Possessing Elissa

by Donna Sterling

  With his bare back against a muscular, T-shirted chest, his diapered rump supported by one large sun-bronzed hand, a huge thumb supporting his drool-shiny chin, and gigantic fingers splayed down the length of his pinkish, chubby body, Cody blew spit bubbles, kicked his dimpled legs and gazed around the garden with bright-eyed contentment.

  Unaware of his adult audience, Jesse turned the baby toward a particularly lovely tree between the terra-cotta stucco wall and a small wrought-iron gate. “And this,” he instructed, “is a tea olive. You smell that?” He inhaled through his nose with dramatic vigor—obviously so that Cody would catch on and do the same. “Mmmm. Nothing in the world smells better than that, son. Except a woman’s hair and skin. But you’ve got quite some time before you’ll know about that.” He stepped toward the tile-bordered pool, where tiny jets of water stirred the lily pads. “And over here..: ”

  Jesse stopped in the center of the courtyard, his gaze lighting on Elissa, who watched him from the doorway. A corner of his mouth quirked up into a grin, and his eyes greeted her with all the warmth of the Georgia morning sun.

  A smile tugged at her lips, fright replaced by giddy relief-—and another tender emotion that she dared not name.

  “And over here,” he said, “we have this lady we call your mama.” His leisurely gaze took in all of her—her uncombed hair, her unmade-up face, her long pink nightgown that was neither attractive nor revealing. She tossed her tangled curls behind her shoulder, crossed her arms and pretended not to care that she looked her absolute worst.

  Jesse continued with his tour-guide approach to parenting. “This lady, who’s finally graced us with her presence, is not only your mama, but one heck of a kisser. You ever hear of a woman kissing a man senseless? Probably not. But this woman can. Not that it’s any of your business, son. It’s my business.” Jesse ambled closer, his voice taking on a husky quality, his gaze descending to her lips. “And I plan to tend to it, soon as possible.”

  Elissa felt her cheeks warm and glanced away from his hypnotic silver gray eyes. “Time for a diaper change.”

  “His diaper’s already been changed.” Jesse planted a kiss on top of the baby’s head, where dark, wispy hair stood up in all directions above bright, cola-colored eyes. Cody looked so tiny and fair in Jesse’s virile, suntanned arms—but in many ways, the resemblance between the two was uncanny. The arc of their eyebrows, the cleft of their chins, the shape of their mouths and noses.

  “You changed his diaper?” Elissa asked in surprise.

  “Yes, ma’am. And it was a nasty one, too.”

  She gaped disbelievingly. “Where and how?”

  He raised one arrogant brow. “Oh, ye of little faith. You think I don’t know how to take care of my own son?” When her unrelenting gaze pressed for an answer, he said, “I took him out back and hosed him off.”

  Elissa gasped. “You washed his bare little bottom with cold hose water?”

  A frown protested her slant on the incident. “The weather’s nice. In fact, by eight-thirty, it was warm as all he—” he paused, glancing down at his son “—as all heck out here. At least eighty-five degrees.” Elissa had to admit, the weather was unseasonably warm. “He might have been a little surprised at first,” Jesse allowed, “but he’s a staunch little soldier.” His gaze dropped to Cody with paternal pride. “He’s got that Garrett blood in him.”

  Elissa rolled her eyes, stepped barefoot into the stone-floored courtyard and took the happily gurgling baby from Jesse’s arms. Critically, she inspected his job of diapering. He had certainly made an elaborate production out of it. Intricate tucks and folds fitted the diaper with tailored perfection to Cody’s bottom—not a gap or uncomfortable wrinkle anywhere in sight. Of course, he had used every one of the dozen pins from the diaper bag to accomplish this feat Nevertheless, it was a truly impressive finished product.

  “You kept him still enough to do...all this?”

  “He had his rubber duck to gnaw on.”

  Her lips curved with suppressed laughter. “You found Mr. Duckie?”

  He bent her a quelling glance. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

  She nodded, her eyes bright with merriment. “You did a fine job, Captain Garrett.” With her free hand, she saluted him. He looked inordinately pleased at the compliment “What did you do with the dirty diaper?”

  “What else? I trashed it.”

  “But that was a cloth diaper.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll buy him more. As many as he needs.”

  Elissa stared at him. Could this possibly be the same man who had called Dean from a brothel in Asia and said he didn’t want to hear about her “little problem”?

  The old doubts came fluttering back. Was this lavish show of fatherly concern merely for her benefit—to make her fall into his bed during his month’s leave? Elissa pulled herself up short. What was she thinking? This wasn’t a man standing beside her; it was a ghost. She mustn’t forget that. He hadn’t hung around this mortal plane just to get her into the sack. It was Cody he had stayed for.

  It then became quite clear just what Jesse’s final objective was—to make up for his earlier, callous neglect. He apparently hadn’t developed his parental conscience until it was too late. Postmortem.

  His timing ticked her off.

  She tried to soothe herself with the fact that he had named Cody in his will. On the other hand, if he’d really experienced a premonition of death, as both Colonel Atkinson and Jesse himself had told her, that little legality might have been a last-ditch effort to ease himself through judgment day.

  Peeved, she hugged Cody tighter and turned to seek the privacy of the bedroom. “Time for your breakfast, angel,” she murmured against his soft, rounded cheek.

  “Great,” said Jesse. “I’m starved.”

  “Not you.”

  “Oh.” He shot her an irrepressible grin. “Then, I’ll just watch.”

  “Cody prefers to breakfast in private, thank you.” As she made a move toward the doorway, she stopped with a sudden thought. “Jesse, when you and I touched, we both felt something. It was as if we...shouldn’t be touching.”

  He leaned a broad shoulder against the doorjamb and frowned down at her. “I felt the shock, but I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion about it.”

  “Did you feel it when you touched Cody?”

  “No, of course not. It wasn’t that kind of touch.”

  Her brows rose. “You think it happens to us because of something...sexual?”

  His voice lowered an octave, and his eyes turned a smoky gray. “Don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t.” She hoped her sudden flux of body heat wasn’t visibly apparent. “When I touched you in the hotel suite, I hadn’t been thinking about sex.”

  A roguish smile lit his eyes. “Maybe you weren’t”

  “Jesse, this isn’t a joking matter!”

  “And I wasn’t joking.” His gaze drove home that point. A tension-filled silence ensued. After a moment, he quietly asked, “How long did it take you to get here?”

  Although his tone hadn’t actually changed, Elissa sensed a sudden sobriety in it. She knew he meant from the location of their roadside meeting. “A little over an hour.”

  He said nothing, but she could see the news stunned him.

  “Where were you since then?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” He stared at her in perplexity. “I found you in bed sleeping, so I assume our roadside visit occurred...yesterday?”

  She shook her head.

  “Couldn’t have been today. It happened around noon, I’d say, judging from the sun....”

  “Noon, yes. Two days ago. That was Wednesday,” she reminded him. “Today’s Friday.”

  Every trace of Jesse’s former joviality vanished. “I’ll go find us something for breakfast,” he finally murmured, “while you feed Cody. We need to talk.”

  “So WHAT DO YOU MAKE of all this, Jesse?”

  They were sitting in the dappl
ed shade of the quaint walled garden, a basket of buttermilk biscuits, a bowl of fresh strawberries and mugs of coffee all but forgotten on the glass-topped table between them.

  Cody had fallen asleep in his windup swing as Jesse told Elissa about his memory lapses. They had discussed the fact that no one seemed able to see him or hear him except her; they pondered his ability to answer her silent call for help from many miles away; they commented on the strange circumstances surrounding his flight home from overseas. She also reminded him that the government had declared him dead—the fact that carried the least weight with Jesse.

  “If only I could remember what happened after the plane went down. It rolled to the right, then angled into a nosedive....” He squinted in an effort to concentrate. After a few moments, he shook his head. “Then nothing,” he reported glumly. “I can’t remember a damn thing after that.”

  “So you’re sure you were on the plane that crashed?” She heard the disappointment in her own voice. In her heart of hearts, she’d still been hoping for some bizarre mistake.

  His lips tightened into a grim, white line. “No doubt in my mind.” A plethora of unasked questions hovered between them. “You really do think I’m a...ghost... don’t you?”

  It had been difficult for him to say the g word, she knew. It was difficult for her to say it, too. “Can you think of any other explanation?”

  “Of course.”

  Hopefully, she waited.

  “Some crazy Asian medical syndrome, obviously.”

  Her hope again died. “A medical syndrome that makes you invisible to everyone but me?” She sat back in her chair and raked a clump of wayward curls from her forehead. “If you think that’s it, why haven’t you called a doctor?”

  “I did. The receptionist couldn’t hear me.”

  “Funny, the phone’s been working fine for me.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm. “Dean called me just last night.”

  Jesse frowned. “Dean?”

  “Your cousin, remember?”

  “Of course I remember. Why was he calling you here?”

  “Just to check up on me. Make sure I’m okay.”

  “Why the hell wouldn’t you be? You’re in my home, with me.”

  “Jesse, don’t you understand? He thinks you’re dead. Everyone thinks you’re dead.” She flattened her palms on the table and leaned forward, her dark eyes bright and earnest. “I think you’re dead.”

  “That’s a hell of a thing to say. I serve you biscuits, brew your coffee, and what thanks do I get? ‘Jesse, I think you’re dead.’”

  “Stop joking about it,” she reprimanded him sharply. “It’s true. You are dead.”

  Silence followed her outburst.

  Jesse leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and studied her. She wasn’t crazy; he knew that. And she truly believed what she was saying. If he were to be honest with himself, he’d admit she had some good reasons to believe as she did. But his years of covert military experience had taught him to look beyond any explanation that didn’t sit well in his gut. Her explanation weighed far too heavy there. “You’re a peculiar woman, Elissa.”

  She threw her hands up and fell back against her seat. “And you’re a stubborn man, Jesse Garrett.”

  He stroked his beard-stubbled chin. Things could be a lot worse, he reflected. Elissa was here, with his son, to stay for at least a month. He cocked her a tentative smile. And after a few moments of stubborn resistance, she grudgingly gave in and answered his smile with a slight one of her own.

  Squeaks from the windup swing and an exuberant squeal diverted their attention from each other to Cody—wide-eyed, kicking and ready for fun.

  Elissa reached for him, her smile now so radiant that Jesse’s throat constricted. No matter what pain and sacrifice the baby’s existence had caused her, she loved the little tyke with the kind of love that could bring only happiness. That kind of love Jesse himself had never known. He’d been an embarrassment to his own mother, proof of a wrong done to her, a social blight. Elissa could have so easily felt the same about Cody. But she did not.

  A deep tenderness welled up in him, not only for the baby boy who shared his blood, but for the woman who so obviously treasured him. With playful zest, she plucked Cody out of the swing and nuzzled his neck, making him laugh and squeal with delight. She laid him in her nightgown-clad lap, cooed at him, growled against his tummy, played “patty-cake, patty-cake, baker’s man.”

  Her thick, dark hair was tangled, her pink gown was an oversize T-shirt, her face betrayed distinct laugh lines in the morning sun. He’d never seen a woman he wanted more in all his life.

  “And do you know who that is, over there?” She stood Cody up in her lap, facing Jesse, and spoke against his pudgy little cheek. “That’s your Dada.”

  “Dada?” repeated Jesse in surprise.

  Her cheek dimpled. “Yes, Dada. Can you say that, Cody? Da-da-da?”

  And though Jesse managed a creditable smirk—as if he objected to the infantile form of address—his heart swelled beyond capacity. She was including him in their family circle. More than that—she was acknowledging his place at its very heart. She could have paid him no finer tribute; given no finer gift. He could have wept with the joy of it.

  But weeping wasn’t his style. He swallowed—admittedly hard—and reached out a finger for Cody to wrap his little hand around. “Give me a shake, there, boy. A handshake for your old pa.” He saw Elissa’s brows rise in response to his preferred title. “Can you say that? Papa-pa?”

  He had watched Cody reach for Elissa’s fingers during their play. He had watched his face light up in response to her smile. But as Jesse leaned across that table, waving his finger in the baby’s plain view, Cody did not reach out His eyes didn’t even focus on the finger.. .or on Jesse’s face.

  A bone-deep chill seeped through him. With slow deliberation, he waved his hand in front of the baby’s eyes. Cody didn’t so much as blink.

  “He can’t see me.” Jesse turned his gaze to Elissa.

  The bleakness there tore at her heart. She wished she could tell him he was wrong. She wished she could make it not so. But she knew from Cody’s lack of response that Jesse wasn’t mistaken.

  The stricken look remained for only a very short time before a familiar determination hardened Jesse’s eyes to a granite gray. “Get your car keys, Elissa. And Cody’s stroller.”

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “Into town. I think it’s time I do a little investigating about this condition of mine.”

  THE EXCURSION STARTED out predictably enough. They drove into the historic section of Savannah, where Elissa pushed Cody in his stroller down the bricked pathways of lush green squares and on sidewalks past restored historical homes, inns and shops.

  Jesse, for the most part, walked with them. But it had been immediately apparent, from the moment he’d climbed from Elissa’s car and greeted a young couple jogging by, that no one else could hear or see him.

  Things only got worse from there.

  He waved his hand in people’s faces and marveled when they failed to react. He tapped a fashionably attired businessman on the shoulder and asked for the time. The man turned and lifted his brows at an elderly woman, who marched by with a righteous tilt of her head and girlish blush on her weathered cheeks. Jesse scolded a purple-haired teen for having too many gold studs in her nostrils—“I like my women with one. Two, at the very most.” The girl slinked on without so much as a scowl.

  Even that wasn’t enough for Jesse. He lifted a cap from a kid’s head and set it on his little sister, which instigated a loud altercation. He caught a ball that another boy had been tossing up into the air- The boy gaped at the ball Jesse held, then tugged at the woman in front of him. “Look, Mom, look! My ball’s stuck in the air!” She absently patted the boy on the head and continued her conversation with the woman beside her.

  Elissa couldn’t help but intervene at that point. “Jesse!” she admonished from a few yards a
way. With a sheepish grin, he tossed the ball back to the boy, who examined it with wide-eyed reverence.

  Jesse returned to Elissa’s side and escorted her across a shady street toward a sidewalk café. “It’s the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” he muttered. “They can’t see me, they can’t hear me, but they can feel my touch”

  Elissa had to bite her tongue to keep from asking what he felt when he touched them. People sat at outdoor umbrella tables, casting her casual glances and brief smiles for the baby. What would they do if she started talking to an invisible man? Cart her off to a padded cell, that’s what

  “What do you think would happen,” mused Jesse, “if I blocked their way? Would they bump into me?”

  Foreboding shivered through Elissa. “Don’t try it!”

  The plea drew the attention of ladies seated at a nearby umbrella table. She looked down at Cody and, in a rush of embarrassment, stuck the pacifier into his mouth. “Don’t...don’t throw your pacifier again, sweetie, or we might not find it this time.”

  Cody accepted the pacifier in sleepy contentment as Elissa wheeled him beyond earshot of the sidewalk café.

  Beside her, Jesse muttered, “I have to know what I’m dealing with here.” And with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his tight, faded jeans, he stepped into the path of an oncoming crowd.

  Elissa flinched as a long-haired, husky youth with headphones walked into him. But there was no collision. The youth, and the crowd behind him, walked on without interruption. Elissa heard a woman remark, “Oh, do you feel that chill? I’ll bet we’re in for some rain.” Her companion mumbled in agreement.

  Elissa stood with her fingers wrapped tightly around the stroller bar, staring in dry-mouthed horror. Jesse was gone. Gone! Vanished in the midst of that crowd.

  “Jesse?” she whispered when the crowd had passed.

  No one answered.

  With shaking knees, she forced herself to stroll to the end of the block, casting hopeful glances around the city streets, praying to see Jesse among the pedestrians. Where had he gone? What had happened to him? Had he broken some cardinal rule of the spiritual realm, damning him to some netherworld for all eternity?