by Alexie Aaron
“I love that movie… Oh, I see what you mean,” Audrey realized.
“You seem like a smart young woman. Try it after Cid is through. If it’s not your cup of tea, then at least you can hold your head high for trying something new, or old as in this case.”
Burt mentally said, “And cut.”
~
Mia took the letter from Ralph. She looked at the expensive paper with the Alexei Alexandrovich gilded and embossed on the header.
“If this is a joke, it’s an expensive one,” she said before she read the letter aloud to Ralph.
My Dear Mrs. Martin,
Forgive me for this intrusion. I am Alexei Alexandrovich, Grand Duke of Russia. As your Google will tell you, I died in 1908, but my spirit resides here in New Orleans. I arrived two years after my death with a collection of my personal items sent to my dear friend Albert Cully in 1920. Since then, I have taken various hosts in order to continue to enjoy this wonderful city. My present host is well aware of my presence. We have many things in common; least of all, she is filthy rich.
I am acquainted with the reason you have come to New Orleans. I applaud your efforts and wish all that want to leave this plane of existence an easy transition. A mutual friend of ours, Judge Roumain, suggested I contact you while you are here. I have a personal problem that he assures me you are well equipped to deal with. I have asked my host to provide you with a small income as a goodwill gesture and proof that, indeed, you are dealing with Alexei Alexandrovich.
I hope to be hearing from you soon.
Grand Duke Alexei Romanov
“Whack job,” Mia said.
“Nutcase,” Ralph added.
“I don’t know what to believe.”
“This judge, do I know him?” Ralph asked.
“Remember when Bev tried selling me to Angelo?”
“Bitch. Yes. He’s not that, that…” Ralph suddenly found himself lost for words.
“Judge Roumain presides over purgatory or a part of purgatory. I can’t really get a grasp on it since I don’t believe in it.”
Ralph shook his head. “But you were there.”
“Yes, but, damn, it’s hard to explain. I don’t really believe in being sent for a timeout after you die. Unfortunately, a large amount of the world’s population does. So Roumain has a job.”
“That sounds pretty lame.”
“I know. I’m not explaining it very well. I’m distracted.” Mia picked up one of the jewel cases and opened it. Lying on a bed of velvet was a jeweled necklace. Mia wasn’t too savvy on gemstones but the deep blue reminded her of sapphires. She popped open another box, and it contained a military medal of some kind. The smallest case contained a ring to match the necklace. “I can see bribing me with money, but this stuff?”
“You have to return them,” Ralph said, holding the necklace to the light. “Blue isn’t your color. If they were emeralds, I’d advise you to keep the necklace and return the rest.”
“Fortunately for me, they aren’t emeralds. Honestly, where is your honesty, Ralph?”
“No one has ever plied me with jewels.”
“That’s a lie. Bernard gave you his father’s cuff links last Christmas.”
“Honey, those weren’t jewels.”
“They had shiny bits on them.”
“Glass, but the thought was there. So we have to meet up with this character and return the jewels,” Ralph stated.
“And the money.”
“Mia, you could use the money.”
“I haven’t earned it.”
“I’ll take it then.”
“No, we’re returning it.” Mia started to collect the money and frowned. She put out her hand. “Ralph, I know you have it.”
“I have a wedding to pay for.”
“Not with Romanov money you don’t.”
Ralph pulled the stack out of the Marriott jacket and placed it in Mia’s hand. “Who raised you to be so honest?”
“You did,” Mia said simply and sat down to eat.
“What about the stuff in the closet. Who do you think sent those?” Ralph asked, refilling his cup.
“One crazy person at a time.”
The room phone rang. Mia had her mouth full, so Ralph walked over and answered it, “Mrs. Mia Martin’s room. Ralph Mendelssohn speaking.”
Mia watched Ralph listen for a moment. “Yes, I do see it was an oversight, but these things do happen. Six o’clock? Yes, we’ll be there. Who am I? I’m Mrs. Martin’s assistant. Yes, another oversight. No harm done. We’ll see you at six.” Ralph put the phone down and walked back to the table.
“We will see them at six?” Mia asked and corrected, “I will see them at six.”
“No, darling, we will see them. You’re not going by yourself.” He picked up the letter and waved it. “This town is full of nutcases.”
Mia put down her napkin and got up. She picked up a dress that she had dragged out of the gym bag earlier. “I hope this meeting isn’t too formal. I only brought the one dress.”
Ralph looked at the wrinkled piece of cloth Mia had labeled a dress and shook his head. “The woman said cocktails at six and dinner at seven. This tells me that dress, although charming, in its present state is not going to cut it. Let’s look in the closet and see what the clothing fairy has given you.”
“You do know who sent the clothes,” Mia accused. She got up and strode over to the closet.
“Gerald called me,” Ralph confessed. “He didn’t want you to be embarrassed by having nothing to wear. I stopped at Macy’s on my way downtown.”
“Ralph, you have to save for your wedding, and I can’t afford all this,” Mia said as she opened the closet, exposing the half dozen suit bags and boxes of shoes.
“Oh, I didn’t pay for it. Gerald did.”
“What is it with you males?” Mia asked, not expecting an answer. “I’m not a doll to be dressed whenever you feel like it. I felt creepy when Whit did it. Now Gerald, I feel positively violated.”
“Now, now, I picked everything out. You like it when I buy you things, don’t you?”
Mia looked over and feared she had hurt Ralph’s feelings. She didn’t need a hysterical Ralph on her hands. “I love it when you do. You’re different; we’re family,” she said softly. “Anything Gerald gives comes with a price, something that needs to be paid back. That’s how I ended up here away from my husband and baby in the first place,” she explained.
“Well, what’s done is done,” Ralph said, pulling himself together. “You go and take a shower, and I’ll have an outfit ready for you. I’ll put it on the bed. Call me when you’re ready to go. Do I need to call a cab?”
“No, I have a driver.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow.
“He came with the job,” Mia explained.
Ralph sniffed. “You accepted a driver but kick a shitfit at clothes? Honey, you sure are a conundrum.”
“He wouldn’t get paid if I bowed out,” she explained. “Plus, he’s from here. He knows the city. I do not.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Okay. We have to leave by five forty-five. I hope there’s enough time?”
“I’m a quick dresser…”
“Mia, honestly, I wasn’t thinking about you. I’m not sure that’s enough time for me!”
Ralph started pulling off the garment bags, and colorful frocks burst out, happy to be free of their confines. Mia retreated to the bathroom and shut the door. She leaned against it a moment, gathering her strength. Her eyes popped open, and she opened the door, squeezed past Ralph and collected the bag of money and jewels. She bent over and opened the safe, reading the instructions before tossing the bag in there and locking it.
“Really, Mia, I wasn’t going to rob you while you showered,” Ralph pouted.
“I wasn’t thinking of you,” she lied.
“But those sapphires would look nice with this dress,” Ralph said, holding out the scoop-necked gown.
“No,” Mia said firmly and walked
back into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She undressed quickly. Mia looked down at her legs and groaned. She wrapped a towel around herself and opened the door. “Ralph…”she started.
Ralph smiled and handed her a razor. “Who knows you like I do?”
Mia couldn’t help but smile as she said, “No one, Ralph, no one.”
Chapter Three
George pulled over in front of a large, three-story house surrounded by an elaborate iron fence. A large dark-suited man stood by the gate holding a clipboard.
Ralph approached the man. “Mia Martin and Ralph Mendelssohn.”
The man checked his list and stepped aside, allowing them entrance to the front garden.
Mia and Ralph walked up the walk to the front porch where a woman waited for them. She was dressed similarly to Mia in a sleeveless scoop-necked cocktail dress. She, however, wore a jeweled necklace around her slim throat.
“Mrs. Martin, I’m so glad you were able to come and help us out. I’m Honor Lemont-Hendricks, and this is my home Ridge House. It’s built on the high ground, a ridge if you will, hence the name.”
Mia introduced Ralph to Honor. The woman seemed familiar somehow.
“Excuse me, but, Honor, have we met before?” Mia asked.
“Not that I know of, but it’s a small world.”
“You look so familiar.”
“Perhaps you ran into one of my mother’s cousins. We that carry the Lemont gene have an uncanny resemblance to each other.”
“Well, that must be it. Sorry for the intrusion.”
“No, dear, I assure you that I am flattered.”
Ralph, who was uncharacteristically quiet, stood patiently, waiting for them to conclude their conversation. Mia knew he couldn’t wait to be let loose into this tastefully decorated home.
“Follow me. You’re not the first to arrive, but neither are you the last. Come and have a refreshing cocktail,” she invited.
Mia looked around the large living room and spied a servant manning the small bar tucked into the corner. Mia didn’t want alcohol to dull her senses but worried it was rude not to have a drink.
Ralph caught her arm and hissed, “I’m your assistant. I’ll fetch the drinks.”
“No alcohol for me,” Mia whispered back.
“One Shirley Temple coming up,” he teased and left her to introduce herself to the man and woman standing by a small curio cabinet, discussing the contents.
She walked up and forced a smile. She waited until there was a lull in the discussion about the collection of matchboxes before making her presence known. “Hello, I’m Mia Martin.”
The tall, regal black woman nodded her head. Mia felt her try to probe Mia’s mind, but Mia was prepared for the intrusion. She raised her hand palm outward and said, “Let’s use our words, shall we?”
Impressed, the woman smiled. “I’m Wanda Smith, I represent the Baptist Church. My colleague,” she patted the shoulder of the short balding man, “Pastor Paul Phillips is a Methodist minister.”
Mia reached out her hand, and it was grasped warmly by the Pastor. “My youth group calls me Triple P, Mia.”
“Triple P, I like that,” Mia said. “I take it by your lack of sweat and nervous jitters that you’ve been to one of these before?”
“Wanda and I’ve been here for the last four,” he said proudly. “The Commission isn’t static in its representation.”
“I’ve been asked to fill in for Father Acosta, who is ill,” Mia explained. “Normally, I pretty much stick to my neck of the woods.”
“Are you Catholic?” Wanda asked her.
“No, but I’m, as Gerald Shem put it, a fence-sitter.”
Ralph’s well-timed return changed the conversation to the present weather and how good the cold drinks were going to feel.
Mia introduced Ralph, not as her assistant but her colleague.
“Mia’s too kind. I’m just here to fetch and carry,” he said, charm oozing out of every pore.
Further conversation was stopped by the entrance of three giggling women dressed in what Ralph would later identify as bohemian costumes.
Mia caught Wanda mumbling to Triple P, “Not again.”
Ralph took Mia’s elbow and directed her away from the two and towards the new arrivals.
The oldest of the group spotted Mia and all but tripped over the others as she rushed over and scooped Mia up in a hug.
Surprised, Mia squeaked out, “Hello.”
“Oh my dear, forgive my forwardness, but we’ve met before you see. Do you remember when your Grandmother took you to see the Mikado?”
“Yum-Yum?” Mia asked as her childhood memory flooded in.
“Yes, you do remember.” She turned to the other two women and explained, “Mia’s Fredericka’s granddaughter. She came to see our little community extravaganza. I played Yum-Yum, Sissy Seeley played Pitti-Sing and her sister…”
“Naomi,” Mia supplied.
“Yes Naomi was Peep-Bo. How politically incorrect we were back then. I wouldn’t put it past us to do a minstrel show. I’m so glad you’re here. I worried that woman was going to ruin you, but I see you made it through alright.”
“Amanda…” Mia started.
“Oh no, not your mother, your aunt Bevil.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Ralph leaned in and explained, “Bevil is one of Beverly’s nicknames.”
“Oh.” Mia didn’t know what to do with this information. She filed it away and graciously greeted the two companions of Yum-Yum - she had yet to know her real name.
“I’m Candy, and this is Monique,” the black woman introduced. “I knew your grandmother too, but I never had the privilege of meeting you.”
“I beg your pardon, but you don’t look old enough to be a compatriot of Grandma Fred,” Mia said.
“Oh, that’s because black doesn’t crack,” Yum-Yum said.
Ralph gasped.
Candy laughed. “Don’t mind Becky. She’s determined to get a rise out of somebody. I told her it wasn’t going to be me today. I’m much too relaxed.”
Now that Mia knew Yum-Yum’s nonperforming name, Becky, she felt better. Although, she would probably refer to Becky as Yum-Yum mentally for quite a while.
Monique started to speak but was interrupted by a tall, thin, collar-wearing black gentleman who strode into the room as if he lived there. “Well, I see Macbeth’s witches three are with us again.” He looked down at Mia and said, “You’re new, and you, sir,” he nodded at Ralph. He looked over their heads and said, “I see the Protestants are lusting over the collectables.”
Mia felt a blast of cold air as Wanda’s frosty glare brought with it a bit of the polar vortex. Triple P just laughed good-naturedly.
“Father Peter, I must insist that you stop this,” Honor scolded. She looked at the others, giving them a sympathetic look. “Now that we are all assembled, why don’t we adjourn to the dining room? Food before business, I insist. And remember, no work talk. I run a no-ghost zone table.”
Ralph held out his arm to Mia, who took it, happy to have him to lean upon physically and emotionally.
“Ah, Mrs. Martin has a knight to protect her,” Father Peter observed, giving his arm to his hostess.
“I wouldn’t pick on the young woman, Peter. She’s doing us a favor. Father Acosta is ill.”
“I gathered that when I didn’t see the old coot here.”
“Behave,” Honor warned.
Ralph leaned over and whispered in Mia’s ear. “There are more divas here than at a Kinky Boots audition.”
Mia permitted herself a small laugh. Stress eased its way out of her shoulders.
Ralph patted her hand protectively.
As they approached the large, beautifully set table, Honor broke away from Father Peter’s grasp and directed who was to sit where. Ralph and Mia were quickly separated. Mia was sat between Father Peter and Candy. Ralph divided Monique and Becky. Pastor Philip sat at the end of the table with Wanda at his ri
ght. Their hostess, Honor, sat at the other end of the table. She waited until all were comfortable before signally the footman to begin serving.
Mia looked over at Ralph, who seemed to be enjoying himself. She was happy to have him there with her, but part of her wished that a certain scruffy farmer had made the trip. A bolt of memory flashed through her. She just remembered where she had seen Honor before. She was the spitting image of the young woman in Murphy’s locket. Mia picked up her soup spoon and began to eat. Her appetite had returned with her acceptance that the world was indeed small.
~
The full moon bathed the forest with an eerie glow. Maggie walked beside Murphy as he drifted from one tree to another. He was inspecting each tree, looking for any damage they may have sustained during the long, cold winter. He was sad to see he had lost quite a few young trees to the ravenous appetite of the area’s deer population. He had Ted and Mia furnish food for the herd, but evidently, it hadn’t been enough. Or it could be that the deer were partial to the bark of the young trees. He would replant the trees but not until he devised a better way of protecting them from the four-legged pests.
Mia was sympathetic to his need to restore the forest, but she was also happy that wildlife had started to repopulate the place. The area needed a certain amount of wildlife to help Gerald’s proposal for a wildlife sanctuary to be made of the hollow property. He faced a zoning commission that was leaning towards subdividing the area for luxury commuter homes. Homes were the last thing that should be built in an area that had witnessed the horrors Steele and the hag had brought to it.
“So if we have to sacrifice a few trees, Murph, then so be it. Talk to Ted, I’m sure he’s got an invention in mind to keep the deer from eating your trees,” Mia suggested.
He hadn’t asked Ted yet. He hated to bother the young father with his problems. Ted had his hands full with little Brian.
Murphy smiled when he thought of Mia’s baby. The little feller could see him and reacted with a grand smile whenever Murphy visited him. Cid told him that was just gas causing the smile, but Murphy knew better. Brian Stephen Cid Martin could see ghosts, and he liked Murphy.