The Ghost and the Bride

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything about this to Lily,” Danielle said.

  “You mean about your feelings for your late husband?”

  Danielle glanced up at the ceiling, praying Walt would not make a sudden appearance. “Umm…yes. And maybe we should change the subject.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes when Pamela asked, “Can I tell you something, and keep it between us?”

  “Certainly. Haven’t we already made a pact to keep each other’s secrets?”

  “I can’t help but wonder if Kent had an affair before the accident. I think maybe that’s why he was in Morro Bay, seeing his lover.”

  “Did you suspect he was cheating back then?” Danielle couldn’t help but think of Lucas, how he had been having an affair and how she had been totally oblivious to the possibility.

  “No. Never. But it really is the only thing that makes sense to me. I know he didn’t want me to know about him going to Morro Bay that day. He was supposed to be at work. And I keep thinking, while an accident might wipe out a memory, would it really destroy what’s in someone’s heart? Maybe Kent had already fallen out of love with me, and he was just faking it—for whatever reason not ready to end our marriage. And then, with the accident, he lost his memory, and those feelings of love were already gone, so he just wasn’t able to go back to a place where we once were—because he had moved from that place before the accident.”

  “It doesn’t mean he was having an affair. And I’ve heard about people who’ve come out of comas and can’t remember anything, and end up getting a divorce because of it.”

  “Well, Kent was never in a coma. But I guess the result is the same.”

  Danielle glanced over to her dresser, where several photo albums were stacked. She had forgotten about them. Laura had brought them to her room earlier; they were for Thursday night’s bachelorette party.

  “I think I better warn you about something,” Danielle told her.

  “What?”

  “Laura brought some photo albums with her; she thought it would be fun to bring them out during the bachelorette party. You know, a trip down memory lane.”

  “What kind of photos?”

  “I know some are from your wedding. But considering everything, it might be too painful for you. Especially if you’re trying to put up a good face for Lily until after the wedding.”

  Pamela sat up straight on the sofa. “Actually, I’d love to see them. Can I?”

  “Sure.” Danielle stood up, walked to the dresser and retrieved the photo albums. When she returned to the small sofa, she handed the stack of albums to Pamela. Danielle sat back down on the sofa and watched quietly as Pamela flipped through the pages. Instead of the tears Danielle had expected, Pamela wore a calm and wistful smile as she perused the memories.

  After about five minutes, Pamela paused at one page. “It’s our wedding portrait. That was such a fun day. Kent looked so handsome.”

  “Can I see?” Danielle asked, scooting closer to Pamela.

  Pamela moved the open album closer to Danielle, setting half of the book on Danielle’s lap.

  Staring down at the wedding couple in the photograph, Danielle froze, her gaze locked on the groom. “Who…who is that?” Danielle stammered, pointing at the man at Pamela’s side.

  Pamela chuckled. “He really looks different without that damn beard, doesn’t he? God, I love those dimples.”

  “Are you saying that’s Kent?”

  Pamela laughed. “Who else would it be? I’ve only been married once.”

  Picking up the album, bringing it closer to her face, Danielle stared intently at the man in the wedding photograph. She could see it now, the resemblance to the flesh and blood Kent staying in the downstairs bedroom. The same eyes and nose. It was a full-body shot, and Danielle could see the man in the photograph was obviously the same man Pamela had introduced as her husband. At least the body was. He was the same height, similar build. Perhaps the Kent she had met was a bit slimmer, less muscular, which was not a surprise considering he had been convalescing for over a year.

  “Pamela, does Kent have a twin brother?”

  “Twin brother? No. He has two younger sisters. Why?”

  Abruptly, Danielle handed the album back to Pamela. “I just remembered something I have to do. If you’ll excuse me.” Not waiting for a reply, Danielle leapt from the sofa and rushed from the room.

  “I think I know who our ghost is,” Danielle blurted to Walt when she dashed into the parlor a few minutes later, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. This was after first checking the attic, library, kitchen, and living room for Walt.

  Walt, who had been sitting on the couch, watching television—the sound low—looked to Danielle as the television turned off.

  “Who is he?” Walt asked.

  “Kent’s twin brother.”

  “He has a twin brother?” Walt frowned.

  “According to Pamela, he doesn’t even have a brother,” Danielle said, slightly out of breath. “She just showed me her wedding photo. The Kent in that photograph is a dead ringer for the ghost.”

  “Dead being the operative word,” Walt said with a grunt.

  Danielle sat next to Walt on the sofa. “Kent without a beard looks exactly like our mystery ghost. I knew the ghost looked familiar! He resembled Kent, it just didn’t dawn on me because of that heavy beard. It’s the eyes and nose. They’re the same. I guess it’s possible he’s just a brother and not a twin. But they are definitely related.”

  “If Pamela says her husband doesn’t have any brothers, perhaps this ghost is Kent’s father—or grandfather. Which would explain the close resemblance,” Walt suggested.

  “I remember Lily saying Kent didn’t even remember his parents after the accident. I’m pretty sure they’re still alive. And considering the clothing the ghost was wearing, I don’t see it being a grandfather who has passed.”

  “It’s always possible Lily was referring to a stepfather, not a biological one,” Walt reminded her.

  Danielle sighed and slumped back on the sofa. “I guess the only way we’ll know for sure is if he tells us. But maybe now, now that we know there is some close connection between him and Kent, hopefully we can get him to talk to us.”

  Twenty-Three

  Walt roamed the halls of Marlow House all Tuesday evening into Wednesday. But there was no sign of the ghost. Walt wondered if perhaps he had finally moved on. If that were the case, it wouldn’t prevent him and Danielle from forever wondering who he had been—and why he had been there—yet Walt preferred dealing with unquenched curiosity as opposed to a random ghost playing peekaboo. He suspected the unresolved mystery would annoy Danielle more than himself.

  Breakfast had ended a few minutes earlier. Walt had left the noisy bunch, some still lingering in the dining room, others helping in the kitchen, while he chose the sanctity of the parlor. He missed his attic, but with Cory using it for the week, he was finding the young man’s untidiness grating. He had just settled on the sofa and conjured up a cigar when Lily and Ian rushed into the room, quickly locking the door behind them. Walt heard Lily giggle.

  Glancing up from the sofa, Walt watched as Ian pulled Lily to the parlor desk and leaned back against it as he pulled her into his arms.

  “What were we thinking? Having them come for ten days?” Ian asked with a laugh, putting his arms around Lily, bringing her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his nose.

  “I was ready for everyone to go home after three days.” Lily giggled. “Are we awful?”

  Walt surmised they hadn’t noticed his cigar smoke. He briefly considered moving to another room and giving them some privacy; however, he had come into the parlor first, and he had already given up his attic for Lily’s brother. Instead of leaving, Walt willed the paperweight on the desk to rise into the air before it dropped back onto the desk, making a loud thumping sound, sending the startled couple jumping up and away from
the desk.

  Lily looked at the paperweight and then sniffed the air. Removing herself from Ian’s embrace, she turned toward the sofa, stepped closer, gave another sniff, and then smiled. “Morning, Walt. I guess we sort of barged in on you.”

  A throw cushion lifted up a few feet from the couch and then fell back down.

  “You are on the couch?” Ian asked Walt.

  Once again, the throw cushion lifted up a few feet before falling back down.

  “I take that as a yes. Sort of like the salt and pepper shakers,” Lily said with a laugh. She grabbed Ian’s hand and led him to the chairs facing the sofa.

  “Salt and pepper shakers?” Ian asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” Lily said as she sat down in one of the chairs while Ian took the chair next to her.

  “I guess I shouldn’t complain,” Ian told Walt. “You turned the attic over to Cory all week, and I understand that’s what you consider your personal space.”

  “It was really sweet of Walt.” Lily grinned at the seemingly empty sofa.

  The next moment the sound of pawing came at the closed parlor door. Ian started to stand up, but then the door opened and in rushed Sadie, tail wagging. The door closed again and locked.

  Ian stared at it a moment and shook his head, still not used to the continual proof that Walt really did haunt Marlow House.

  Sadie ran first to Ian and Lily, gave them each a quick sniff and nudged them with her nose, her tail still wagging. She then turned and went directly to the sofa, planting herself on the floor next to it, half her body under the coffee table as she curled up to take a nap.

  “Sorry to intrude,” Lily told Walt. “But we really did need to get away from them for a minute. Our sisters keep harping about a damn beach ceremony, and Cory is teasing Mom about her claiming to see Grandma’s ghost. He can be so annoying.”

  “And my mother keeps lecturing me about how I shouldn’t bring Sadie over here,” Ian grumbled.

  Sadie glanced up to the couch to where Walt sat and let out a whimper, her tail once again wagging.

  Ian smiled. “But I can see you two have become good friends.”

  The throw pillow rose again and then dropped back down.

  “You know, Walt, if you get a little bored this week, I wouldn’t object to a little lighthearted haunting of the attic,” Lily said with a mischievous grin.

  Ian turned to Lily and chuckled. “You’re awful. But you know, that will only encourage my sister.”

  Lily shrugged. “Those stories are out there anyway. And really, who cares? It probably is good for business.”

  Ian glanced at his watch. “We have about five more minutes; then we should probably get out there and round everyone up for today’s adventure.” He sounded less than enthusiastic.

  “It’s going to be fun.” Lily looked from Ian to the sofa. “We’re going out in a yacht today,” Lily cheerfully announced.

  “It’s owned by a friend of mine,” Ian explained. “He lives in Montana, but leaves it here. As a wedding gift, he hired a captain to take us out today.”

  “And then tomorrow night is the bachelor and bachelorette parties,” Lily explained. Yet Walt already knew that.

  “You know, it really doesn’t seem fair. Walt is going to be stuck here with all you girls,” Ian said. “He should be going to the bachelor party.”

  “What’s wrong with us?” Lily asked with a pout.

  “I’m just saying Walt should go to the bachelor party.”

  “He can’t leave Marlow House,” Lily reminded him.

  “Why don’t we switch? You have your bachelorette party at my house, and I’ll have mine here.”

  Lily looked at the sofa. “What do you say, Walt? Would you be interested in going to Ian’s bachelor party?”

  The throw pillow rose again and then dropped.

  “I admit, it made me feel good that Ian wanted me to go to his party,” Walt told Danielle later that morning. He sat with her in her bedroom as she prepared for the outing on the yacht.

  “I imagine a few people are going to wonder why the switch, but I agree. It was sweet.”

  “And confess, you would rather hang out with all the ladies without wondering if I’m eavesdropping.”

  It was true. But Danielle wasn’t going to admit it. Instead she said, “I feel a little bad about leaving you here alone today. I should stay and help you keep an eye out for our ghost in case he shows up.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You go have fun. It would disappoint Lily if you didn’t go. Anyway, I’m fully capable of keeping watch for him. And it’s entirely possible he’ll show up on the yacht. After all, Kent will be there.”

  “Yes. That’s true,” Danielle agreed.

  Walt stood in the entry hall and watched as Lily’s family filed from the house, everyone seemingly chattering at once. Ian had left with his family earlier, heading back across the street before taking off to the marina. He had left Sadie behind, and once again his mother had questioned if that was a good thing. After all, she reminded him, Danielle had a cat. Was it really safe to leave the two alone? Danielle had then spoken up, assuring Mrs. Bartley that Sadie and Max were old friends, and reminding her of the doggy door. This way, Ian didn’t need to make arrangements for someone to take Sadie out while they were gone for the afternoon.

  Walt noticed him before Danielle—the mystery ghost trailing behind Pamela and Kent. In a flash, Walt placed himself in front of the ghost, his hand raised in a halting gesture.

  “I know you are somehow related to Kent. Please, stay and talk to me,” Walt urged.

  The ghost stopped and studied Walt, his expression inquisitive. “How do you know that?”

  “Danielle—she’s the woman who owns this house—she saw a photograph of Pamela and Kent—a wedding photograph. She told me you look exactly like Kent, without a beard. So we figure, you are either a long-lost brother—maybe his father—but definitely someone related to him. Am I right?”

  “You’re close. But not close enough,” the ghost said.

  “Will you stay—please. Let’s discuss this after they leave,” Walt urged.

  Danielle was the only one who could hear the conversation, although it was difficult to do considering all the other chatter going on around her. She found herself slowing down, letting the others leave the house before her, so she could hear what was being said.

  The ghost looked at the doorway, watching as Pamela and then Kent walked through it. It was if he was trying to decide if he should go or stay.

  “They will be returning later this afternoon,” Walt told him.

  After a moment of consideration, the ghost gave a nod and then stepped out of the way, watching the people walk outside. Danielle was the last to leave. She paused a moment at the open door, looking back at Walt and the other ghost. She wanted desperately to be part of their conversation, but she knew Lily wouldn’t understand if she stayed. After a sigh, she flashed Walt a smile and walked outside, closing the door behind her.

  Sadie, who had been napping in the parlor, was awoken when she heard the front door close. Jumping up, she dashed into the entry hall to find Walt and the ghost looking at each other. She had seen him before—the ghost with Walt—she knew what he was. He hadn’t been particularly friendly at their first meeting.

  The exodus of the houseguests had also woken Max from his slumber. He sauntered panther-like from the living room and then sat next to Sadie. Together, Max and Sadie curiously watched Walt and this new ghost.

  “So which is it?” Walt asked. “A long-lost brother? Father? Perhaps a cousin with an uncanny resemblance to Kent?”

  “Neither. I am Kent Harper.”

  Walt frowned in confusion. “Are you saying the man with Pamela is an impostor?”

  “Something like that.”

  “How does she not realize he isn’t her husband?” Walt asked incredulously.

  “Because he’s using my body.”

  “Using your body? I don’t understan
d.”

  “As close as I can figure, my spirit somehow left my body, and before I could return, he moved in. So now I’m dead, and he has my body, my life, and my wife.”

  Walt shook his head in confusion. “I don’t even know how that is possible.”

  The ghost shrugged. “I don’t understand it myself. But here I am, dead, with no one being able to see me. Except for you, of course, and other ghosts—and a few people like your Danielle.”

  “Do you know who he is?” Walt asked. “The man who took your body?”

  “He was one of the men killed in the same accident I was in. Well, at least his body died. Considering the damage done, there was no way they could have brought him back. So now I’m stuck in this hellish limbo. Forever destined to follow around the woman I love and watch as he makes her life miserable.”

  “When you say stuck—do you mean you’re unable to move on to the next level?”

  “From what I’ve learned from other spirits I’ve met since the accident, that appears to be what is happening. Some move on, others like me—and I suspect you—are trapped here.”

  “Kent—can I call you Kent?” Walt asked.

  “Please do. It actually feels good to have someone acknowledge me by my name.”

  Walt smiled and then motioned to the mirror hanging in the entry hall. “I’d like you to try something. Go look into the mirror.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it. I’ll tell you why in a moment.”

  With a shrug Kent walked across the hallway and looked into the mirror. Staring back at him was a faint reflection of himself. “So?” he asked.

  Walt stood beside Kent and looked into the mirror. Walt had no reflection.

  “It appears, Kent, you’re not dead. You’re having an out-of-body experience. Unfortunately, someone else is using your body.”

  Twenty-Four

  Standing at the attic window, looking outside, Walt watched the sun disappear behind the rooftops across the street. From what he had overheard earlier, they intended to be home before nightfall. Walt grew anxious, remembering the fate of his own yacht, the Eva Aphrodite, and the lives lost. Of course, he didn’t imagine there were pirates in the area, and the weather was calm.