A Medium's Thanksgiving Table

by Chariss K. Walker

  Patrick reluctantly left and returned to the evacuation efforts of the first responders, but he kept one eye on the outskirts of the fire and on the woman he was falling in love with even though he shook his head in exasperation at her stubbornness.

  Several hours later when the blaze was contained, Becky helped those who had come to terms with their deaths. She gave messages to loved ones left behind. For some, that meant taking notes and making a promise to find them when things settled down. For others, it meant giving a verbal message as they listened in disbelief and then wonder. And sadly, for others, it meant reuniting departed spirits from the same family because in their confusion, they’d wandered away from the devastation.

  Jacob was invaluable during that aspect because with a description, he could track down the wandering ghosts and usher them back to Becky and their ghostly families. Children had immediately crossed over and some parents were crazed with grief and worry when they couldn’t find their babies. It took very little convincing to show them they would soon be reunited on the other side.

  Chapter 36

  It was late when Becky left the devastating scene, but as soon as she got home, Patrick sent a text that said, “Thanks again for a wonderful meal. I hope we can do it again soon and I hope that you are home safe.”

  She responded, “I enjoyed it too, and yes, I am home. How about coffee on Wednesday, my slowest day, and dinner again on Friday?”

  She didn’t feel the least bit self-conscious with Patrick and she knew his response would be positive. It was. She looked at the text message and smiled. It said, “Wonderful.”

  Even though she’d gotten very little sleep the night before and was exhausted, Becky opened the store on time that Saturday.

  Her first customer of the day was none other than, Patty Lawless. Patty wore a pleather red jacked and red knee-high boots with a red and white polka-dot dress. She looked completely out of place for Asheville’s laid back vibe, but that was Patty for you. She was over the top in just about everything she did.

  “Soooo,” her red lips puckered slightly as she dragged out the word and made sure the rest of the sentence was just as annoyingly drawn out, “you’re dating Patrick Burns. How did that come about?”

  Becky was tired and she didn’t relish any of Patty’s usual games, but she couldn’t ignore her either. That never worked out well for anyone. Instead, she answered with a question of her own, “So, Patrick Burns has a restraining order against you. How did that happen?”

  Patty was momentarily taken aback. She wondered how Becky Tibbs knew that. Then, the answer came to her. Patrick must’ve told her… and if he told her that, then he really did like the freak. That idea riled Patty more than anything. She’d intended to drop a few hints about him, to set some worries and concerns in motion. She’d always been good at planting seeds of doubt. It should’ve been easy to do since they were in the early stages of dating. It was her assumption that no one trusted anyone they dated in the beginning. Trust took time to cultivate. But, this time she had it wrong.

  She shook off her disappointment and forged on, “You know he was a bad boy in college.”

  “That’s peculiar because I heard you were a bad girl in college, practically moving in with men after only a few dates,” Becky countered.

  “Oh crap!” Patty silently exclaimed. “She knows about that too. Did the bastard tell her everything? That means this is really serious.”

  Patty wasn’t defeated and tried a different ploy, “You know, he won’t like you very much at all once he finds out about your freaky ability. Not many people could handle a crazy person who sees ghosts everywhere she goes.”

  “Did you hear about the fire last night, Patty?”

  “Yeah, what about it?” Patty replied thinking Becky was trying to change the subject.

  “Patrick was there working first response while I was there helping the ghosts of those who died. We worked side-by-side, each doing our jobs and he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, we seem quite compatible.”

  “It won’t last,” Patty muttered, but then her voice rose in volume, “It won’t even last until Christmas. It won’t last for more than a couple of dates. You’ll be all by alone this Christmas, Becky Tibbs. You wait and see.”

  “I plan to do just that,” Becky smiled her sweetest smile. “I plan to wait and see.”

  “You can’t have him!” Patty screamed in frustration. “He’s mine!”

  “Well then, I guess someone should let him know. Would you like for me to tell him when I see him next or do you want to do it?”

  Patty spun on her heels and exited the shop like a red blur while Becky actually giggled at the hasty retreat. It was the first time she’d ever successfully defended herself and she had to admit that it felt great.

  Jacob, Lois, and Myrtle laughed along with her.

  “Sounds as if someone is very secure in their new relationship,” he complimented. “Good for you, Becky. Good for you!”

  Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed Becky’s story, you can read more about this North Carolina medium in the following list of books as they are released. Follow me on amazon.com or BookBub.com for all my latest updates and new releases.

  Stay tuned for more books in the Becky Tibbs: A North Carolina Medium’s Mystery Series:

  A Medium’s Birthday Surprise, Book 1

  A Medium’s Thanksgiving Table, Book 2

  A Medium’s Christmas Gift, Book 3

  And more in this series coming soon!

  If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment to leave a review. A few words or sentences will do. Reviews are very important to every author. I know they are to me.

  If you missed the first book in this cozy mystery series, keep reading for an excerpt from A Medium’s Birthday Surprise. There are a few repeats, but that’s because each book is a stand-alone novel.

  A Medium’s Birthday Surprise Excerpt:

  Chapter 1

  Becky Tibbs, wrapped snugly in a gently-worn pink terrycloth robe and with her feet clad in her favorite purple bunny slippers, descended the stairs while attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. She softly padded into her large, cheerful eat-in kitchen on the first floor level of the family home where she had lived for… forever.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, thankfully set on a timer the night before, drew her like a magnet. If she’d ever needed the hot, caffeinated brew, she needed it on this bright, sunny morning. She hoped it would perk her up a little.

  She hadn’t slept well during the previous night. Truth be told, she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. Her night had been filled with foreboding and unsettling dreams.

  Becky always drank her coffee black. Fancy coffee shops with their exotic flavors and steamed milk choices were lost on her. Give her a good cup of dark roast anytime and she was happy. She hoped the strong, fragrant coffee would clear the cobwebs from her mind.

  She’d just filled a large mug, when suddenly she felt her long, unbrushed, coppery red hair lift at the back of her neck. A chill ran down her spine. Alarmed, she jerked around, sloshing her full cup in the process. The steaming-hot liquid scorched her hand.

  “Ouch! Dang it!” Becky complained as she quickly set the steaming cup on the counter. “Look what you made me do! Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s not polite to sneak-up on folks?” She’d planned to give the unexpected guest a piece of her mind, but stopped mid-sentence when she recognized her visitor, “What the heck… Josh… is that re-really you?” she stammered.

  “I’m sorry,” Josh said as he reached out to stroke her arm. His touch sent a chill slithering down her warm flesh. Then, he leaned forward, took her hand, and kissed her damaged fingers. His icy breath soothed the hot, burned skin immediately, but Becky secretly wished he hadn’t done that. She felt creeped-out enough already. She was shocked to see him. Josh looked at Becky with a lopsided grin, “I just wanted to surprise you for your birthday.”

  “You certainl
y did. I haven’t seen you in ten years and you show up like this?” Becky was flabbergasted. Her heart raced erratically and pounded so loudly she wondered if Josh could hear its booming thwack in her chest. She certainly could. Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump.

  “Well, don’t be mad at me, Becky. I love you,” His reply was quick and indignant. His stringent voice caused the clean plates in the dish-drainer to rattle. Becky moved back and away from him.

  “Look, Josh, this is so inappropriate,” Becky struggled to keep her voice calm. Her five-foot-five inch frame quaked with fear and trepidation as she looked up at him. She knew better than to rile him, “You’ve been gone a very long time and well…,” her words hung in the air between them.

  “That’s not really my fault, Becky. I stopped by to see you last night, but you were sleeping. I waited in your room and I checked on you several times. You never woke up. I wanted to see you so badly that I came back this morning.”

  Becky shuddered. That explained a lot, especially the restless night. It’s difficult to get any sleep when someone is watching you while you’re in such a vulnerable state. She felt exposed and tried to shake off the uneasiness of that thought as well as seeing Josh again after such a long absence.

  She certainly hadn’t expected to wake up to the sight of her long, lost boyfriend today. His presence after such a long absence scared the bejesus out of her. And, to be honest, she wasn’t easily surprised or frightened. Somehow, Josh had managed to do both.

  Becky inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her jittery nerves and then asked, “What happened to you anyway?”

  Josh only shrugged his lean shoulders in response. He looked the same as he had all those years ago: tall, young, his blond hair slightly punked like a rock star. He’d always had an appealing sad-and-lonely-artist-thing going on. Those traits seemed to be essential to all artists whether painters, novelists, or musicians.

  Josh was a budding musician back then. And, back then, she hadn’t been able to resist his allure. Now that she was twenty-six years old, however, it just seemed unsettling and out of place.

  “Where have you been all this time? I think you owe me an explanation.” Becky softly said, trying to keep her tone even and pleasant, trying not to upset him.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, looking away.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” Becky asked, gently prodding Josh again.

  “I remember dancing with you in the backyard under the sparkly lights your parents set up. We slow danced. Your folks were awesome. They were always so cool and thoughtful, making everything just right for you. Not like mine at all.” The last sentence sounded bitter.

  “My parents were great, Josh. They died five years ago,” Becky said. Josh fell silent and looked at his feet. He couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact with her. Becky carefully chose her next words, “What else do you remember?”

  Flashes of lights and people… loud noises… filled Josh’s mind. He shook his head back and forth several times as if trying to shake the images out of his skull. He felt pain… terrible pain in his head. Next, it seemed to center in his abdomen. He clasped his hands across his stomach and leaned over, gasping. Then, the pain traveled back to his head, ear-splitting anguish gripped him. Josh grabbed his head with both hands as if that would stop the onslaught of incomplete visions and torture, but he was still in agony.

  Becky watched Josh struggle for several moments. She realized that he was scared. Not just scared, but terrified. Worried about his condition and the consequences more than she wanted to admit, she asked, “Josh? Are you all right?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Josh said, his voice suddenly high-pitched.

  “I think we need to talk about it, Josh.”

  “Why? What good will it do?” he asked. His tone was icy and Becky knew what that meant. Trying to spark his memories had only succeeded in making him more agitated. It was evident from each clipped sentence he spoke next. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I came here to wish you a happy birthday and to see you because I love you. You’re my girl, Becky. You’ve always been my girl. Ever since second grade, you’ve been my Becky. Can’t you just let the rest of it alone? Can’t you just be happy to see me?”

  “So wish me a ‘happy birthday,’ Josh,” she whispered, trying to soothe the highly unstable friction.

  “Happy birthday, Becky,” he repeated but his heart wasn’t in it. He was already too far gone, too angry, and too volatile.

  She’d pushed him to remember and he didn’t want to remember anything about it. She didn’t know the reason for that, but she knew she’d have to find out. She’d have to help him if she could.

  As Josh’s frustration grew, Becky noticed all the signs of instability. The lights in the kitchen flickered off and on as if they were also irritated. The electrical charge seemed to spur his anger on. Static filled the air emphasizing his raw emotions.

  A harsh chilled air blew across Becky’s face. She took a deep breath determined to face Josh head on. She didn’t want to hurt him. She just needed him to see the truth.

  “Josh, look at me,” she calmly demanded. “What do you see?”

  He looked at her and then looked away; his response a harsh, noncommittal grunt. This wasn’t going to be easy, but Becky forged on. She’d been here before, she could handle it.

  “Do I look like a sixteen year old girl to you?” she softly asked. Josh stubbornly ignored her question. He wouldn’t even look at her for more than a few seconds. “Dang-it, Josh... I’m serious. Please, look at me. Do I look like I did the last time you saw me?”

  “You might if you had on the same yellow dress,” he said, mumbling so quietly she almost didn’t catch it. Maybe his reply indicated he was calm again. Becky hoped he was, and wishing for that possibility, she kept going with an ultimate goal in mind.

  “Josh, even that dress wouldn’t make me sixteen again,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice soft and gentle. “I’m not that skinny little girl any more. I’ve grown up. I live here alone in the family home because after my parents died I took over their family business. Look at me, Josh, please.” Becky continued to use all her skills, gently pleading with him, but when Josh replied, the contrast was so severe, Becky jumped back away from him.

  “Don’t do this!” Josh screamed; his high-pitched voice reverberated around the kitchen bouncing off the tiled floors and countertops. Too late, Becky realized even her best efforts had failed. She’d pushed him too hard and too soon. His mood-swing had zoomed from one to ten in milliseconds.

  Becky’s coffee mug shattered into a hundred pieces of sharp porcelain shards. The now warm liquid splattered her face, hair, and upper body. A splinter of broken glass barely missed her left eye. Her ears rang… painfully, causing tears to sting her eyes. She trembled from the dampness that clung to her and the anger Josh had displayed.

  She had to admit that Josh was dangerous, more dangerous than she’d imagined. Suddenly, Becky didn’t feel equipped to deal with him. She questioned her position in this knowing that she was also in pain. Hadn’t she suffered the loss just as much as Josh had?

  Becky shut her eyes and tried to calm herself again, but there was no calming this panic, this fear. Still, she knew in her heart that she was the only one who could help him. Didn’t she know Josh better than anyone else? When she opened her eyes again, hoping to try once more, the room was empty.

  And Josh… well, Josh was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Becky looked around the now deserted kitchen. Hot tears streamed down her freckled cheeks. Frustrated, she jerked a paper towel off its rack and haphazardly wiped at her face. The rough surface scratched her cheeks but she hardly noticed.

  This just shouldn’t have happened, she thought. I should’ve been able to help him. If not me, then who can do it? Who will do it?

  After Josh left, a distinct calmness settled over the room. She looked around for clues, anything th
at might help her understand how it had gone so wrong. Even though the kitchen was a mess, it remained utterly silent. She didn’t find any evidence that might show her how to fix this.

  Becky was a mess too. The coffee mug only held twelve ounces, but she felt as if she’d been drenched by a gallon of the brown liquid. She felt dirty after the encounter with Josh and she couldn’t wait to get a shower. She wanted to wash off the coffee stains and erase Josh’s angry display from her person.

  Just as she finished cleaning up the broken coffee cup pieces from the counter and floor, the phone rang. She hurriedly swept the pile of shards into the dustpan, dumped it into the trash can, and answered the call on the third ring, nabbing it just before the recorder could pick up.

  “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Becky, happy birthday to you!” her brother’s deep baritone voice sang out the familiar tune. Becky laughed aloud. The last few terrifying minutes spent with Josh were happily pushed aside for the moment. Leave it to Bobby to call at the perfect moment to lift her sagging spirits.

  “Aw, thank you, Bobby,” she said with heartfelt sincerity.

  “I thought you could use a pick-me-up this morning.”

  “You’re very astute as always,” Becky replied.

  “I sensed you weren’t having such a great morning. So what happened?” Bobby asked.

  Although Becky suspected that her brother already knew most of it, she answered, “Josh showed up to wish me a happy birthday and it didn’t go well.”

  “Josh?” Bobby asked in surprise. “Do you mean the Josh that ditched you on your sixteenth birthday?”

  “The one and only,” Becky replied. Then, she recapped their brief, torrid exchange and conversation. By the time she’d repeated the story, the horror of it didn’t seem as terrifying as it had while happening and Becky began to relax. She had regained faith in her abilities to figure out a way to help Josh.