by K. J. Emrick
Richard turned to me with that special look of his that I remembered so well. As long as I lived on this Earth, I would never find another man who looked at me that way.
He nodded his head, ever so slightly, and then slowly faded away.
There were no words. He didn’t say a thing, and he didn’t have to. I got the message he was sending me. I had been wondering what Richard would think of the woman his daughter had grown into, and the choices she was making now. He was telling me he approved.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
I realized there were tears in my eyes and I wiped at them with the back of my hand. “I’m fine, Carly. Really. I’m just—”
The bannister on the stairs creaked as a hand gripped hold of it. Carly and I looked up to find a man all in black staring down at us. Under shaggy black hair, a pair of piercing silver-gray eyes watched us intently.
Disturbing, was the best word to describe Mister Brewster.
It was impossible to tell how old he was. He was more or less a permanent resident of the Pine Lake Inn. For as long as I can remember, he’s been staying with us here. Recently, I’d begun to wonder about him. Where he was from. Why he was always here. What he did to earn money, even. I didn’t know anything about him. He’s never done anything to me or to anyone else here at the Inn. Nothing that would make me say he’s dangerous. He just sort of makes me want to be somewhere else whenever he’s around.
Apparently Carly felt the same. She backed away from the stairs, closer to me.
Smiling at us, Mister Brewster continued his way down the steps, to the bottom. “I’m glad to see the two of you together,” he said, although I wasn’t sure if he was saying it to me or Carly. “Family is so important, don’t you think?”
Then he walked into the common room. The lights were still off in there, yet Mister Brewster went to take a seat. In the dark, he sat very quietly, staring into the blackness of the room.
Carly took my hand, and together we started up the stairs.
“You have some odd people staying here in your Inn,” she whispered when we got to the second floor. “That one’s in a league all his own.”
“He always pays his rent on time,” I said, and I’ve said it so many times before. Then we were outside the door to her room, and I gave her another hug. “We’ll talk more in the morning?”
“Yes. Um. I’m going to call Drew before I go to bed.” Her face brightened as she said it. “Can he join us for breakfast?”
“I’d like that.” I didn’t even have to pretend I meant it. After all, if this was the man that my daughter was going to fall in love with, I’d need to get to know him better.
I waited just long enough to make sure Carly locked her door behind her. Good. Things were getting weird in our town again. A locked door could only do so much but it made me feel better.
After all, mothers worry about their kids.
My room was up on the top floor, all the way to the end of the hall. It’s a bit grander than most of the others in the Inn, even if it’s not the biggest. Room number nine, the Honeymoon Suite, has more floor space to be sure but I’ve had a few things done to my room to make it feel more homey. It’s got a real closet, and shelves lined with books and knick knacks, and just last month I had the walls painted the same yellow color as the outside. Used to be all in pink, but I got tired of feeling like a princess all the time.
Taking my key out of my pocket I stepped almost gratefully closer to the door, already dreaming of a hot shower and then falling into bed. Something told me that no one in town was going to be getting much sleep over the next few days. Me most of all.
Only I had to stop short as Lachlan Haliburton faded through the wall next to me and stood between me and my room. “Will you please stop that,” I said to him, more annoyed than I was scared. Lachlan’s tricks used to freak me out. Not anymore. “I’m tired. Let’s play charades tomorrow, okay?”
He pulled a face at me, and then quite literally changed that blocky face of his into the one I’d seen him take on earlier. The old woman, with that long silver hair and those deep wrinkles. Yes. He was definitely trying to tell me something. Right now, I really didn’t care.
“Lachlan, go away. I swear I’m going to start hanging garlic outside my room to keep you away.”
His face snapped back into his own when he heard that, and he gave me this glare. He knew garlic has no effect against ghosts.
“Fine,” I told him, “then I’ll find some holy water or whatever it takes to keep you away from here. This is my room, understand me? This is my private space. You seem to think you have a standing invitation to… oh, never mind. Just go away.”
Turning toward the wall where he came from, Lachlan nevertheless looked back at me over his shoulder. In his eyes there’s something almost sad. Like he knows something is about to happen but he can’t tell me what it is. Like he wants to help.
“Well, fat lot of good you did earlier, wouldn’t you say?” I crossed my arms and returned his look with one of my own. “You want to be so helpful why didn’t you tell me about this whole Chalice thing before it happened?”
He shrugged, in his old-timey clothing, and once more he let his face slip into that of the old woman. Then he walked right through the wall and he was gone.
On the other side of that wall was room eleven. It was empty right now, and so there was no guests for Lachlan to bother, but I wondered if he made a habit of wandering through my guests’ rooms just to see what was going on. Maybe that’s where he got all this information that he delighted in passing on to me from time to time. Maybe we should print a warning on the brochures for the Inn. Caution, ghost voyeurs!
Then again, maybe this was one of those cases where people were better off not being told the whole truth.
Inside my room, finally, I stripped off my clothes on the way to my ensuite bathroom. There’s nobody in my life anymore to care if I drop clothes on the floor and leave them there. Nobody to see if I’m a slob, and nobody to watch me take a shower, either. Kind of miss that last part, tell you the truth.
Well. The little carved eyes of the unicorn necklace were watching. Only that.
I study my own face in the mirror, finding each and every gray hair, each new line around my eyes. I’m getting older. No stopping it. Each day that passes means one less chance to find true love. A woman doesn’t need a man to be complete, and I know that. Just helps on the long nights. Like the one I’m about to have right now.
After the shower, just before I get into bed, I feel my husband’s hand resting on my back. He used to send me off to sleep this way, caressing little circles in between my shoulder blades. It’s a memory this time, not his ghost. He doesn’t visit me in bed. Maybe he knows how hard that would be for me. Maybe he remembers when I had James in here with me.
No, I don’t need a man to be complete.
Sometimes, a woman just wants what she wants.
The morning came early for me. It always does. I’m usually awake before the sun comes up, checking on how things went during the night and making sure everything’s ready to roll for the day. I was dressed and downstairs at seven o’clock, in time to see both Janus our night shift clerk getting ready to leave and Ikon our day clerk ready to start. Janus yawned. Ikon was bright-eyed and smiling, holding a fresh cup of coffee.
“Have one of those for me?” I ask him, pointing to the takeaway cup.
“Next time, Boss,” he said. “Promise.”
Ikon was a tall man, dark skinned and athletic and always quick with that smile. He was bright and eager to please, too. I was lucky to have found him answering my help wanted ad.
Boss. That’s what he calls me. His pet name for me, I guess.
Is it appropriate for an employee to have a pet name for their boss?
Just as I’m thinking that I saw Jess appear behind Ikon, this time in her heavy metal t-shirt and with her hair, its natural blonde color today, hanging loosely about her shoulders. She smiled at me, a
special little smirk, as her gaze kept flicking toward Ikon and then back to me.
Shut up, I tried to tell her with my eyes. He’s my employee. That’s all.
She rolled her eyes at me, telling me how stupid I am, and then disappeared again.
I was going to have a talk with that Jess. My social life was not her concern. Just because she couldn’t have one from beyond the grave did not mean she was going to start living vicariously through me. Not that there was anything going on for her to see. Ikon is a friend. An employee and a friend.
“See you later, Boss,” he said to me, logging into our computer to get ready for the day.
Boss. Heh.
Yes. I was definitely going to have a talk with Jess.
In the kitchen, Marco Bastoni was banging pots and pans on counters at a volume that would have woken the dead, even if they weren’t already roaming the halls of the Pine Lake Inn.
My two kitchen employees were pulling double duty again today as both servers and short order cooks, and it truly looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here.
“No, no!” Marco shouted. “Marco can not work like this. You will beat the eggs, you will whisk the sauce. You will not beat the sauce and whip the eggs!”
Dear God, I hope Rosie delivers soon. The Inn needs her back something fierce. Marco might be talented but he certainly wasn’t a good fit for our place.
He saw me at that exact moment as he spun around and slapped at a whole row of hanging ladles, making them jangle and swing on their hooks. “Ah! Dell, there you are. You will tell Marco. Have you ever heard of whipping eggs? Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“You’re the chef, Marco,” I hedged. “I just run the place. So long as you can put breakfast on the table for our guests that will be fine. Listen, you’re going to hear something today, some bad news that’s going to hit the town. It might affect the businesses here. If we start losing customers, I may need to cut back on your hours.”
“What!” I watched, as his face turned red and he began pacing back and forth between the center island and the countertop. A very short step for a man of his size. “This is not tolerable. This is not the way Marco does business. I am a chef! I am an artist! Marco is the best thing to ever happen to this little town and now you tell me something is going to happen to keep Marco from making a living?”
“No, nothing like that. Look, it’s not something definite, it’s just—”
“Bah! Marco can not stay where he is not wanted!”
He picked up a wooden spoon from the counter, just to toss it across the room where it hits the wall and bounces, soundlessly, into the air. It fell to the floor at Lachlan Haliburton’s booted feet.
The ghost was leaning against the wall—more or less—with his arms crossed over his chest. Glancing down at the wooden spoon he gave a slow shake of his head. When he looked back up at me, he hooked his thumb at Marco.
Can you believe this bloke?
I’m starting to understand Lachlan. Fantastic. That’ll keep me up nights, right there.
What’s worse is how Marco is about to walk out of the kitchen in a huff, and there’s nothing ready to serve guests when they start coming in for breakfast.
My two employees in the kitchen give each other a high five as soon as Marco’s back is turned. I can’t blame them, I suppose, but I need to make sure the Inn can make money and that’s gonna be mighty hard to do if there’s no cook for the meals. “Marco, wait!”
Before I take two steps into the dining room, my mobile rings. What now?
I had my answer quick enough.
Happy Birthday plays loud and clear as I take the phone out to answer, reminding me that my friend is about to single-handedly raise Lakeshore’s population by two.
“Rosie? What’s wrong?”
The call was full of static, and I could have sworn there was a second voice on the line covering that of my friend. “Oh, Dell… can ya come right over? I’ve got these… pains, and I just—”
“Pains?” Fantastic. Absolutely perfect. Never rains but it pours, even here in Australia. “Rosie, I’ll be right there. I’ve just got… There’s a thing I’m dealing with here. Just… no. Nevermind. I’ll be right there.”
I stabbed the red end button harder than I needed to and turned to my employees. “You two… make some eggs. Something. I’ll be right back and we’ll figure out breakfast. And wipe off those smiles, hear me? This is serious!”
Pushing back the strands of my hair that had decided to fall across my forehead, I quickly followed after Marco. I caught up to him in the foyer as he was grabbing his hat off the coatrack to the side of the main doors.
“Marco, wait,” I called out for him.
From right beside him, right through the wall, Jess came walking in. Her face set in a scowl, her hair black as night and falling in waves past her shoulder, she gave a very mature raspberry to Marco Bastoni.
I couldn’t agree with her more, but I needed Marco. As much as I want to boot the man out back of Bourke with a swift kick to his arse, without him I’ve got nobody to run the kitchens.
“No,” he said before I could get another word in. Swinging around with his hat in hand, he narrowly missed Jess with a wildly dramatic gesture. “I must go, Miss Dell. Marco is too proud to stay where his work will not be appreciated.”
Jess was waving her hand through the air in front of Marco’s face, not necessarily with all of her fingers, and all I can say is it’s a good thing I’m the only one in town who can see the collection of spirits I’ve got inside these walls.
Marco tried to slam the door on his way out, again and again, but the pneumatic hinge defeated him. He grumbled at the stubborn device and then in the next moment, he was gone out to the carpark and getting into his car. And that, I was fairly confident, was the last I was going to see of the self-proclaimed artist, Marco Bastoni.
“Hey Boss. Are you, er… you okay?”
Ikon. I wish I’d remembered he was standing there before I started running after Marco and all but begging him to stay. Although really it had been Marco who started the whole thing, when you get right down to it. The petty man-child was a guest in my kitchen. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way.
“Dell?” Ikon asked me again.
“Oh. Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine. Except…” Big breath, Dell. “I don’t have anyone to prepare breakfast. I mean, I guess the servers could do it… make eggs and bacon and such. Maybe one of the housekeepers knows how to make something.”
“I can do it.”
“Or we can just do pikelets. Can’t go wrong with those.” Except, I tend to burn them, and I have to go check on Rosie, and dash it all I can’t be in two places at once!
“Dell.”
Finally I turned to Ikon, realizing he’s been trying to say something all the while I was lost in my spiraling thoughts. “I can cook. Grew up in a large family. Brothers, sisters, even an uncle. Our house was always full. I know how to cook a meal for more’n myself. Let me give it a go.”
“Seriously?” If that was anywhere close to true, then Ikon had just saved my bacon. Maybe literally. He really was a great guy. Guess there are still a few of those around.
I’d lucked out with Richard. I’d lucked out with James, too, even if he had decided to go a different way from me. I really didn’t expect to find another good man here in Lakeshore.
Especially one with eyes that shone that particular shade of golden brown. I found myself looking into those eyes for maybe a few seconds longer than I should have, and wondering why I couldn’t find the words to thank him.
Then I remembered that Rosie had just called. She needed me over at her house, right now.
“Ikon, hand me the keys to the loaner car. I’ll be back.”
“You got it, Boss,” he said as he plucked the keys from the pegboard behind the check-in desk. “Anything I can do?”
“Make some food for us in the kitchen, and be ready for anyone who comes in wanting to eat. Thank
you, Ikon. Seriously.”
“Aw, don’t mention it,” is what he said to me. “Just remember it when I ask for a raise.”
Outside, as I was getting into our compact sedan, I tried to text Rosie. She wasn’t answering anything I sent her, including the emergency message we use when we need something in a hurry.
The Inn’s on fire.
Nothing. Of course, one of these days the Inn really will be on fire and whoever gets the text will assume it’s the other one needing a favor or asking if we have a room available for a friend. Still, Rosie should have answered that.
She didn’t, and now I was so worried that I squealed the tires on the way out of the driveway. Was she having the babies now?
Was something wrong?
I gave the Inn a glance in the rear view as I drove onto the sloping hill of Fenlong Street. I hoped that Ikon was as good as his word. I could stand to have a man like that around again.
Frowning at my own reflection now, I ran those words back through my mind. Odd way to think about one of my own employees.
The last good man in my life had stormed out and disappeared on me. Off to go chase his dreams on the mainland.
Oh, James. Where are you when things are starting to get crazy?
Chapter 4
I was sitting on Rosie’s couch. Again. I swear I’ve been over here so often in the past few days that there’s a groove worn into the cushions in the shape of my backside.
“I’m sorry,” Rosie said, again. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was at death’s door.”
The call had been broken, and I was still sure there was another, ghostly voice trying to get through to me at the same time. Rosie had seemed surprised to see me bursting in through her front door in a panic. Nala had just looked upset, because as you might’ve guessed, nothing was wrong.