The Ghost and the Baby

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The Ghost and the Baby Page 7

by Anna J. McIntyre


  Walt and Danielle exchanged quick glances and then looked back to Marie. “What happened? Is this about Marlow House closing? If it is, we’re okay,” Danielle said.

  Marie frowned. “What do you mean Marlow House is closing?”

  “Umm…our business license was revoked, but—” Danielle began, only to be cut off by Marie.

  “No, no.” Marie waved her hand dismissively. “This is about Adam.”

  “Adam?” Danielle asked. “What’s wrong with Adam?”

  “I stopped over to see him, and Melony was there. Melony does not want children!” Marie cried before flopping down in one of the chairs facing the sofa.

  “Oh…” Danielle muttered.

  “And do you know what is worse?” Marie asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “No. What?”

  “Adam doesn’t want children either! How can he not want children? What about my great-grandchildren?”

  “You do have another grandson,” Walt reminded her.

  “But he isn’t Adam! That’s why I stayed, to make sure he would get married, settle down, have babies. And I thought that was going to happen with Melony—that I would be able to see them start their life together.”

  “Is it Melony or Adam who doesn’t want children?” Walt asked.

  “It’s both of them,” Marie grumbled. “If it was just Melony, I would start looking for someone else for Adam. But Adam claims he doesn’t want them either. So what would be the point? And I do so like Melony. How can she not want children? Maybe if she wanted them, she could change Adam’s mind. If anyone could change Adam’s mind, it would be Melony. But they actually agree on this! What am I to do?”

  “I’m just curious why you went to the cemetery,” Walt asked.

  “To visit my parents. I needed someone to talk to. Of course, I didn’t expect to actually see them, they have moved on, but I did come across a couple of lingering spirits. Unfortunately, they were absolutely no help. I didn’t even bother discussing this with Eva, she told me once she never wanted children, so how would she understand?”

  “Maybe she could help you understand Adam and Melony’s point of view?” Danielle suggested.

  “I’m not sure how that’s going to help,” Marie grumbled.

  “Marie, I understand your disappointment,” Danielle began gently. “But you have to know deep inside that it would be wrong for Adam to have children if it was not something he really wanted. It would be wrong for the children too. Maybe they will change their minds—but maybe they won’t.”

  “Why don’t they want children?” Marie asked sadly.

  Danielle considered the question a moment. “I can’t speak for them. But maybe in Melony’s case it has something to do with her own childhood. Same for Adam. Neither one had a great relationship with their parents. Maybe they’re afraid. Maybe they don’t feel capable of being good parents. Or maybe they just don’t want kids. Marie, it is a big responsibility. And if someone doesn’t want children, they shouldn’t have them.”

  Marie let out a sigh. “Maybe they’ll change their minds.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes while Walt and Danielle quietly ate their burgers. Suddenly Marie sat up straight and blurted, “What do you mean your business license was revoked?”

  Danielle went on to update Marie on what had happened to her business license and what they planned to do with Marlow House.

  “I could have told you Pearl wasn’t related to the Morton family,” Marie said.

  “What happened to Elmer Morton?” Walt asked.

  Leaning back in the chair, Marie crossed her ankles. Folding her hands in her lap, she said, “It was probably twenty years after your death; he fell down the stairs at the funeral home. He was alone when it happened, and when he didn’t go home that night, Maisy Faye went looking for him. She was the one to find him at the bottom of the stairs. They said he had been dead for a couple of hours.”

  “Maisy Faye?” Walt muttered. He then smiled and said, “Maisy Faye. I knew a Maisy Faye once. Beautiful young woman, with golden curls. I haven’t thought about her in years…”

  “It definitely was not the same Maisy Faye. This one was one of the twins, and I think she was about three when you died,” Marie told him.

  With arched brows Danielle looked to Walt. “Hmmm…do I need to be jealous? The way you say Maisy Faye’s name sounds like there was a little something going on,” she teased.

  Walt’s faraway look quickly passed and he flashed Danielle a sheepish smile. “No. There was nothing between us…at least…I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t know?” Danielle couldn’t help but chuckle.

  He shrugged. “Her face came to me immediately when Marie mentioned the name—and I remember her voice. But I can’t recall exactly where I knew her. Maybe in college—or she might have been one of Angela’s friends.”

  “Whoever she was, it was a different Maisy Faye,” Marie said matter-of-factly.

  “From what Norman Bateman told me, the twins were Maisy Faye and Daisy Faye. But his mother, Maisy Faye, goes by Faye now,” Danielle explained.

  “I don’t recall ever knowing the babies’ names. Someone might have told me, but if they did, I don’t remember. I was never on friendly terms with Elmer,” Walt said.

  “Adam told me a little about their story. How Daisy ran off with Maisy’s fiancé,” Danielle said.

  “Ahh yes, it was quite the scandal back then,” Marie said. “Especially with the disinheritance.”

  “So what was that all about?” Danielle asked.

  “The twins were a few years older than me,” Marie began. “Identical twins. One of my friends used to call them pinup girls—because of their extraordinary looks—and figures. Mr. Morton was raising them on his own. Daisy was the trial, always testing the limits, wild as a March hare. Frankly, I expected her and one of her beaus to be walked down the aisle at the end of a shotgun, considering her reputation. But Maisy was such a sweet thing. She took care of the house, looked after their father, never got in trouble, and was engaged to a war hero.”

  “And then Daisy stole Maisy’s boyfriend?” Danielle asked.

  “Yes, but before that happened, Mr. Morton went to his attorney and had Daisy written out of the will. He’d had it with her. I’m not sure what happened exactly—what was the final straw—but there were rumors he walked in on Daisy in a compromising position with a man. Some said it was a married man. But you know rumors.”

  “Did Mr. Morton fall down the stairs after Daisy ran away with Maisy’s boyfriend?” Danielle asked.

  Marie shook her head. “No. A few days after his attorney wrote up the papers, there was the accident at the funeral home. Daisy was supposed to move out of the house next door—her father had basically evicted her. But after he died, Maisy begged her to stay on. With her father’s unexpected death, she didn’t want to stay at the house alone. The lawyer said that since the house was Maisy’s now, Daisy could stay if her sister wanted.”

  “Did they ever suspect Daisy might have had something to do with her father’s fall?” Walt asked. “After all, he did disinherit her.”

  Marie shook her head. “No. According to the family attorney, Mr. Morton was willing to put Daisy back in the will if she straightened up. Maisy had more to gain with her father’s death, and she would never have hurt him. Plus, Mr. Morton was not a young man, and he had a bad leg, so a fall wasn’t especially surprising.”

  “How long after their father’s death did Daisy run away with Maisy’s boyfriend?” Danielle asked.

  “It was about two months later. The two girls were staying together at the house next door. When her sister was not around, Daisy would shamelessly flirt with Kenneth, her sister’s boyfriend. Everyone was talking about it. But poor Maisy seemed utterly clueless. And then one day they were gone. Just like that. They left a note telling Maisy they were sorry but that they had fallen in love.”

  “She loses her father, then her fiancé and her si
ster?” Danielle said sadly.

  “It changed her. Which I can understand, I suppose. She became bitter, withdrawn. Maisy stopped seeing her friends. She sold the house—although, from what I understand, she had already sold it before her sister ran off. At the time she planned to move into a new house as a new bride—with her new husband. She hadn’t expected her beau to run off before the wedding. Maisy did move into the new house, but alone.”

  “She obviously got married, had a son,” Danielle said.

  Marie nodded. “Yes. After her father died, she let the man who worked for him run the mortuary, but he was out of his element. It was too much of a job for him. She ended up rehiring someone who had once worked for Mr. Morton. From what I understand, he had left Morton Funeral Home to take a better job in Portland. But Maisy managed to talk him into coming back and taking over the business. About a year after her sister’s betrayal, they were engaged. They built a new—larger—more impressive home, where they moved into after their marriage. That’s the one she still lives at, with her son, Norman. In fact, it’s right down the street from the Glandon Foundation.”

  “What happened to Norman’s father?” Danielle asked.

  “He died years ago. He was much older than Maisy.”

  “Were they happy?” Danielle asked.

  “I suppose. Although, we were never friends. We had both grown up in Frederickport, basically knew each other most of our lives. But as to the state of her marriage, I have no idea.”

  “According to Norman, the sisters stayed in contact until Daisy’s death.”

  Marie nodded. “I had heard that. In some ways it always surprised me because of how Maisy withdrew from all her friends after Kenneth ran off with Daisy. And it wasn’t just Maisy who was forever changed by Daisy’s actions. Millie Samson’s brother-in-law killed himself over it all.”

  “Why?” Walt asked.

  “It was Millie’s husband’s older brother, Lewis. It was before Millie was married. Lewis and Daisy had dated off and on. He was crazy about her. And when she took off with Kenneth Bakken, he drove his car off Pilgrim’s Point. It was heartbreaking for the family, especially for Millie’s husband. He worshiped his older brother. But like I said, that was before he and Millie were married.”

  “According to Norman, Kenneth Bakken died fairly young,” Danielle said.

  “Yes. It was a couple of years after they ran off. They were in another country—I can’t remember where—maybe Greece—but he got sick, died. Family was heartbroken. After he ran away with Daisy, he never again saw his family or the friends he left behind. And from what I heard, he only sent a few postcards.”

  “Why?” Danielle asked.

  “Kenneth had always been well respected. Frankly, I think he was ashamed. Daisy could be very seductive. I always wondered if he ever came to regret what he had done. Maybe even right before he died. But by then, Maisy had already started a new life; she was married. Although I could be wrong and maybe Kenneth was perfectly happy with his choice. I just always thought it was sad that he didn’t reconcile with his family before he passed away.”

  Eleven

  It had been over three weeks since Walt and Danielle had returned from their honeymoon, and April was just around the corner. The raffle for the local high school’s art department would be ending soon, and Walt and Danielle hoped the new sign would be delivered before spring break.

  Walt was on the side patio with Danielle, helping to clean up the outdoor kitchen after a recent rain, while discussing what work needed to be done in the yard and if they should do it themselves or hire Craig Simmons.

  “I ran into Craig in the hardware store,” Danielle told Walt as she wiped down the covered barbecue. “He’s pretty busy right now. I guess he’s going to do some work for Pearl, but he can’t start until after spring break.”

  “I was wondering what was happening with that,” Walt said as he repositioned the patio chairs. “I saw him over there and heard him say something about getting her a bid on the work. I haven’t seen anything going on over there since then, figured Pearl changed her mind.”

  Danielle paused a moment, a damp rag in one hand, and glanced over to Pearl’s house. “No, she didn’t change her mind. He just can’t do it right away.”

  “It would be nice if he could talk her into pulling out those dead rosebushes in back,” Walt said.

  “I don’t know why she wants to keep them. But who knows why she does anything she does?”

  Hands now on his hips, Walt surveyed the side yard. “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to doing the outside work myself. We don’t need to hire Craig.”

  “Seriously? I thought you said you never worked in the yard before, always hired someone.”

  Walt shrugged. “I don’t know. I think after being stuck inside for almost a hundred years, looking out at all this, it might be rewarding to work in the soil. Trim up the bushes, get the yard in shape for summer.”

  “I don’t mind working outside. And now that we don’t have guests every week, I wouldn’t be opposed to working in the yard with you,” Danielle said.

  Next door to Marlow House, Pearl stood at the corner windows in her upstairs bedroom and looked down at her neighbors’ house. Walt and Danielle were in their side yard cleaning up. Pearl didn’t understand why anyone in Oregon would want an outdoor kitchen, considering their annual rainfall. But she didn’t really care about the Marlows’ outdoor kitchen now that she knew it would no longer be used to entertain bed and breakfast guests. She couldn’t imagine how noisy summers might be in the Marlows’ side yard if they were still operating a business. When Pearl looked out her bedroom window, she didn’t want a bunch of strangers looking up at her. If she had her wish, Marlow House would be vacant, as it had been when she had been a child. Turning from the window, Pearl headed downstairs.

  Just as she reached the first-floor landing, the doorbell rang. Picking up her step, she hurried to answer the front door. When Pearl opened it a few moments later, she found two teenage girls standing on her front porch. One was a short brunette; the other a tall willowy redhead. Each wore jeans and a Frederickport High School sweatshirt.

  “What do you want?” Pearl asked the teenagers.

  “Hello,” the brunette chirped. “We’re selling raffle tickets to raise money for the high school art department.”

  “I don’t need any raffle tickets,” Pearl grumbled as she started to shut her door on the girls.

  “But you could win a week at Marlow House Bed and Breakfast!” the other teenage girl said quickly.

  Pearl paused a moment and then instead of shutting the door all the way, she opened it again. Frowning at the girls, she said, “Marlow House Bed and Breakfast is no longer open.”

  “But it is!” the brunette insisted, holding up the raffle tickets. “And we’re selling chances for a free week at Marlow House for spring break! I know it’s just next door, but if you win, you could give the prize to a friend or family member or stay there yourself and enjoy a gourmet breakfast every morning and dinner every evening.”

  Pearl snatched one of the tickets out of the girl’s hand. “Let me see that.” With a frown, she stared at it.

  “There will be four winners because they have four rooms. So if you bought more than one ticket, it would be possible to win more than one room!” the brunette told her.

  Staring at the ticket, Pearl shook her head. “No, this is not right. Marlow House Bed and Breakfast closed down. They can’t be renting rooms.” She handed the ticket back to the girl and said, “You can’t sell these.”

  “We’ve been selling them all month. Raffle ends tomorrow; this is your last chance to buy one,” the redhead told her.

  Pearl shook her head. “You will obviously have to give the people their money back because this raffle is illegal. And if you don’t, I will have to talk to the police chief.”

  “Police Chief MacDonald?” The redhead frowned. “He bought two tickets.”

  “Then he doesn�
��t know! I’ll just have to go down to the city and talk to Mrs. Keats,” Pearl snapped. “She’ll take care of this!”

  “Mrs. Keats? Umm, that’s Cindy’s mom. She bought four tickets,” the brunette told her.

  Pearl slammed the door shut on the girls.

  Someone was ringing the doorbell at Marlow House, and it appeared the person’s finger was glued to the doorbell, considering it kept ringing over and over again. Walt and Danielle had come in from outside five minutes earlier, and Walt was in the library, and Danielle was in the kitchen. Upon hearing the insistent ringing, they both stepped out into the entry hall at the same time and looked at each other and then glanced toward the door. The doorbell stopped ringing, but now someone was pounding on the front door.

  “Who in the world could that be?” Danielle asked as she hurried to answer it, Walt by her side.

  “Don’t open it until you see who it is,” Walt warned.

  When they reached the door, Danielle peered out the peephole. There, standing on her front porch, pounding insistently on the door, was Pearl Huckabee.

  “It’s Pearl,” Danielle whispered. She looked around quickly and asked, “Where’s Max?”

  “He’s sleeping in the library.”

  Danielle nodded and then opened the door to Pearl, who was just preparing to knock again.

  “What’s with the pounding?” Danielle asked. “Is there a fire or something?”

  “If you think I’m going to sit around and watch you flagrantly break the law, you are mistaken!” Pearl shouted at Danielle.

  “Mrs. Huckabee, if you have something to say, say it. But if you yell at my wife one more time, I am shutting this door, and if you don’t leave our property, I am calling the police,” Walt told her sternly.

  Pearl glared at Walt. “Oh please, our property. You just married her for her money. Everyone knows. Just because your last name is Marlow, it doesn’t make this your house. It’s your wife’s house, you gigolo.”

 

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