Finding the Way Back (9 page)

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Authors: Jill Bisker

BOOK: Finding the Way Back
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I took the fastest shower I could, sudsing up
and rinsing my hair, then jumped out. Crap! I forgot my towel. I
looked around. My choices were either an old throw rug—Yuck! Just
the thought made my skin crawl—or climb back into my pajamas. The
‘jamas it was. I toweled dry with the bottoms and wrapped the top
around my hair. Double crap! I forgot my clothes also. What was I
thinking? I had been so worried about spiders in the shower that I
didn’t plan very well. Looking at my soggy pajama bottoms I
rewrapped my hair in my bottoms and threw the wet top on. Meaning
to get to my room as quickly as possible, I ran up the stairs and
walked into the kitchen.

Triple crap! Emmett stood in the kitchen, his
back to me, talking to Connie. My heart jumped at the deep timbre
of his voice. What was he doing over here so early? Connie’s eyes
met mine as she saw me slide out of the room and back down the
stairs a few steps, pulling the door shut behind me.

“Connie,” I appealed through the door. “I
didn’t know we had a visitor. Could you get me some clothes or my
robe or something?”

Silence. “Connie?”

“Connie just went upstairs. Can I help?” I
heard Emmett ask, his voice coming closer.

Oh my God, I was going to kill her. She left
me deliberately. “Don’t open the door! I’m not dressed!” I
exclaimed, horrified. “I just need a robe or something. If you
can’t find Connie there might be a towel in the upstairs
bathroom.”

“Okay, hold on.” I could hear him tromping up
the stairs. I tried not to look too closely at the dark, yucky
stairs around me. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, I was chanting to
myself.

The door opened and a hand reached in with a
towel. “Thank you,” I said as I grabbed the towel and quickly
wrapped it around myself. I walked back into the kitchen with as
much dignity as I could manage. I could feel myself blushing at the
ridiculous figure I must seem. “I didn’t realize you were stopping
in this morning.”

Emmett tried to keep his eyes averted, mostly
anyway, although I thought I detected a glance at my bare legs.
“Sorry, yeah, I was driving by and thought I would stop in when it
was daylight and see the layout. You know, plan for tonight.”

“Right.” I jumped as I suddenly heard
pounding on the front door. “Now, who is that?” I asked no one in
particular.

Walking to the front door, I peeked through
the glass. No, no, no! You have got to be kidding me. It was Simon.
Could my day get any worse? He’d already seen me, so I thought I’d
better just open the door. No use causing a scene on my front
doorstep.

“Simon,” I said, opening the door a crack and
wedging myself into the opening, not wanting to let him in.

“Am I interrupting something?” Simon asked,
trying to look past me. I glanced behind me to see Emmett standing
there, plainly visible through the open door. Now here I was in a
wet pajama top, towel wrapped around me, my pajama bottoms wrapped
around my head, with Emmett standing right behind me. At first I
started to formulate an explanation, then I realized he didn’t
deserve an explanation and I didn’t owe him one.

“Yes, you are interrupting. Go away,” I
snapped tersely, backing away to shut the door. How dare he show up
here without even a phone call.

Grabbing the door before I could close it, he
pushed it back open. “What do you think you’re doing closing the
door on me?”

Emmett was at my side in an instant. “She
said go away. I think you’d better just leave.”

“I need to talk to my wife,” Simon retorted
belligerently. “What the hell are you wearing anyway?”

I put my hand on Emmett’s forearm and held
him back. “It’s all right. I can handle this.” Then turning back to
Simon I said angrily, “Ex! Ex-wife.”

“Not yet, we haven’t signed the papers,” he
answered smugly.

Connie strode into the room. “What is going
on here? Simon? What are you doing here? Did somebody invite
you?”

“It’s okay, Connie. I got this,” I told her.
I saw her exchange glances with Emmett who nodded tentatively.
“Simon, if you want to talk to me, you can sit on the couch and
wait for me. I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

I turned and ran up the stairs angry and
exasperated, but also quite pleased with myself. “You’re not the
boss of me,” I added under my breath. He wasn’t going to tell me
what to do. Slamming the door to my bedroom behind me, I picked up
my suitcase and laid it open on the bed. I started digging through
it to find something to wear then finally dumped the whole pile out
in front of me. I finally found a jean skirt and a purple blouse
that were respectable. Plus, they matched my fingernails. Throwing
my clothes on, I went into the bathroom to comb out my hair, put on
some blush, eye liner and mascara. Simon could just cool his heels
and wait for me for a change. I no longer had to jump to his tune.
Looking in the mirror I smiled again, finding my sense of humor in
the situation. I was going to blow dry my hair as well, and take my
own damned sweet time doing it. I knew he’d be down in the living
room irritated as heck to be made to wait. My hair color had turned
out great, the lighter highlights brought out the dark blue of my
eyes. The pink was a nice sassy rebellion. I was getting my cute
back. I could get used to this new independent me.

After waiting several minutes longer than
necessary, I finally decided to go back down into the fray. I’d put
on my
mithril
bra and tough-girl panties and knew I could
take them all on. I could hear them all down in the living room
talking uncomfortably. Connie sounded like she was trying to draw
out conversation but neither Emmett nor Simon were interested.

I swept in, doing my Lady of the Manor
impersonation. “So Connie,” waving my hands and arms with a
flourish. “I will leave you to showing Emmett around, and Simon,
you and I can discuss whatever it is you came here for.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I should stick around
for a while,” Emmett said to me.

Simon bristled visibly like a porcupine
raising its quills. “This doesn’t involve you, whoever you are.
It’s a private conversation with my wife.”

“Ex. Ex-wife,” I reminded him again, not
wanting Emmett to be confused as to my marital status. “I’m fine,
Emmett, thanks. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Emmett glanced back into the room one last
time as Connie led him upstairs, looking at me, then Simon, then me
again.

“Who the hell is he anyway? A plumber?
Contractor?” Simon inquired.

“None of your business,” I answered
haughtily. “Now, what do you want?” I suddenly realized I didn’t
really care. I didn’t want anything to do with Simon. I wanted him
to get out and move on.

Simon suddenly got his concerned face on. I
stiffened, wondering what lie was going to come out of his mouth
now. “The paperwork is done at the lawyers. They called yesterday
morning saying they didn’t have your new phone number and that you
never gave them your cell. I’ve been trying to call your cell but
you don’t answer. I came over to make sure you were all right and
to let you know.”

“To make sure I’m all right? Give me a break,
Simon. When did you ever care if I was all right?” I got to my
feet. “Well, that’s great. I’ll call and make an appointment to
sign. As you can see, I’m fine. I have another appointment in about
ten minutes so I’ll see you out.” I tried to be as business-like as
possible. Simon got up off the sofa and followed me to the
door.

“Laney, I didn’t come here to fight. And
you’re right. I can see you’re okay. You look great. Did you do
something with your hair?”

I turned trying to unravel why he was really
here, and where he was headed. “Besides the pink, that is,” he
continued. “I’m not sure that really goes with your complexion.”
And there he was, his old self.

I gave him a look that was a combination of a
glare and a smile. “Thanks.” I pulled open the door and stood to
the side.

Simon took one more look around the room, “So
did your mom give you this old place?”

Of course. Money. He thought I was going to
come into something, and he wanted a share. “No, Simon, she’s just
giving me a place to live for a short while since you ran out on me
with that tramp. Now get out. There’s nothing here for you.”
Shockingly, he actually left.

My heart raced with adrenaline. How dare he?
It was probably a good thing that he kept pissing me off because it
gave me strength to stand up to him. I felt another smidgeon of
satisfaction as I slammed the door behind him.

 

 

Chapter
Ten

 

I was just walking back into the kitchen when
I heard another knock on the front door.
Now what?
I turned
and was about to shout something, thinking it was Simon coming
back, when Mom and Shelly let themselves in. I heard them arguing
about something. “No, Shelly, Rock Hudson was the one who was gay,
and Doris Day was never in a movie with Burt Reynolds.”

I rolled my eyes and promised myself I wasn’t
going to get dragged into this conversation.

“Hello, Darling,” my mom said, coming over to
give me a kiss. “We saw Simon on our way in, you haven’t taken him
back, have you? What did you do to your hair? Pink?”

“No, Mom, I haven’t taken him back. I colored
my hair and Simon hates the pink, too.”

“In that case I love it,” she said without
missing a beat. “It’s striking.”

My aunt came over to give me a hug. You
wouldn’t have thought it had been only three days since I’d seen
her last. I heard Connie and Emmett coming down the stairs.

“Mom,” Connie said coming over to give Shelly
a hug.

“You look rested after your trip,” she said
to Connie, holding her hands. Both little ladies turned to look at
Emmett, waiting for one of us to introduce him. I could see the
conclusions they were jumping to immediately. It was almost as if
they could see future grandchildren floating in the air between us.
I decided to leave the job to Connie. After all, she was the one
who had brought him into this mess.

“Mom, Aunt Tess, this is Emmett Linden,”
Connie said.

“And what do you do for a living?” my mother
started with. I rolled my eyes again. I could see I was going to
have a migraine soon.

“Mom, Aunt Shelly, please sit down. We need
to discuss something with you,” I began. As they sat on the sofa, I
directed Emmett to the recliner. “Connie, let’s go get a couple of
chairs from the kitchen.”

Connie and I headed to the kitchen,
whispering at each other. “You tell them,” and “No, you should.”
“You’re the one who invited him, you should tell them,” I declared.
Connie countered, “You’re the one who wanted to be in charge, you
do it.”

“Fine!” I said, giving in. “I’ll tell them.”
We dragged our chairs back to the living room and sat down. I would
have rather faced a firing squad.

“So, Emmett is a friend of
Connie’s
,”
I emphasized. I could see all eyes go to my cousin. This was
actually more fun than I anticipated. “He’s here because there have
been some—how can I put it?—troubling occurrences, shall I say?”
Mom and Shelly started to look a little troubled themselves so I
continued quickly. “Some strange things have been happening, and
it’s just that, well, the house might be a tiny bit—,” I had to say
it. “Haunted,” I finished with a dramatic sigh.

Both women looked at each other, not
surprised at all. My mom nodded and said matter-of-factly, “Yes, we
know that. It’s always been haunted.”

It couldn’t have been clearer if my mother
had looked at me and said, “Well, duh.” Connie, Emmett and I all
gasped. “What do you mean? You know?” I asked. “And you didn’t tell
us?”

“We’ve always told you girls’ stories about
this house from when we were children,” my mom said, leaning back
in her chair. “I was worried this talk was about something
serious.”

I turned to Connie. “I don’t remember ghost
stories. Do you remember ghost stories?”

“It’s never been a secret,” Aunt Shelly
continued, laughing. “You two just never listened to our stories.
We didn’t want to remind you of the stories now because we didn’t
want to frighten you before you even moved in. What has you all so
worked up? Some knocking, maybe some footsteps or something?”

It only took a few minutes to relate the
incidents that had happened so far. I felt chagrined that I hadn’t
been reminded, after all I might not have gotten so scared if I had
been prepared.

“So,” my mom began, looking at Emmett. “What
does this have to do with you?”

“Um, yes.” He stuttered a little. “Well, I’m
a ghost hunter, I guess you could say,” he rejoined. “Kind of like
the ones you see on TV, but not really.”

“Can you make a living at that?” my mother
asked, fishing for more information. I winced. Next she would be
asking for his social security number. I wasn’t sure she didn’t
have a contact on the police force that could run a background
check.

“No,” he said and laughed. “It’s more of a
hobby than anything else. I work with computers for my day
job.”

“Really?” Mom and Aunt Shelly looked at one
another, and I could almost see the wheels of some new scheme
turning. “You know, I’ve been having some trouble with my computer.
Perhaps I could get you to stop by sometime to take a look at it,”
my mother said. Oh dear, she was quick. She went on before I could
think of a way to stop her. “So do you live here in West Acre? I
don’t think I know any other Lindens.”

This was starting to go off track, and I knew
we could be here all day learning Emmett’s life history if I
allowed it. “Mom, maybe we could have him leave us a résumé. For
now, we are really only interested in whether he can help us with
the ghost.” I gave her the look. She tried to look injured but gave
up the present attack, at least for the time being. I knew she
would renew her efforts later to win the war.

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