Finding the Way Back

by Jill Bisker

  I stood up to see how I felt. It wasn’t nearly as bad as before, but the floor was still a little unsteady under my feet. Maybe they had a point. “Fine, but I need my purse. It’s on the counter in the kitchen. I’ll go but only so no one bugs me later.”

  Emmett stood and went in the kitchen coming back with my orange bag slung over his shoulder. “What do you think? Is it my color?”

  “Funny boy,” I said, laughing. I reached for it then felt myself swaying. Emmett stepped forward and swept me off my feet. “Ouch,” I squealed, surprised. ”You’re hurting me! I fell on that hip. Put me down, I can walk.”

  “Can, but won’t,” he said, walking for the front door as he readjusted his arms and got a better hold on me. “Sorry, is that better? Glen, you and Dean can stay here and make sure the equipment is working. Set up a camera in the master closet and one in the other area she was talking about in the basement. I hope you brought your sleeping bags. We might be staying the night,” he ordered. “Let’s go, Connie.”

  I struggled a little in his arms, complaining, ”Hey, I’m not a defenseless female here.” I kicked a little but it was just for show. I stopped when he almost lost his grip.

  “Just settle down, you’re going to hurt yourself even more if I drop you,” he said putting me down on the porch. “Why don’t you try the stairs yourself? We don’t want both of us to fall down if I’m carrying you.”

  I started down the steps. “I’m fine, I can walk.” With that I swayed again, and didn’t quite grasp the railing. Emmett caught my arm and pulled me towards him to lift me again, although he was more careful this time of my hip. Giving up what was a ridiculous claim anyway, I leaned my head against his chest and just gave in. His aftershave smelled delicious and my cheek skimmed his hard chest and soft t-shirt. Now I was getting dizzy for an entirely different reason. I scarcely had time to enjoy the moment before he was sliding me into the front seat of his truck. Connie took the seat behind me in the extended cab and we drove to the hospital.

  For something called ‘Urgent Care’, it sure took forever to get seen by someone then to get out of there and back home again. The good news was the doctor didn’t think I had a concussion but gave me a list of symptoms to watch for over the next few days. The bad news was that the symptoms she listed were things like headache, balance problems, mood disruption, fatigue. I had those all the time, why would this be any different? My hip seemed to be only bruised but I was supposed to watch that for the next few days too. Maybe I should have been a doctor. Who couldn’t give a diagnosis like that—‘I think you’re fine, so go home and let me know if you get any worse.’ What a waste of time. Except it did give me one more thing to worry about. When I checked in they asked for my medical insurance information. Since my divorce was just finalized I was covered through the end of the month on Simon’s insurance policy. But after that I was on my own. One more thing to add to my to-do list.

  It was just about dark when we left for home. The encroaching twilight was unsettling and I thought back to what I saw in the basement. I twisted my shirt in my hands and wondered if I should say anything. Should I even go back and stay in the house?

  As we stopped in front of the house, I felt my anxiety rise again. I wanted to face whatever was in the house but then again I didn’t. How could my grandmother be in the same place as the other entity in the basement, whatever or whoever it was? Did each one not know the other was there? Were they separated by different parts of the house? It just didn’t make sense to me.

  I stepped out of the truck carefully, as I was still a bit dizzy. The sensation was going away but I worried that the ringing in my ears would take longer to dissipate.

  Emmett came around the side of the truck and held out his hand to me. Smiling I took the offered hand and let him escort me into the house. I appreciated his support, both physically and emotionally. It was difficult being vulnerable because I hadn’t had anyone to help me in a long time. I hadn’t wanted to lean too much on my mother since she had her own problems. Emmett was the first friend I had made in a while. My old friends hadn’t liked my choice in a mate so we had lost touch. I hadn’t wanted to hear their advice and after a while they probably got tired of my complaints, especially since they had warned me beforehand about Simon.

  Since we hadn’t moved any of the equipment from the previous investigation, everything was still in place and ready for another night of ghost hunting. Sitting in our magic circle of spirit crusaders, as I now liked to think of us, we began to discuss the coming evening. No one looked very rested. Dean and Glen were still dressed for their day jobs in dress slacks and rumpled shirts. Dean was sporting an attractive five o’clock shadow. The late nights were all starting to take a toll on the group.

  “I know we thought we would do another quest for answers,” Emmett started, trying to sound positive. “But I think for Laney’s sake we should put it off for one night and come back tomorrow.”

  “I’m fine, really,” I answered, trying to sound upbeat and strong while underneath I was bone tired and aching.

  “You are still dizzy and I would be remiss in continuing this tonight. It’s not a good idea for you to be walking around in the dark given the way you feel,” he continued.

  “I hate to say it, Laney, but you’re not exactly the sprightliest person even in full daylight,” Connie added.

  Under normal circumstance I might have felt insulted but this time I was actually relieved. Thinking fondly of my bed upstairs, I quickly gave up the argument. “I would love to have some answers but there’s no saying we’d actually find any. I hate to admit it but I don’t want to do anything more but go to bed.”

  Everyone agreed that was the best thing to do so we called it a night. Glen and Dean got up to go and Connie walked them to the door. As tired as I was, I needed to unwind a little bit so I curled up on the sofa and turned on the television. I flipped through the channels and finally came upon a repeat of a past season of Project Runway. It felt like I was melting into the couch.

  Emmett announced that he was going to run to the grocery store to buy something to make for dinner. I suddenly realized I was starving.

  Connie made me a cup of tea for my headache then joined me watching television. “You had better snatch that man right up. He’s adorable and cooks.”

  I blushed. “I’m not sure he’s looking to be snatched.”

  “Are you that dense? Everyone can see how crazy he is about you. If you would stop being so hard on yourself you would realize what a good catch you are as well. He’d be lucky to have you.”

  “Wow, that’s really sweet,” I answered. “But you don’t have to be nice to me just because I hit my head.”

  “Besides, it would be great to have him around, he’s got some hot friends,” Connie said, laughing.

  Emmett returned before long and Connie and I followed him to the kitchen. My dizziness was finally getting better and I was just stuck with a throbbing headache. “Can we help?” Connie asked, although neither of was making any movement toward actually assisting.

  “You can keep me company if you like. I’ll take care of the rest. I like cooking.”

  “Is there anything sexier than those words coming out of a man’s mouth?” Connie asked me. Emmett laughed and I saw him glance at me quickly then look away.

  We pulled up chairs to watch as he emptied his bags on the counter. He found a few pans in the cupboard and put some water on the stove to boil as he started cleaning and cutting up broccoli.

  “What are we having?” I asked.

  “Quinoa, broccoli, fresh buns and Scottish salmon. And for dessert, strawberries with cream,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  “That actually sounds healthy,” Connie said, getting up out of her chair. “I’ll clean the strawberries for you, since you are doing the rest of the cooking.”

  “So healthy, I don’t even know what all of it is,” I said.

  We passed the time laughing and trading gossip about town
happenings while Emmett prepared dinner. It was fun to have a quiet normal time. Connie set the table after cleaning the fruit, while I continued watching. It was so unusual to be the person who didn’t do anything that I felt a little guilty, but then the throbbing in my head reminded me that I was supposed to be taking it easy.

  Emmett had Connie searching in the cupboards for serving dishes. She found some candle sticks with candles and added them to the table to make our feast more festive. I lit the candles while Connie and Emmett brought the food over.

  “It smells wonderful,” I said as Emmett poured some white wine into our glasses.

  “We have to be careful about that head injury so you only get half a glass,” Emmett said to me, putting down the bottle. “Dig in, ladies.”

  Dishing up a healthy helping of each item, I tasted the quinoa. The texture was a little odd, kind of like couscous but not really. I decided I liked it. I watched as Emmett cut up his salmon and had a bite with the quinoa at the same time. I tried it the same way and found it amazing.

  “I think I have a new favorite meal,” I declared. “Especially if I can have someone else prepare it for me.”

  “I don’t remember when I’ve enjoyed dinner more. You are a great chef,” Connie said after we were finished.

  “It’s a joy to cook for such appreciative individuals,” Emmett said, refilling his glass then leaning back in his chair. “But I don’t clean up.”

  “I can take care of that,” Connie said getting up and starting to clear away the dishes. “Laney, you can go lie down.”

  “I can help,” I said, getting up and picking up my plate, but Emmett grabbed my arm and shook his head in a negative. Then he led me out to the living room, depositing me on the couch. It was such a strange feeling, having someone take care of me this way. I was starting to think I could get used to it.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Emmett had barely left me on the couch when my mother and Aunt Shelly showed up. I could see by the looks on their faces that they had heard something about recent events. My mother rushed in and practically threw her purse down as she moved to me on the sofa. She sat on the edge and scrutinized my face, running her hand across my forehead. “We heard you fell, Laney. You should have called me,” my mother said.

  “I’m sorry Mom, I didn’t think of it at first and then I didn’t want to worry you about it. How did you find out?” I asked as I watched Emmett leave the room. Coward, I thought. I noticed my aunt enter the room behind my mother and set an antique clock down on the coffee table.

  “Ms. Mabel was in the waiting room at the Emergency Center and she saw you being wheeled in. When she got home she called me straight away. So what happened?”

  Thank you Ms. Mabel. No wonder she always had the latest rumors if she spent all her time in the emergency room waiting area. My mom proceeded to run her hands down my skull to find the lump then she moved up to kiss it. All I had to do was hear my mother’s voice and see her face and I was a child again. Tears sprang to my eyes as I told her the account of my escapade. I told her about the apparition I saw and I could tell she really believed me. Her support only made my tears worse.

  “I’m fine, Mom, really,” I told her through the tears sliding down my face. “I have a huge headache and some bruises but they said I was okay, not even a concussion.”

  “You can’t stay here alone,” she insisted. I could see how much my story had upset her. There was real fear behind her eyes.

  “Not to worry, Tess,” Emmett said returning to the living room. “I’m going to crash on the couch. I’d already decided that when we couldn’t get the back door fixed fast enough.”

  “Well, thank you. Try to keep her safe,” she told Emmett, trying to be brave. “Should Shelly and I stay too?”

  “We don’t have rooms for you, Mom. We’ll be fine with Emmett here,” I assured her although I didn’t know exactly how he was going to keep us safe from a ghost.

  My aunt was sitting in the recliner and pointed to the clock she had brought, changing the subject. “This was our mother’s parent’s clock. My father gave it to me when I got married, but it hasn’t worked since we were young. I kept meaning to have it cleaned and fixed but I just never got around to it. I thought it would look nice back on the mantle here.”

  It was a quaint old clock. I’d seen many very similar in antique shops. It wasn’t rare enough to be really worth much but it was always nice to have family heirlooms and it would give the living room some dignity after the remodel. The clock was a black rectangular box with a round face rimmed with gold. I would love to see if we could get it to work. I loved hearing the tick and chimes of antique pieces. Clocks today didn’t have the charm of an earlier generation but perhaps I glorified earlier times.

  My mother moved to the end of the couch and tried to put on her strong act making light conversation, but I could see she was still disturbed. We talked for a while then I began to feel very tired.

  “I’ll walk you upstairs, Laney,” my mom said. “I’d feel much better if I knew you were tucked up safe in bed.”

  I smiled at her and nodded. If that was all she was going to ask of me I was lucky.

  “I’ll make you a cup of herb tisane while your mother walks up with you, Laney,” my aunt added, getting in on the action.

  I felt like a little girl being put to bed as I walked up the stairs in front of my mom. When we got to my bedroom she rummaged through the drawers where I’d put my clothes, looking for my pajamas.

  She scrunched up her face as she held up my pink with orange flowered flannel PJ’s. They had holes in the elbows and knees, and the ribbon that tied at the waist was tattered. I smiled as I reached for them.

  “Oh no, you can’t be seen in these, Laney,” she said, tucking them under her arm and heading for the closet.

  “Who’s going to see me?” I asked then suddenly remembered as she gave me a sideways glance. “Oh, right.”

  “I remember my mother having some pajamas in here,” she said rooting around the interior. She came out with a gauzy light blue peignoir with lace at the waist and hem. It had a matching robe with more lace at the wrists and was far more beautiful than anything I had ever slept in.

  “Mom, seriously, that has to be the most impractical nightgown I have ever seen,” I said, but even I could hear the note of wistfulness in my voice. What girl who’d watched old movies hadn’t wanted a peignoir set that looked like it had been in an old film?

  “Put it on, let’s just see,” she encouraged.

  I removed my clothes and slipped on the nightgown and robe. It smelled a little funny, but not too bad. I felt transported back to a time when elegance was the first word in dressing. The full skirt would be a problem to sleep in, and I could picture myself being wrapped like a mummy after turning over a couple of times. Hoping to keep my mother happy I left the peignoir set and robe on and got into bed. I could change again after she left. Perhaps she would leave quickly if she thought I was going right to sleep.

  Aunt Shelly came through the door with the tea and set it next to the bed. “I loved that nightgown, it is a tad impractical isn’t it?”

  “I think it’s the perfect thing for her to wear. You should see her tattered pajamas; we wouldn’t want her to be seen in those would we?” They shared a look that spoke volumes.

  “Perhaps we ought to buy her some new ones tomorrow. After all, this may not be the message she wants to send to a new beau,” Aunt Shelly said.

  “I think this is exactly the kind of message she should be sending,” my mother argued.

  “Mom—I don’t care. Anything will do. Could I please go to sleep now?”

  “Go ahead and rest. I’m going to wait until you’re asleep.”

  “Mom,” I started to protest but I saw the determination in her face and I was too tired to fight. “Fine.” I snuggled under the covers and closed my eyes. With my mother standing watch, I was asleep so quickly I never even heard them leave.

  * *
* *

  I awoke only a few hours later after dreaming I was an Egyptian priestess and I was being mummified alive. I became aware of my nightgown wrapped tightly around my body—it was no wonder where the dream came from. Why was it that when I was at my most tired I couldn’t seem to sleep through the night? My mouth was dry and I reached out to take a drink of the tea. The tea was stone cold; I wouldn’t be able to drink more than a sip. That meant I would have to brave the dark and go downstairs. After the incident earlier today I really didn’t want to go anywhere alone, but then I remembered that Emmett was sleeping on the couch downstairs. One cry and he would be alerted.

  The house was quiet, but I could see light from the bathroom pooling out into the hallway. I decided to try to use the supposed gift I had. I closed my eyes and tried to be aware of any sensations around me. Either I couldn’t sense anything, or nothing was there. Or both. It was so still it was eerie, but there were no feelings of fear or darkness. The weather had been mild so the furnace wasn’t on and it was too early for air conditioning so there wasn’t even the noise of air moving through the ducts.

  I unwound my garments so I wouldn’t fall and slipped out of the bed. I had kept the robe on, thinking I would change before going to sleep so I didn’t have to find it in the dark. It would at least make the peignoir a little more modest should Emmett happen to see me. I briefly considered changing into my old pajamas but decided I didn’t have the energy, besides I really was enjoying the femininity of the garment. I could have just stepped off the cover of a gothic romance. The headache was gone, but my hip had stiffened up a little as I slept, and I stretched a little before walking. Didn’t want to fall and wake the whole house. I could just hear Emmett yelling at me for walking around alone. I would just sneak down to the kitchen and back quickly. Emmett wouldn’t be the wiser.

  Quietly padding down the hall, I stopped at the top of the stairs to listen for movement. All was silent. I carefully grasped the rail with one hand and started down the steps, holding my nightgown up with the other hand.