by Terri Grimes
“Seven o’clock,” I commanded. “You’d better be here by seven o’clock tomorrow night.”
“No problem. We might be out of bed by then.” He giggled as he hung up the phone.
Why did I bother? I stared at the now dead phone in my hands. Sometimes it bothered me that Timmy was the one getting all the action and not me. But now that my drought had ended, I had a feeling I was going to be rivaling Timmy with the bedroom antics. But, unlike him, I planned on playing my cards close to the vest and not pulling the kiss and tell routine. I nibbled on a fingernail as I wondered how much longer I’d be able to retain my silence.
~ * ~
At six o’clock I took one last look in the mirror, giving my reflection a saucy wink.
“Plain Jane, meet Dressed to Kill.” I laughed. It wasn’t often I dressed to impress, but when I did, I think I cleaned up nicely, if I did say so myself.
The phone rang, jarring me away from the mirror.
I strode to my night table, picking up the phone’s receiver and chirped a cheery, “Hello.”
“Hey, Gertie.” I was pleased to hear my cousin’s voice on the other end of the line.
Lori can only be described as a force of nature. She is as different to me as night is to day. A tall, buxom, natural blonde, Lori was over blessed with oodles of junk in the trunk and a mind like a steel trap. A bear trap to be exact. She was a self made woman in her own right, having cashed in on the dying art of iron girthed girdle panty and Rosalind Russell sized bra design fresh out of college. Yes, she designed the industrial force, steel lined, bra and girdle panty sets for the buxom babe. Bras and girdle panties for the substantial woman of today, complete with dainty pink skulls and crossbones adorning each bra cup and tastefully peppering the ample rump section of each girdle panty.
Living in a large, exquisitely furnished mega structure she liked to call a house in the suburbs of Sacramento, Lori believed that living large was not something that should be confined to a bra size.
“How’s it going, girl? Don’t tell me, California fell into the ocean and you need a place to stay?” I quipped.
My cousin’s laughter crackled over the phone line. “Good, no and yes.”
“Huh? Yes to what, California fell in the ocean, or you need a place to stay?”
Her laughter resounded in my ear. “The need a place to stay part. I was thinking about flying in for a day or two if you are up for some company.”
“Wonderful!” I gushed. “I was hoping you would come back home for a visit soon. And of course you’re staying here. I wouldn’t
have it any other way. When are you thinking about flying out?”
“Um, well…that’s the thing. I’m in the Sacramento airport on standby. They just told me that unless something drastic changes they think they’ll be able to put me on the red eye tonight.”
“Standby?”
“Yeah, standby,” Lori confirmed with a nervous laugh that was very out of character for her. “You stand by and watch everyone else fly off into the sunset. Standby.”
That made no sense to me at all. Lori was the kind of gal that flew first class, so for her to be at the airport, waiting for the first available seat—well, it just didn’t make sense.
“Sweetie, is something wrong? Are you having business problems?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she assured me with such an air of confidence, I knew something was up.
“Man problems?”
“Gertie,” she said with what sounded like a forced laugh. “Can’t I fly out and visit my favorite cousin on a whim? I’ve missed you, girl.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I admitted. “But are you sure everything is okay?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Everything is great.” She changed to the business-like Lori I knew and loved. “Don’t bother picking me up at the airport, Gertie. I’ve already arranged for a car to meet me in baggage claim at Indy International. So with any luck, I should be there in time for breakfast in the morning if you don’t mind a ten o’clock breakfast.”
“Le Peeps?” I questioned, my mouth watering at the thought of their pecan French toast and buttery hash browns.
“Le Peeps it is, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Have a good flight,” I said before realizing she had already ended the call.
My mind was a whirl of activity as I put my cell phone in my pocket. Something major was up for her to fly anything less than First Class. What the heck was she doing flying standby? All sorts of scary reasons ran through my mind as I walked up the staircase to the guest room to make sure all was ready for her arrival. The very guest room that Sam slept in last night. I thought of the erotic kiss we had shared in the hallway. A delightful tingle electrified my limbs as I recalled the feel of his lips pressed against mine.
I gave a happy sigh as I plumped the pillows on the guest room bed and smoothed the coverlet.
“Gertie…”
The eerie whisper came from behind me, lingering as the husky sound echoed. Every hair on my arms stood straight up. I turned around, my heart in my throat with the thought of what I might see standing behind me.
Nothing. There was no one in the guest room, other than myself. At least no one I could see.
“Over here, Gertie,” the familiar voice said again.
Holy Christ on a cracker, what was that? My first instinct was to dive under the bed and stay there, my eyelids pressed together tightly until Sam arrived for our date.
“No. Hell no! I am not hearing what I think I’m hearing.” In my mind, I tried to tell myself it was just my imagination working double time from having seen my grandmother in the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. I hoped someone had come in while I was readying the guest room for Lori, but I knew better. I was certain I had slid the dead bolts on all of the outside doors and locked all the windows too, both upstairs and downstairs. I wasn’t taking any chances. Didn’t seem to matter though, because someone—something—was here. Yes, deep down, I knew what I was hearing.
Making my way down the hallway to my own bedroom, I veered to the left side of the room, slid next to the bed and reached behind the nightstand, grabbing the heavy wooden baseball bat I had stashed there. It was common knowledge most single women slept with baseball bats for protection and who was I to mess with that formula. Better safe than mugged I always said.
With the semi deadly weapon held tight in my grip, I tiptoed to the right side of my bedroom and to the bathroom doorway. Taking a deep breath for courage, I flicked on the light and peeked inside. Nope, nothing hiding under the pedestal sink. No muggers popping out of the toilet bowl. I eyed the shower curtain. With the tip of the bat I drew open the shower curtain, breathing a sigh of relief when that too yielded nothing or more important, no one.
I took another deep breath to steady my nerves as I made my way back down the hallway, this time to the study. I held the thick wooden bat out in front of me. All was quiet on my side of the closed door. Holding my bat at the ready, I flung the door open, ready to charge at a moment’s notice. The room was empty and all was still. The only sound was the soft tick of the wall clock and my heart pounding against the walls of my chest. I jumped when my stomach gave an unruly gurgle. Apparently, being scared out of my wits made me hungry.
I left the comfort of the doorway. In the middle of the upstairs hallway, I shivered as a sudden chill permeated the weave of my loosely knit sweater. It was like standing in front of an open freezer door. Frigid air tingled over my arms, raising gooseflesh wherever it touched.
Fear coursed through my body and adrenaline raced through my veins. I walked to the end of the hallway to close the window I must have forgotten to shut earlier in the evening. Odd. It was closed and locked up tight as a drum. Humph. Something strange was going on and I didn’t like it, not one little bit. Where the hell was that blast of cold air coming from?
Still with a death grip on my Louisville slugger, I descended the stairs. Doing a complete walkt
hrough of the first floor, I switched on lamps as I went from room to room, until the entire downstairs blazed with lights, even though the late afternoon sun was still streaming in the windows. The additional light served to prove one thing. There was no one else in the house.
Had I imagined the whispery voice?
No, I don’t think I had.
I nibbled on my lower lip, my gaze darting back and forth as I tried to assess the situation. I knew no one was there, that much was obvious. I stood at the bottom of the staircase, uncertain of what to do. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brief flash of movement by the telephone table at the top of the landing on the second floor. When I gave the area a second glance, I saw a mirage-like waver of the air with the briefest twinkled flash of light. I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision. Then it was gone, as fast as it had appeared.
Leaving the lights on, I forced myself to go back up the stairs, past the telephone table and return to my bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed with the television remote in my hand, trying my best to push the incident to the back of my mind. Even though I knew there was nothing there, I couldn’t seem to shake off the jitters.
“Gertie Ann Sugarbaker, this is crazy,” I said in a pep talk to myself. “Why should you sit here, scared out of your mind, you nitwit?” My mind made up, I picked up the phone and punched in numbers.
“Yeah? Valentine here,” Sam said into the phone in a business-like manner. My heart skipped a couple of beats as I heard the smooth, rich baritone of his voice.
“Hi, it’s me. Are you busy?”
He chuckled, low and soft. “Hello me. No, I was just finishing up some paperwork before I head over there to pick you up in another hour or so. Why? What’s going on, Gert?”
“I think someone was in my house this afternoon.”
“What do you mean, ‘In your house?’ Are you sure?”
I told him about the faint voice I had heard calling my name.
“You mean someone was in the house with you? Or were they outside a window? What are you trying to say, Gertie?” His tone of voice sounded alarmed.
I nibbled on my bottom lip again. What was I trying to say?
“I don’t know, Sam. I was in the guest room, getting it ready for my cousin and I heard my name being called.”
“Did it sound like it was coming from within the room or from far away, like outside of the window?”
“That’s the weird part,” I said. “It sounded like it was coming from in the room, very near my left ear in fact. But the voice sounded faint and far away at the same time.” I paused, realizing how crazy that sounded. “Do you understand what I mean?”
“Strangely enough, I do.”
“And there’s something else. I know it’s only April, so it’s not like we are in the middle of summer or anything.” I hesitated.
“Yes,” he said. I could sense he knew what I was going to say next.
“Well, when I heard the voice I grabbed my baseball bat and headed out into the hallway and I swear you could almost see your breath, it was so cold.”
“Planning on playing baseball, were you?”
I gave a forced giggle. “No, but a girl has to have protection, you know.”
He let his breath out in a whoosh. “Listen Gertie, I’m heading over there right now. Just sit tight and I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“All right,” I said, grateful. “And Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
His voice was warm and tender. “Not a problem, Gertie. You call me anytime you need to.” With that, he hung up the phone.
My pulse continued to race as I ran into my bathroom and pulled out my makeup case. I was scared for sure, but not too scared that I would let Sam see me sans makeup. I had my priorities after all. After I finished making myself presentable, I went back downstairs, my heart racing as I passed the area by the telephone table on the upstairs landing. Downstairs, I dragged one of the dining room chairs next to the front door and perched on the hard wooden chair, my back to the wall and a wary stare combing every inch of the room as I awaited Sam’s arrival. With every light in the house on, there wasn’t a single corner for the entity to hide in but even so, my heart jumped in my throat and I almost fell out of my chair at the sound of the doorbell.
“Interesting,” Sam said as I opened the door, the corners of his mouth twitching. “A blowout sale on light bulbs at Ace Hardware and no one bothered to tell me. Damn, another missed sale.”
I don’t know if it was my lack of laughter at his poor joke, the baseball bat I held with a double-fisted grip that alerted him that something was amiss, but the next thing I knew Sam was holding me in his arms and the baseball bat clattered to the floor.
“Are you all right? You look white as a sheet.” His voice was full of concern.
I shrugged one shoulder in what I hoped looked like a nonchalant motion. Not an easy thing to do when someone is hugging you tight, but I managed. I wanted to tell him I’d imagined the voice. I must have. But yet, it happened, I knew it did and I think he knew it as well. Someone or something had called my name. And not once, but twice. And what was really startled me, was the voice sounded just like my dearly departed grandfather.
Eighteen
It was no surprise to me that Sam came up empty handed on his search of my house. He claimed that in his world, this was an everyday occurrence. What bothered me was it was becoming an everyday occurrence in my world as well.
Now, an hour later, my mind was going a hundred miles a minute as we delved into the thick juicy burgers the waiter had just delivered to our table. Hubbubs not only made a fabulous burger, but their beer was always icy cold and their fries crispy and steaming hot. My focus was anywhere but on my food tonight though.
“Medallions,” I said. “We need to get religious medallions.”
“Excuse me?”
“Magnetized religious medallions,” I repeated, staring Sam in the eye. “Like the kind that fell out of my bedroom wall during the earthquake. You know, the Saint Ubaldus medallion that we used to close that portal thingy. One of those magnetized ones.”
“I recall the medallion. I’m just not sure why you think we need one. We aren’t warding off vampires, you know.”
I gave an exasperated sigh, resisting the urge to whack him on top of his sexy head with my burger. I took another bite, chewing methodically while I thought.
“By shoving the medallion in the portal we negated that portal ever being used again as long as the medallion remains in place, Gertie. So why get another one?”
“You believe in good ghosts and bad ghosts, right?” I waved my pickle spear, stabbing the air with pointing motions as I spoke.
“Sure. I believe there are good energies and bad energies. Call them ghosts, spirits or whatever you like.”
“Well,” I stabbed in the air again with my pickle. “What if I told you a good ghost has been chatting with me, telling me I need to ground the demon to the lower levels he escaped from, with a magnetized medallion, such as the one that popped out of my bedroom wall during the earthquake.” I leaned back against the cushioned booth.
“I would tell you I’m no ghost.”
“What?”
“Last night after Timmy left I explained the theory to you about magnetized medallions sealing the portal, thus grounding the entity trapped on the other side. Or rather, one should hope the entity is on the other side when you seal the portal or you’ll end up with the problem we’ve now got. I’m sorry about that, Gertie. But honesty, I don’t see how getting another medallion is going to clear up our issue.”
I swirled a crisp strip of fried potato in the pool of ketchup on my plate. “Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly.”
“I heard you loud and clear. We need to find a place to buy magnetized medallions. That’s not the problem, I can get Amanda on that first thing in the morning.”
Somehow I doubted that. It was more than apparent that Miss Amanda
had quite the allergy to anything resembling work.
He took a huge bite of his thick burger, seeming to be in deep in thought as he chewed. Swallowing he said, “The problem is I don’t see why we need additional medallions. But not to worry. Like I said, if that’s what you want, I’ll get Amanda on it right away.”
I fought back the urge to say good luck with that. Instead, I said with politeness, “thank you.” It would seem Sam had a severe case of selective hearing. I didn’t push the matter though, because I was having a hard enough time trying to come to terms with the fact that I had chatted with my deceased grandmother in my bathroom during the wee hours of the morning. Maybe if I ever sorted it out in my mind Sam and I could have this conversation again. But in the state my mind was currently, I didn’t think it would be anytime soon.
~ * ~
After dinner, I tried to keep my mind on the movie, but had someone asked me, I couldn’t have told them the title or even if it was a comedy or an action film. The act of sitting in the dark, my hand enveloped in Sam’s hand while his other arm draped across my shoulder, was soothing.
I was disappointed when he removed his arm. But the disappointment turned to warm shivers when he used that hand to stroke my hair. And when he bent his head to mine, pausing to nibble on my ear lobe, I melted right on the spot.
I turned my head to look at him. He took advantage of the opportunity by pressing his lips against mine, increasing in intensity as I responded with a soft moan. There is nothing so sensual as a tender kiss in a darkened movie theater.
“Gertie?” he asked several kisses later.
“Yes?”
“Do you know what this movie is about?”
“No. I don’t have a clue,” I admitted.
“Neither do I. How about we cut out of here and go someplace more private?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” I breathed huskily.
Moments later as we stood next to his car while he unlocked the passenger door, he slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I leaned into him, relishing the heat radiating from his body. I pressed a hand against his shirt-covered chest, smiling as I felt the rapid beat of his heart against my palm. Knowing my nearness excited him caused my own excitement to flow off the charts.