no," Mama said with a chuckle. "Teeko told me not to tell you anything. She doesn't even want me to tell you his name, because she knows you'll just have Gilley cyberspy on him and find lots of excuses to get out of going."

  Crap. Foiled again. "Okay, so how will I know him?" I asked, trying to hide the impatience in my voice.

  "He'll be wearing black," Dell said.

  "That narrows it down."

  "I told him you'd be wearing the same."

  "Ah," I said, giving her a look. "Funeral theme. This should be buckets of fun!"

  "Try to have a good time," Mama said, a plea in her voice.

  I pulled in the sarcasm and reached for her hand, "Okay, Mama. Sorry. I'll do my best."

  "I have a good feeling about this one, M.J.," she said.

  I failed to remind her that she'd had a good feeling about the other five duds she'd fixed me up with and simply nodded. "Okay, Mama. I'll be there, in black, at six thirty."

  Mama seemed to relax and leaned in to give me a hug. "That's my girl," she said.

  "Awww. A Hallmark moment," I heard behind her, and I looked up to see that Gilley had arrived. "What'd I miss?" he asked as he plopped down in the seat Teeko had been sitting in.

  "I've set M.J. up on a date," Mama said, releasing me.

  "And she let you?" Gilley said, giving me a wink.

  "She had very little choice in the matter. Karen and I double-teamed her."

  "Ooooh. You play rough," Gilley said. "When's the blessed event?"

  "Tomorrow night. Gilley, would you make sure she's dressed and ready?" Mama said.

  "What's the attire?" Gilley asked.

  "I'm sitting right here, you know," I groused.

  Mama ignored me. "Black. I know she'll go for pants and a baggy sweater, but maybe you can get her into something a little more va-va?"

  "Leave it to me, Mama. I'll even add some voom, no charge."

  "I'm leaving," I said, getting up from the table.

  "You're not going anywhere, M.J. We need to talk," Gilley said sternly.

  Mama glanced at him, then back at me, and said, "I'd better get back to the counter and help the Captain. The lunch rush should start any second." And with that she was gone.

  Reluctantly, I sat back down and looked at my business partner. I could tell Gilley was miffed. I knew I'd played it wrong when I'd announced to him that we wouldn't be taking the Sable case and bolted for the nearest exit. "What's on your mind, Gil?"

  "Don't be coy, M.J. We had a solid lead with Dr. Sable. What the hell happened?"

  I took a covert sip of my now-cold Starbucks coffee and shrugged my shoulders. "We couldn't reach an agreement."

  "Was it over price? Because we could still cut him a deal."

  "No, it wasn't price."

  Gilley waited me out, and I did my best to fill the pregnant silence by stirring my coffee. "I'm waiting," Gilley said after a few moments.

  I sighed and met his eyes. "He wanted to be a part of the bust."

  Gilley gave me a puzzled look. "And?"

  "And nothing," I said, looking back at the fire. "I didn't want him to get in our way, so I turned him down."

  Gilley took several seconds to sputter incoherently, before raising his voice a few octaves. "You cannot be serious!"

  I scowled at him, "Pretty sure I am, Gil."

  "M.J.," he began, his voice low and irritated. "Do you realize we haven't had a really good paycheck in several weeks?"

  "I just got paid on the Kettleman job today," I interjected.

  "Which barely catches us up to current!" Gilley screeched. Seeing several eyes look in our direction, he cleared his voice and tried again. "We cannot keep doing this," he said to me. "I got into this partnership with you because I thought it had potential, and from day one you have set limits that have restricted our income. I have a mortgage to pay, and so do you!" he chastised.

  "I'm fully aware of my financial obligations," I snapped back.

  "Then why, M.J.? Why would you turn down such a good and profitable job?"

  I frowned as I searched f
or a reason Gilley would accept. "Because," was all I could come up with.

  "Because why?" Gilley pressed.

  "Because we work alone, Gil! The minute we invite our clients along on a bust is the moment we lose control."

  Gilley shook his head back and forth. I could tell he was struggling with his patience. "You can't have it both ways, my friend," he finally said.

  "I'm sorry?" I asked.

  "You cannot do what you do and expect that there is only one way you're going to get the job done. If we turn down everyone but the ones who fit specific criteria, then we'll go bankrupt."

  "I didn't realize we were doing so poorly," I snapped.

  "That's because I do the books. You won't allow me to book readings anymore, which quite frankly was keeping us solidly in the black. M.J., you've got to be willing to compromise. Running your own business is tough enough, and may I remind you that we live in one of the most expensive cities in the country?"

  I didn't reply, but simply glared at him. Apparently today was Lecture M.J. Day.

  Gilley ignored the glare and continued. "Now, I want you to think about what I've said. And you think hard, because if you want me to continue in this partnership then you're going to have to be willing to make some allowances for our clients."

  "So it's come to that?" I asked, shocked that Gilley was playing hardball.

  "It's come to that," Gil said, and stood up. "I'm headed to a meeting with another group of Realtors. Doc's been fed and watered. I'll call you later and we can discuss options for your date on Saturday, and by options I mean get your MasterCard out, because there is nothing even remotely suitable hanging in that closet of yours."

  "Gil—" I started, wanting to say something that would make things all right between us.

  "Go home and think about what I've said," Gil said, cutting me off. And with a quick kiss on the top of my head he was off.

  I sat there in Mama Dell's for a little while, wondering why the whole world wanted to pick on me, then decided to shake myself out of my funk by taking a walk. With a wave to Mama Dell, I headed out the door and began to walk the few blocks that make up Arlington Center.

  I gazed without looking into storefronts made up of quaint boutiques and gift shops as my thoughts looped around the conversations I'd had that morning. First with Dr. Sable, then with Teeko, and finally with Gilley. I think I was most upset by Gilley's ultimatum—not that I could blame him.

  It also sucked that I knew he was right on the money. If Gil left, I'd be totally screwed—the man even balanced my checkbook. What was I going to do without him?

  As my thoughts continued to swirl I looked up at the storefront I was passing and stopped short. There, in the window, was a gorgeous black cocktail dress. I snickered to myself, because it was so obvious the universe had set me up, then took a big breath and walked inside. I was met by a pleasantly plump young woman who couldn't have been a day over nineteen.

  "Hi!" she said enthusiastically.

  "Good afternoon," I replied.

  "Need some help?"

  "I saw that dress in the window," I said, pointing behind me. "Can I try it on?"

  "Sure! What are you, about a size four?"

  "About that," I said, thanking myself for my daily run and a healthy metabolism.

  "The dress runs small, so I'll bring you a six just in case."

  Gee, just when I was riding a sizing high. "Great. Where do I go… ?" I asked, turning my head around the small boutique.

  "Right over there," she said, pointing to a curtained room off to my left.

  Three minutes later I was staring at myself in the mirror and thinking that I must definitely be crazy. The dress was way too short. Okay, so it was also way too low. This was a dress Teeko would wear in a heartbeat, but did it really suit me? Just then there was a knock on the outside of the dressing room. "How's it going in there?"

  "Uh …" I said as I scowled at the mirror.

  Without warning the curtain was pulled aside and the salesclerk poked her head in. "Ohmigod! You are totally smokin' in that dress!" she squealed.

  I winced at the pitch in her voice. "You don't think it's too short?"

  "No way, you have great legs."

  "Too low?"

  "For you or a nun?" she asked. Ah, a clever nineteen-year-old.

  "I'm serious," I said, hiking up the neckline.

  "So am I," she said, stepping forward to gently tug the neckline back down. "Honest, you look amazing. Did you know you could be Sandra Bullocks's sister?"

  I get that all the time, and while I love Sandy and think she's a brilliant actress, after so many years of being remembered as the chick who looks just like her, I was wishing my face were a little less familiar. "So I've been told," I said, turning around to view my rear. "Does my butt look big?"

  "No," she said with a giggle. "And even if it did, guys are into big butts. You've so gotta buy this dress!"

  "Gilley would be proud," I said quietly as I turned back and tried to square my shoulders so it would appear I was someone confident enough to wear this type of thing every day.

  "Who?"

  "No one." I sighed. "Okay, I'll take it, but just in case, what's your return policy?"

  * * * *

  Later that night, while Gilley cooked dinner at my place, I modeled the dress for him. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. "Dial nine-one-one!" he shouted.

  "What?" I asked, alarmed.

  "Emergency?" he said, putting an imaginary phone to his ear. "Come quick! We've got a woman on fire over here!"

  "I knew it," I said, heading back into the bedroom. "I'm returning it in the morning."

  I heard quick footsteps behind me, and just as I was about to turn around I heard a snipping sound.

  "Hey!" I yelled, whirling around to catch Gilley, scissors in one hand and sales tag in the other. "Gil, what are you doing?"

  "You return that dress and I will personally spank you," he said with a grin.

  "It's not me!" I complained, reaching for the zipper. "I don't even know why I bought it."

  "Because for the first time in forever you had a clear thought?" Gilley said. "M.J., you have been a little old lady since you were six. Isn't it time you kicked your heels up and have a little fun already?"

  "Okay," I said from my bedroom as I pulled the dress over the top of my head and shrugged back into my sweats. "So riddle me this: What if I meet this guy and I hate him? Then I will have just spent a fortune on a dress I'm never going to wear again."

  There was an audible sigh from the hallway. "Don't you get that it's not about this one date?" Gil asked me.

  "What do you mean?" I said, coming out of the bedroom.

  "That dress is about you getting out of your comfort zone, which is what I've been trying to tell you to do for… like, ever."

  "Ah," I said, pouring myself a glass of wine. "So why is it so important I come out of said comfort zone? I mean, I happen to like my zone."

  "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why do you like to play it so safe all the time?"

  I thought about that for a long, long moment. Finally I said, "Because it keeps things simple. All these years I've been happy hanging out with you and putting my energy into our business."

  "Not buying it, M.J.," Gil said to me. "What I think is that you've been so afraid to reveal the real you—the one that, sure, talks to dead people—that you've locked yourself away from any chance of love. Your approach since high school, has been, 'I'm going to get rejected anyway, so why try?'"

  "And if you'll remember high school, it was no picnic for either of us."

  Gil beamed at me. "The thing is, sweetie, that we're no longer in high school. Grown-ups are usually a lot more open to and tolerant of folks like us."

  I smiled at him. "Folks like us?"

  "Quirky," he said, walking over to the stove to stir the plum sauce he was cooking.

  "How did I end up such a mess, Gil?" I asked him.
r />   "Well, it wasn't for lack of me trying to get you to do something different."

  I looked at him just as Doc squawked, "Dr. Delicious!"

  "I've been thinking about what you said to me this morning," I said thoughtfully.

  "I can tell," he said, pointing to my bedroom, where I'd left the dress. "You've been soul-searching."

  I smiled. "I guess I have. Anyway, I think you're right. Maybe I have been a little too rigid. Any chance you can call Dr. Sable and ask him for another interview?"

  "I left him a voice mail this afternoon," Gilley said with a grin as he pulled a pork roast from the oven. "And by the way—tomorrow we are going shoe shopping, because you cannot wear Birkenstocks with that dress."

  * * * *

  The next evening I decided to walk the four blocks to Tango's, an Argentinean steakhouse that was a particular favorite of mine. By the time I was a block and a half into it I really wished I'd driven my car, because my feet were killing me in the three-inch heels Gilley had forced me to buy. And the skintight wowser of a dress kept riding up every time I took more than four steps.

  By the time I reached the front of Tango's I had decided to splurge on a cab home. Walking into the restaurant I shook my head, allowing the many curls Gilley had put in my hair tonight to fluff out a little more, and unbuttoned my coat. I was met by the host, who gave me one look and put his hand to his heart, "Señorita! You are breathtaking! May I give you a table in the window to attract all the men in town tonight?"

  I giggled and gave my hair another flip. "Hello, Estevan. I'm actually meeting someone here, so I'll sit wherever you've put him," I said, nonchalantly scanning the restaurant.

  "And who are you meeting?" Estevan asked.

  "Uh …" I said, suddenly realizing I didn't even know my date's name. "You know, that's a good question. I'm on one of Mama Dell's dinners. Is there a single gentleman here waiting on someone from Mama's?"

  "Why, yes, there is!" Estevan said, looking at his seating chart. "I just escorted a man to a table a few minutes ago, and he is waiting on his perfect match from Mama Dell's."

  I was already annoyed. "I'm not so sure we're a perfect match," I said quickly. "Actually, this is our first date."

  "I see," Estevan said as he took my coat. "Well, after he sees how beautiful you look tonight he may consider you such, no?"