by K Carothers
Erin nervously hit the talk button on her cell phone. Luke was calling.
“Hi,” she said, sitting a little more upright in the overstuffed chair near her bedroom window. Moonlight streamed in onto the thick gray carpet in front of her, turning it to a light silver.
“Hi, Erin. How are you?”
The sound of his voice in her ear set off the butterflies inside her again. “I made it through my first day back in New Dublin in one piece. How about you?”
“I made it through my first duel in one piece,” Luke responded with a dry laugh. “Jesse’s going to be fine. Colin O’Reilly took him to surgery, and he told me the boy’s recovering well. He was really impressed with what you did.”
“How about Connor? Is he in a lot of trouble?”
“They’re both in a lot of trouble. Connor was arrested and released on bond, but it could have been worse for him—a lot worse. We tracked down a couple of boys who were there when the shooting happened. You know how kids are these days; they record everything. I watched the video, and it was unbelievable, Erin. Connor really hadn’t shot Jesse on purpose. When they walked the twenty paces and turned around, he never raised his arm to fire. The gun only went off after Jesse hit him in the left arm and he jerked that way. It was a one in a million shot, and clearly hadn’t been intentional. But the real kicker is, if Connor had actually tried to shoot Jesse before the gun accidentally discharged, he probably wouldn’t even have come close to hitting him. The only gun he’d ever used before today was a BB gun.”
“That’s crazy,” Erin said, glancing out the window. She could see the pond in the distance, shimmering in the moonlight.
“Neither of the boys will say who or what they were fighting over, and no one else is talking. But the DA doesn’t figure he’ll go after either kid for attempted murder. He sends his thanks, by the way. You made his job a whole lot easier today. And Mayor Murdock wants to thank you personally.” Luke briefly chuckled. “Not bad for your first day back. You’ve got the DA, the mayor, and our trauma surgeon all indebted to you. And you can add me to that list as well. Thank you, Erin. I don’t know if I said that before.”
“You didn’t need to.” Erin stood up and looked out the window again. “I guess I have to ask you for a favor in return, though. Jenna said I’m not supposed to influence you negatively, but it won’t break my heart if you say no.”
“What is it?” Luke asked with amusement in his voice.
“Jenna wants me to learn how to swim.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line and Erin winced, waiting for the inevitable laugh that followed when someone found out she couldn’t swim. It never came.
“You want me to teach you?” There was nothing but kindness in Luke’s voice now.
Erin relaxed. “Jenna said you’d be a good choice. She wants us to do it in the pond. I agreed since I don’t want anyone else witnessing the melodrama I’m bound to put on.”
“I would love to help you learn,” Luke said sincerely. And in a teasing tone, he added, “It’s not every day a guy gets to teach a Harvard grad something. When do you want to start?”
“Tomorrow.”
Luke did laugh then. “Sure. I can be there after lunch. I just have a few things I’ll need to wrap up here at the station in the morning.”
“You’re still there now? It’s almost ten o’clock.”
Luke sighed. “Yeah. Not the ideal way to spend a Friday night, but I wanted to get some paperwork out of the way. Otherwise it’ll be sitting in the back of my mind until it’s done.”
Erin smiled. “Ah, yes, I know how that goes.” A lot of charts had spent time sitting in the back of her mind over the years. “Well, I guess I’d better say goodnight so you can finish up. You’re going to need plenty of rest for tomorrow. But if you do change your mind about the whole swimming thing, I’ll understand.”
“I won’t. I’m looking forward to it, Erin. Have a good night.”
“Goodnight, Luke.” She liked the sound of his name on her lips, and repeated it in a whisper after she ended the call. “Luke…” Then she mentally shook herself. What has gotten into you, Erin?
She set her phone on the windowsill and glanced out at the pond again. Jenna had given her some breathing exercises to practice for tomorrow. Now would probably be a good time to do them, while there was still a window between her and that pond.
She sat down on the chair, keeping her back straight and her feet resting flat on the floor. Don’t think about anything but your breathing, Jenna had said. Clear your mind. Breathe in slowly. Feel the air reach deep inside you, then breathe all the way out. Inhale…and exhale. Let go of the tension in your body as you breathe…Inhale…and exhale…
All of a sudden Erin felt a chill go through her. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck, and it had nothing to do with thoughts of the pond. She felt like someone was watching her. She looked at the doorway, expecting to see Jenna standing there. But she saw only the empty hallway beyond.
The feeling went away after a few seconds, and she smiled wryly. It had been a long day, and now she was delusional. The only breathing exercises she needed to do were in her sleep.
Chapter
6
Her mother had her head buried in the pillow, softly crying.
Erin crawled up onto the bed. “Mommy, are you okay?”
Her mother raised her head, quickly wiping her tears away. She smiled, though she still looked sad, and gently pulled Erin over to her. “Yes, baby. I’m okay.”
Erin snuggled against her, and her mother pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you more than anything,” she said. “Never forget that.”
“I love you too,” Erin answered with a drowsy smile, and fell asleep in her mother’s arms.
Someone brushed a hand lightly over her hair, and she opened her eyes. Shannon Godfrey stood there smiling at her, looking radiant in a way Erin had never seen her look before. “Your mom wants you to know she loves you, Erin. She’s so very sorry she left you like she did.”
“Where is she?” Erin murmured.
“She’s happy,” Shannon said, touching her cheek. “Her soul is free and at peace. But she’s always been with you. Heaven isn’t as far away as you might think…”
Erin opened her eyes, and the heaviness in the air, the bone-chilling coldness of it, dimly registered in her brain. She pulled the bed covers higher and turned her head to the side, still half-asleep. That’s when she saw it—a faint white haze next to the bed that rapidly faded away. For a split second it almost looked human. And after it disappeared the room became warm again, the air lighter.
She tossed back the covers and scrambled out of bed, her eyes wide with terror and her heart pounding in her chest. Grabbing her robe off the chair, she threw it on as she rushed out of the room and all but flew down the carpeted stairs to the kitchen. Water, she told herself in a panic. I just need some water.
She flipped the light on and hurried over to a cupboard that she remembered contained glasses, pulling one out. But it slipped from her shaking hand and fell onto the counter with a crash, shards of glass scattering over the laminate surface.
“Damn it!” she softly cursed.
Easing another glass from the cupboard, she filled it with water and took several long, slow drinks. But just as her quaking nerves started to settle she heard a strange sound in the hallway outside the kitchen. Terror filled her all over again, and with a pent-up breath she hesitantly turned around. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, and her breath escaped in a scream. The glass fell through her fingers—and shattered.
Jenna walked into the kitchen, her cane scraping across the wooden floorboards. But she came to an abrupt halt when Erin screamed and the glass hit the floor. “Good Lord, Erin! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Erin shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I
f I wasn’t sure there was no such thing, I’d say I just did.” She glanced around, and added with a grimace, “I guess I owe you some new glasses.”
“Don’t move or you’ll cut yourself. I’ll go get a broom.”
Erin felt her fear fade away now that Jenna was there, and she silently laughed at herself. She was acting like a fool, all because of a dream. Shaking her head, she carefully turned around and picked up the larger pieces of glass scattered on the counter, throwing them into the trash can under the sink.
“I was planning to get rid of those old glasses anyway—just not at 2:00 a.m. on a Friday night,” Jenna said in amusement when they were done cleaning up. “But now that we’re awake, why don’t I make us some tea?”
“Yes, that sounds perfect.” Erin sat down at the small breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen. “I’d help, but you’d probably be out a few teacups too.”
Jenna chuckled, filling a kettle with water. “I do kind of like my teacups.”
They had another visitor come into the kitchen just then. Wesley, Jenna’s eighteen-year-old orange tabby cat, padded over to Erin, rubbing himself against her leg. “Mrroww,” he said.
Erin hauled the large cat up onto her lap. “Did I wake you up too, Wesley?”
She brushed a hand over his soft, fluffy coat and he started to purr, affectionately licking her arm. She’d been so happy to see he was still doing well after all these years. The Godfreys had gotten him as a kitten the year Shannon died. She remembered he’d refused to leave Shannon’s side toward the end.
While she continued to pet Wesley, her mind wandered back to her dream. She couldn’t recall ever having a dream about her mother before, or one that seemed so real. Other details came back to her. The window had been open, and she’d fallen asleep to the noise from the busy street below. Earlier that night her mother and Seth had gotten into an argument again, and he’d stormed out. When Erin woke up the next morning he still hadn’t returned. And she remembered seeing an empty wine bottle on the nightstand. That had been happening more and more too.
Erin’s hand froze on Wesley’s back. It hadn’t really been just a dream, she realized with shock. It was part of another long-forgotten memory. “I used to call him Seth,” she whispered, more to herself than to Jenna. “Why would I have called him that?”
Jenna eased into the chair next to hers. “Why would you call who what?” she asked.
“I remembered I used to call my father Seth. I’d forgotten that.”
“You’ve hardly said two words about the man since I’ve known you.”
“Like I told Luke, I don’t remember a whole lot. Everything that happened in LA was pretty much a blank—until yesterday.”
“You talked to Luke about that?” Jenna asked in surprise.
Erin explained what had happened in Luke’s car, and then about the dream that wasn’t a dream of her mother. Just as she finished telling her about falling asleep in her mother’s arms the tea kettle whistled. “I’ll get it,” she said, setting Wesley on the floor. “I think your cups are safe now.”
She prepared the tea and brought the cups over to the table, along with a sugar bowl. “You should probably add your own sugar since I’m bound to put in too much.” She slid back into her chair and smiled at the speculative expression on Jenna’s face. “Uh oh. I don’t think that look has anything to do with the tea. I hope we’re not going to have another discussion about vibrators, Dr. Godfrey.”
Jenna laughed softly. “No, you can do with that conversation what you will.” She stirred her tea, and the speculative look returned. “I just wonder who your mom really was, Erin. I have a feeling your grandmother didn’t tell you everything. And I’ll bet a lot of the things she did tell you were skewed by her twisted way of thinking. It’s interesting that your mom left here as soon as she finished high school and never came back, just like you did. I know you think your grandparents severed ties with her because she got pregnant and all that. But maybe it was really the other way around. Maybe your mom didn’t want anything more to do with them because her childhood had been just as miserable as yours was.”
Erin remained silent, wrapping her hands around her cup just as she tried to wrap her head around what Jenna was saying. She’d never thought about her mother in that light before. In fact, for most of her life she’d tried not to think of her at all. When she did, it was with the same resentment she felt for her grandmother. She’d put both of them into the same compartment in her mind—one she liked to keep shut. She’d never once considered that her mother might have experienced what she had, that she might have felt what she’d felt.
“I also find it interesting that she chose to live on the coast,” Jenna added. “The same as you did. It’s just that you went east instead of west.”
Erin stared into her cup, stunned by Jenna’s words. Was it possible she and her mother could be a lot more alike than she’d imagined? The East Coast had been her safe haven, an escape from the painful memories she’d left behind in Wisconsin. And despite her fear of going into the water, she’d always had an inexplicable fascination with the ocean. Maybe it was the freedom and strength she saw in the sea, the sheer vastness of it that made all her problems seem insignificant. Had her mother moved to California for the same reason?
Suddenly she felt something shift in her brain regarding her mother. She had to take her out of the old compartment in her mind and put her into a different one, one that wasn’t well-defined. But she felt the beginning of an entirely unexpected emotion for the woman who’d given birth to her: empathy.
“You never said what happened in your dream after you fell asleep with your mom,” Jenna said. “Or is that when you woke up?”
Erin shook her head. “Before it ended your mom was there instead of mine, standing by the bed. But she spoke about my mom as if she knew her. And then I really woke up.” A chill ran through her at the memory, and she took a sip of her tea. “It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me, that I was still half-asleep…But it was strange, Jen. The room was really cold, and it shouldn’t have been. I turned my head, and for a second I thought I saw…something. Then it disappeared, and the room warmed up again.” She shook her head at how crazy she sounded. “I guess it must have been my imagination.”
“I don’t think you were imagining that at all,” Jenna said with a soft smile. “I think you had a visit from my mom.”
Erin looked at her in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I never told you this before because I didn’t think you’d believe me—in fact, I’m sure you would have insisted I go in for a brain scan if I did. But I’ve felt my mom’s presence here ever since she died. Sometimes I’ll feel like she’s watching me, or I’ll hear footsteps when no one’s there. I swear I’ve even caught glimpses of her a few times. And she definitely likes to move things. At first I thought it was all just my imagination, maybe wishful thinking. Then I asked my dad about it, and he said the exact same things had been happening to him. But he thought it would scare me, so he’d never brought any of it up before. That’s when I knew it really was my mom. And lately her presence has become stronger than ever.”
Erin’s disbelief turned to outright shock. “You think your mom is haunting this house?”
Jenna chuckled. “Haunting seems like such a strong word, but yes. And no, I don’t need a brain scan. I’ve already had one.” Her expression sobered as she gazed down at the teacup in her hands. “The cancer hasn’t spread there. That’s another thing I’m grateful for. I’d like to keep my mind until the end.”
Erin was dumbfounded. She’d heard stories about people seeing spirits, especially before their death. And staff members at Boston General frequently talked about strange things happening there that they attributed to ghosts. She’d never believed any of it was really true, though. She figured there were more logical explanations for such things. But what she
’d seen tonight with her own eyes, what she’d felt, seemed all too real.
“I don’t get it, Jenna. I’ve spent so much time here over the years—I even lived here for a few months. And nothing like that ever happened to me before.”
“Maybe you weren’t ready for it to happen before, sort of like you weren’t ready to deal with some of the memories of your mom. The human mind can be funny that way. Despite our advanced intelligence—or maybe because of it—we have a rather perplexing ability to suppress information from our conscious awareness that we don’t want to deal with. And we’re often blinded by our preconceptions—literally and figuratively. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, ‘People only see what they are prepared to see.’”
“I never imagined it was even possible…”
“Millions of people have had similar experiences, and I find it hard to believe that everyone is imagining the same things,” Jenna said. “And those who argue that ghosts can’t exist because they don’t have a scientific explanation are really discrediting science itself, especially when ninety-five percent of the universe—dark matter and dark energy—can’t be explained either, though no scientist in their right mind would deny they exist. And all the scientific advancements that have occurred throughout history would never have happened if someone hadn’t made the effort to explain a thing that had previously been inexplicable. So I’ve come to the conclusion that ghosts are a very real phenomenon, yet another part of the universe that science simply hasn’t been able to explain on paper yet, just like Heaven itself.” She paused to sip her tea, then added, “Albert Einstein once wrote, ‘Our limited minds cannot grasp the mysterious force that sways the constellations.’ There is so much we don’t know. Sometimes all we can do is believe.”
Erin regarded her friend with new admiration, remembering the quote she had up on the wall in her classroom. “I would never have guessed you were so into Einstein.”
Jenna laughed. “I didn’t like him back when I was in physics class, believe me. But I’ve read some of the things he’s written. He commented many times about how limited his understanding of the universe was. I find it fascinating that one of the most brilliant human beings who ever lived understood that he, too, knew so little. And scientists really haven’t come up with many more concrete answers about the universe since his time—relatively speaking.”