“No! Loxley found a treasure, over there, but I told her to put it back. And then when we tried to leave, the door started shaking and we couldn’t get out. We didn’t touch a thing! I swear!”
“Swear!” Loxley repeated, raising her hand as if she were ready to pledge on a stack of Bibles.
“Fine, but don’t come back up here without my permission. I have traps in place, and you’ll get hurt.”
“Fine,” I said, aggravated at her lack of compassion. Didn’t she realize a ghost could have gotten us? Loxley took off out of the room, but I lingered a moment.
“Deputy Passeau came by today looking for you. He says you’ve been behaving badly down at the river. He’s going to arrest you, Jeopardy Belle, if he catches you doing bad again.”
“Is he?” She struck a match and smoked a thin cigarette. Likely one of Momma’s. “Did he tell Momma?” She smiled gleefully.
“No, he told Aunt Dot, and she wasn’t happy about it.”
“I wish he would have told Momma. That would have been better. I wish he would have told her. I would have loved to have seen her face.”
“Why do you do this, Jeopardy? Why do you always have to make trouble? Why do you hate Momma so much? Why can’t you let sleeping dogs lie?”
“Get out of my castle, pie-face! And don’t come back.” She got in my face and poked my chest with her finger. I was a full foot taller than her, but it didn’t matter. She was stronger; she was always stronger than me. “If you side with my enemy, then you’re my enemy too, Harper.”
“I have never been your enemy, Jeopardy,” I said as my heart broke and the tears came unbidden. “Please go to Momma. Tell her you’re sorry. We can be a family again. Daddy would want us to love each other.”
“Get out!” she screamed angrily.
And I did, suddenly unafraid of any ghost or spirit. The only thing I had been afraid of, losing my sister’s friendship, had happened. I had crossed the line, and she would never forgive me.
Never ever.
Chapter Nineteen—Harper
Aunt Dot left a trail of sad faces behind this morning. I think all of us Belle girls had halfway hoped that she’d make the change of address permanent, but it wasn’t to be. In the end, Aunt Dot looked tired, too tired to continue caring for Momma, who had obviously decided at some point that she didn’t need her sister’s help anymore. She’d dressed and decided to go to the ladies’ auxiliary meeting at the church. Augustine Hogue would be there too, and thankfully, I wasn’t asked to accompany them. Jeopardy had come home early this morning silly-giddy. I suspected she had been drinking, but I didn’t ask her. I don’t think our other sisters noticed.
“Hey, I have an idea. Let’s have a party,” Jeopardy said with a giggle.
“Like a birthday party?” Loxley asked expectantly. “Whose birthday is it?”
“Nobody’s birthday, silly goose. It’s just a party. You can have a party for no reason at all if you like. Let’s turn on the radio and dance.”
Addison coughed up a storm but didn’t object. When she finished hacking, she said in her perpetually squeaky voice, “We don’t know any dances. Show us some of your dances, Jeopardy.”
“Okay, but you have to be my partner, Addie. No, you have to try. Now stand like this.” Loxley and I giggled as Jeopardy showed Addison how to properly hold her partner; her left arm around Jeopardy’s waist, her right hand in hers. They looked like the top of a wedding cake, except with two girls, not a bride and groom. Even Addison laughed as they shuffled through the waltz. “It’s hard to teach you when you won’t stop laughing,” Jeopardy complained good-naturedly.
“Teach Harper, Jeopardy. She’s going to be the Harvest Queen at school.” Loxley clapped and then strutted around the room waving as if she’d won the award herself.
“Really? First I heard of it.”
“I’m not the queen, and it’s no big deal,” I said defensively while casting a warning eye at Loxley.
“Oh yes it is a big deal. You should see the dress Momma gave her to wear. It’s blue with star sparkles all over it. She looks like Miss America.” Loxley ignored my warning stare and offered more waving and an over-accentuated prissy walk. Addison roared at her antics.
“I don’t walk like that, Loxley!”
“Who’s taking you to this dance, Harper? Not one of those Harvester boys, I hope.”
I shook my head. I knew who she was talking about. How could she think I would go to a dance with Troy Harvester? I alone knew how she felt about him. Our conversation from our walk home from the river rang in my head. “Nobody. I am going solo, Jeopardy. Is that so bad?”
“Yes, that’s terrible,” she said with her hand cocked on her hip. “Don’t y’all think that’s terrible?” Our sisters agreed with Jeopardy.
Loxley quickly added, “Maybe you could invite Ray Loper from church? I am sure he’d look fine in a suit.”
“Yuck. No thank you.”
“Loxley’s right. You should tell Ray to take you. He would. I know he would. I’ll talk to him if you like,” Jeopardy said with a cryptic smile.
“Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to go to the dance with anyone.”
Jeopardy’s smile disappeared. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. Let me teach you some moves, Harper, so you don’t embarrass us all.”
“Fine,” I said as I surrendered to Jeopardy’s tutelage. We must have lost track of time because before we knew it, Momma’s car was pulling in the driveway. I thought maybe Jeopardy would run upstairs since she hardly spent any time in Momma’s presence anymore, but she didn’t. She walked in behind us with her arms crossed.
“You girls hungry? My, you all look so pink-cheeked. What have you been doing?” Momma unpacked a casserole and took the tea pitcher out of the refrigerator.
“Dancing! Jeopardy has been teaching us.” As always, Loxley volunteered too much information. She couldn’t help it, I knew that, but I wished she’d shut up from time to time.
“Just the waltz,” I added. “Can I help you with something, Momma?”
“Get the plates, Harper. Why don’t you collect the silverware, Jeopardy? Addison can pour the drinks.”
We all set about our tasks; even Loxley folded napkins. For one moment, I pretended we were a normal family; I enjoyed the feeling, but those moments never lasted very long. Actually, they were quite dangerous. They lulled you into believing that all was well. It never was. Not at our house.
Momma put the dish on the table, along with some bread. I knew right away Jeopardy wasn’t going to touch it. It was spaghetti with stewed tomatoes. If there was anything Jeopardy hated, it was a stewed tomato. Raw ones off the vine or sliced with salt and pepper were okay, but not slimy, stewed ones. She’d gotten sick on them years ago and never forgot that sickness. Even today they made her gag. Still, Momma slopped a big old pile of the pasta and tomatoes on Jeopardy’s plate and plunked it down in front of her. Jeopardy flashed her an I-hate-you look and then sat back in the cane chair with her arms still crossed.
“Harper, you say grace, dear.” Momma bowed her perfect, pretty head and folded her hands. Everyone followed suit, except Jeopardy, who continued to bore holes into the top of our mother’s head.
“Dear Lord, bless our food. Make it nourish our bodies, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Whenever asked to say grace, which wasn’t often, I always used Daddy’s prayer. I couldn’t help but think about Daddy now. He loved to slurp his spaghetti noodles. He didn’t cut up his pasta and eat it politely. Spaghetti nights at our house had been fun, once upon a time. And completely free of stewed tomatoes. Jeopardy ate the bread and then started to get up when Momma put her fork down.
“Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t excused you yet. There’s been far too much laxity of decorum around here while I’ve been down with my arm. Aunt Dorothy must have let you all run wild. Have you forgotten your manners completely, Jeopardy Harris Belle?”
Jeopardy didn’t speak bu
t wiped her face with her napkin. She wasn’t shaking in her boots, not like me. Addison was drinking her tea and looking green. Loxley alone enjoyed her feast, but even she ate with wide eyes as we watched the expected argument unfold.
“I asked you a question, Jeopardy. Have you forgotten your manners?”
Jeopardy banged her fist on the table. “Yes, I have. Do you want me to tell everyone when I lost my manners, Momma? Would you like the details? All those details? Maybe I should tell my sisters all about it too.” She banged the table with both fists now and stood up threateningly.
Momma leaned back, surprised at her oldest daughter’s outburst. I didn’t know why she would be surprised, but she sure acted like it.
“Don’t speak to me in that tone, girl! Do you all hear how disrespectful she is to your poor mother? All I tried to do was bring a nice dinner home from the church, and this is my thanks.” Nobody answered. The three of us, Addison, Loxley and I, kept our eyes on our plates as Jeopardy huffed in frustration at us—no, at me. What did she want from me? I couldn’t help her. What could I say that would help? Momma wouldn’t beat Jeopardy anymore, not since her accident, not since she saw that ghost, but she would certainly beat me. And I had a dance to go to. In that moment, I realized the horrible truth. I was tee-totally selfish, as selfish as selfish could be.
“Harper?” Jeopardy whispered hopefully, but I wouldn’t look up. All my promises to stick with her, to stay by her side, disappeared like fog on the water. The only sound you could hear in our kitchen was the sound of Momma’s chewing. She carried on with her dinner like Jeopardy was a rude stranger she hoped to ignore.
“Addison, please pass me the parmesan, dear.” With shaking hands, Addie obeyed and the rest of us sat and waited for the storm to either pass or explode.
With a sob of betrayal, Jeopardy left the kitchen. I heard her footsteps running up the stairs to her castle. Momma acted like she didn’t hear a thing. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin and smiled at Loxley. “Eat up like a big girl.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Loxley toyed with her food and cast a convicting glance in my direction. I couldn’t stand it. I had to go see about Jeopardy. We’d gotten so close over the past few weeks, and I’d let her down. What if she hurt herself? I couldn’t have that on my conscience.
“Momma, may I be…” Before I could finish my sentence, the radio in the parlor came on at full volume. It was Count Basie, playing I Want a Little Girl. Momma ran to the parlor to scold Jeopardy for playing with her radio, but she wasn’t there. Nobody was there. Jeopardy had gone upstairs anyway. How could she be in two places at one time?
The room was empty, and the air was icy cold.
Loxley stiffened beside me. Momma was talking to herself, accusing us of playing with the radio when she knew with her own eyes that was impossible. We were all here, in the parlor with her. And we had all been in the kitchen with her before that.
“Daddy’s here, Daddy and that lady. Something bad is going to happen,” Loxley shouted. Then she began to cry.
Momma lost her temper. “Shut up with that caterwauling, Loxley! You girls go to bed. I’ve seen enough of your faces today. Go on now.” Momma stood with her hands on her hips, her face filled with fear and confusion, and we did as we were told. I stayed with my younger sisters that night. Something was going on here, things were happening that I couldn’t see or understand, and no amount of persuasion would convince Loxley to stop crying and tell me. It didn’t matter. I had a duty to protect my sisters from whatever bad thing Daddy was trying to warn us about, for surely that was why he was here. He watched over us still, but he would need my help.
Oh, Daddy! Why can’t I see you? Help us! Help us all!
And later, when everyone was asleep, I would go upstairs to see Jeopardy. I had to tell her that I loved her.
That I was sorry for abandoning her, for being afraid, for not taking her side.
I stayed up for hours, waiting for Momma to go to bed. It was hard to pretend you were asleep when someone was watching you. Momma watched me for a full minute, even whispered my name, but I ignored her and hoped she wouldn’t drag me out of the bed as she sometimes did. She didn’t. God had at least heard my prayers tonight. Later, when the house got quiet, I crawled out of the bed and crept up the stairs, praying again for protection. Please, God, keep the ghosts away unless it’s Daddy.
When I got to Jeopardy’s door, I found it slightly ajar. I pushed it open, but she wasn’t there. My heart dropped as I walked to her open window. The air smelled like dirt and rain. Yes, it would certainly rain tonight, and it would be here soon. One thing you could be sure of around here were evening storms. It would be that way until fall truly arrived, and then it would be dry and windy.
I opened my eyes just in time to see my sister running through the backyard. And she wasn’t alone. A boy ran beside her, but who? I wanted to yell her name, but the risk was too great. What would happen if Momma knew Jeopardy had been off with a boy?
I shuddered at the thought. I heard footsteps in the hallway and became afraid that I wasn’t alone. What if the door-slamming ghost showed up again? I tiptoed out of the room and back downstairs.
There was nothing I could do about Jeopardy tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow I would call Aunt Dot. I would tell her that horrible things were happening here and how much we missed her. She would know what to do. Someone had to help us with Momma.
I walked into my room and found my borrowed dress removed from the closet and spread out on the bed. The beautiful dress Momma had lent me was torn to shreds like someone had taken a knife to it. No, scissors. A big old pair of silver-plated scissors were lying beside the destroyed garment. I’d never seen those scissors before. Who would do such a thing? Jeopardy? Momma?
What would I wear to the Harvest Dance now?
Jeopardy, how could you be so cruel? I didn’t mean to let you down. I was coming to apologize. My teenage heart felt heavy, and I cried myself to sleep clutching the blue fragments. Nothing would ever be right again.
Chapter Twenty—Jerica
Strange to think that the first social event I had at Summerleigh would be a ghost hunt. I wasn’t sure what else to call this…it certainly wasn’t a séance or anything like that. I kind of felt silly about the whole thing now, but it was too late to change my mind. Hannah, Renee and Jesse were here, although Jesse remained outside with the roofer, who had come to give me an estimate on the east wing. I was kind of glad he’d stayed out there.
Despite my reservations, I greeted the ladies politely and welcomed them into the old place. Hannah’s eyes grew big. “Wow, so this is Summerleigh. I can see why you’d want to fix this place up. What a grand old lady! What will you do with her when you get the job complete? Will this be your family home, or do you have something else in mind?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. I’m not much for planning too far ahead anymore.”
Hannah was tall, taller than me, with large eyes and a thin figure. Simply dressed in a blue and white dress, she had an old-fashioned purse on her shoulder that she clutched like someone might steal it. Maybe it was her lucky talisman and comforted her. Maybe it held her lucky charms. I had no idea.
Hannah touched my arm sympathetically. “You made a promise to someone. Someone who lived here.” I nodded in agreement. She let me go and walked around the Great Room, stopping at the corner near the fireplace. “She was young back then, but she was old when you knew her. I can see her. She’s with us.”
“Yes, that’s right,” I said as I glanced at Renee suspiciously. “Harper Belle was a friend of mine.”
“I didn’t tell her a thing. I swear,” Renee whispered.
“Your friend is not the only one here, and I don’t think she stays here all the time. She comes and goes, but there are others who never leave.” Birds began chirping on the front porch; I had noticed a nest in the porch roof earlier. Their chirps created a strange echo through the empty house. Hannah walked
toward me. “Would you mind if I walked by myself for a little while?”
“Are you sure you want to?” I asked her.
“I’ll be okay. If you could stay here, that would help me focus on the other energies here at Summerleigh rather than the one that follows you.”
“Follows me? You mean Harper.”
“Oh no. This isn’t Harper Belle. This has to be a relative of yours. She looks very much like you, especially her eyes. Maybe a sister or a…oh, dear. I’m sorry. She’s your daughter. Mary? No, that’s not it.” Hannah closed her eyes and appeared to be listening. “Marisol, what a lovely name.”
“Yes, she was…she is my daughter. Is she here? Can I talk to her?” I tried not to cry.
“We can certainly talk to her, but there are others here, Jerica. We will come back to Marisol.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment, and she held my hands briefly. “I know you are eager to communicate with her, but that’s best not done in here. You don’t want to attach her to this place. No, you don’t want that. It’s best to leave the communication with her for later, at your own home so she won’t be confused about where to find you when she feels she wants to connect.”
“Okay,” I said breathlessly as I blinked back tears. Hannah touched my arm again and continued her survey of the room.
“Yes, there are too many others present,” she said, but I had no idea what she meant. “I’m coming up now,” she called up the stairs. “I’m not here to take anything or to harm you.” She paused at the bottom of the staircase and waved at us to stay back. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No, I want to go, too. As the homeowner, I can’t let you get hurt. I won’t say a peep, but you have to let us come with you. I know I’m not supposed to say anything but what I know—I mean, I guess that’s the rule—but there is a lady. She caused Ann Belle to fall. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
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