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Authors: Nicole Dennis

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BOOK: The First Ghost
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“No! No! My baby,” she wailed and collapsed in a crumpled heap.

“I’m okay, Mother.”

“Imogene? Portia’s okay, honey.” My stepfather, Walter, helped Mother struggle to her feet. “See? It’s just a bump on the head.”

“Hiya, Imogene. Sorry to scare you like that,” Hephzibah said with a grin. “I’m not here for your girl. We was just having a nice chat. Oops, gotta go. It’s been real.” And just like that she walked through the curtain and out of sight.

Mother gave me a shrewd look and ordered Walter down to the gift shop to buy more flowers, drowning out his protests. “Because, darling, Portia needs flowers to brighten up the room. Don’t you, Portia? See? Off you go.”

Mother is so fanatical about keeping the family’s psychic gifts private that she’s never revealed it to Walter, not in twenty-three years of marriage. Even my brother doesn’t know about the women in the family. It’s
that
kind of secret.

One of the nurses trying in vain to save my neighbor attempted to steer Mother out of the room, but she was seeing her daughter and no one was stopping her. The frantic beeping turned into a long wail and finally silence.

“Time of death, ten fifteen,” someone said. I could hear the snaps of gloves being pulled off and the shuffle of paper boots. I wanted to console them and tell them it was inevitable, that it was her time, but I couldn’t find the words. Besides, I had my mother to deal with.

Mother held up an overnight case. “I brought you pajamas and a change of clothes, your toiletries and…”

“I doubt I’ll be here much longer.” Oh, how I hoped that was true. This was happening too quickly. I had just had a conversation with Death.

“But I want you to have your things. I can cancel my appointments tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, Mother. You don’t need to stay. Honest.”

She put her hand on her hip and studied me a moment. “So how long has this been going on?”

“You mean Hephzibah? About fifteen, maybe twenty minutes? Since I woke up here.” That was it! Maybe it was just the
here
. Maybe it was just the hospital. Maybe all I had to do was stay out of hospitals. I could do that.

“Then you
were
talking to her. Oh, honey, I’m so proud. It finally came.”

“Ease up, Mother. I’m not a little girl getting her first period. I don’t know that I’ve actually gotten
anything
. I saw Hephzibah. I haven’t seen any dead people or anything else spooky or weird. Please don’t make a big deal of it.” At the moment I said it, I meant it, but then I remembered the little man on the tracks. I closed my eyes. “Oh, crap,” I whispered, fighting my rising panic.

“Don’t make a big deal? Portia, this is big news. I have to call your Aunt Bella and cousin Eleanor and--”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? It’s a big deal in this family when someone’s gift arrives. I had honestly given up on you, but--”

“I’m not sure it’s forever. I’ve probably got a concussion. I’m hoping Hephzibah disappears with the rest of…the symptoms.”

“Do you think so?” Her eyes were worried. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I don’t feel quite right. I think for now you shouldn’t tell anyone. Until we know it’s permanent and all.”

She wrung her hands. “If you think so, dear.”

“I do. Oh, look. Here’s Walter.”

He stood smiling in the doorway, holding a huge pink bouquet with a vase shaped like a pink cloud that read “
It’s a Girl
.”

“Do you like them?” he asked. “It’s the best I could do.”

* * * *

Waking up in a hospital room is disorienting enough on its own, but try doing it with a sad-faced stranger staring at you from close range.

She looked like someone who had lost her puppy. “Can you see me? You look like you can see me,” she said. She had long, honey-blond hair and a chubby but pretty face.

I knew where this was going. “I can see you.” I sighed. “Are you a ghost?”

“I’m Corinne,” she said as though this explained why she was sad and sitting on my hospital bed. Yes, she had to be a ghost.

“What can I do for you, Corinne?”

“I think I died here today,” she said uncertainly.

“Oh.” That explained a lot. My dead roommate. “Shouldn’t you be gone? I’m mean didn’t she...you know...take you wherever...you go?” I finished lamely, not sure how to frame the question. I’m not in the habit of talking to dead people. “Didn’t Death come by to pick you up?”

“She wouldn’t go.” I jumped at Hephzibah’s voice so near my elbow.

“Don’t do that.”

“Sorry, doll.”

“I have questions,” Corinne said. “I’m not ready to die yet.”

“I hear that all the time. No one is ever ready. Trust me,” Hephzibah said soothingly. “Come with me and everything will be clear as day.”

“I want my answers first. Where am I going? Did someone tell my Aunt Susie? Who did this to me? Why? What’s going to happen to Billy?”

“Slow down. Slow down. I told you. Just come with me and we’ll get you some answers. As for the worldly things, it’s best to forget them. They don’t matter to you anymore.”

Corinne crossed her arms. “I’m staying here.”

Hephzibah gave me a look. “A little help here?”

“Me? Don’t look at me,” I said. “I am not my mother. I don’t meddle in the affairs of the dead. Unh-unh. No way, Jose. Not gonna happen.” I desperately wished to be anywhere else. Anywhere. Even the dentist’s office.

I’m not a curmudgeon, I swear. But I’ve seen what the dead can do to the living, how much they can demand. It’s a slippery slope, and I had no intention of setting a single foot on it. I liked my life and really, why should I spend it fixing things for people who are gone? Life is for the living. Dead people should cross over to whatever comes next and leave the living in peace.

“At least promise the girl you’ll call Aunt Susie in Omaha.”

Corinne’s face brightened. “Would you? That would help a lot.”

“Of course she will. Won’t you, Portia? Her name is Portia,” Hephzibah whispered to Corinne. “She sees dead people.”

“But only for a little while. I’ll be myself soon. Then all this talking-to-the-dead stuff is over. I’ll call the aunt. But that’s it.” The way I figured it, calling the girl’s aunt was helping the living. I could do that. It seemed reasonable.

“What about Billy? Who’ll take care of my Billy?” Corinne’s voice rose. Hephzibah shot me another
help me
look.

“Who’s Billy?” I prayed she didn’t have a child she wanted me to adopt and raise. It would be hard to turn down a dead mother.

“Billy is my dog. My roommate hates him.” She sniffled. Her blue eyes were sad, but dry. “Please take care of my Billy.”

“A dog? No way. I’ll call your aunt, even though I’m sure the people at the hospital have already done it, but if it makes you feel better, then fine. A phone call? Yes. A dog? No.”

“It’s a little dog,” Hephzibah said. “I’ve seen it. A little bitty dog. Man’s best friend.”

“No. I’ll get evicted. I can’t have pets in my building.” Honestly, what would I do with a dog?

“At least find the doggy a good home.”

I glared at Hephzibah. “This is your gig. Not mine. Why are you dragging me into this?”

“I’m afraid Corinne is sort of fixated on you.” Hephzibah shrugged. “It happens.”

“I’m haunting you,” Corinne said cheerfully.

“Sometimes they’re a little reluctant to let go of this life. You can help them along their way. It’s your destiny, Portia.”

“You’re a Mahaffey,” Corinne said. “Death told me.”

“Hephzibah, doll. Call me Hephzibah. Yeah, I told her a little. I figure it’ll smooth things along.”

“I promised the phone call, but that is it. I don’t do dogs. Sorry.” I hardened my heart. See, that’s what happens. You promise one thing and suddenly they need more. It’s never enough with the dead. And if I helped one ghost, more were sure to follow with their requests.

Corinne started weeping dry tears again. “You’re not at all like Death said you would be. You’re mean. I am so out of here.”

“Good girl,” Hephzibah said. “Let’s go.”

“Stay away from me.” Corinne pointed an accusatory finger at her. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I’m good and ready.”

And then she vanished. I blinked a time or two to make sure.

“Well, that’s good,” I said. “She’s gone.”

“She’ll be back,” Hephzibah said. “I told you. She’s fixated on you. This is really important. She needs to come with me and separate herself from this world. She can’t stay here. Do you want to have conversations with her ten years from now? That’s what could happen if... Just help her out. Call the aunt. Find a home for the doggy.”

I closed my eyes. “Fine. I’ll try.” If it would make it stop. “Only this one time. Don’t send any more ghosts my way.”

She patted my arm. “I knew you would help. You’re a good girl, Portia. You’re a Mahaffey.”

Chapter 2

I kept my eyes closed and mentally whined. Why did I have to be born a Mahaffey? Why a bump on the head today of all days? Why did my first encounter with a ghost have to be with an overwrought dog lover? Why? I was hoping to slip off into sleep, but I heard soft sounds in my room.

When I opened my eyes to see a gorgeous man with dark hair, blue eyes and a killer smile standing at the foot of my bed, I had two thoughts. The first was:
I hope this isn’t a dream.
The second, which unfortunately I said aloud, was: “Please tell me you aren’t another ghost.”

He smiled as if I had said something witty. “Sorry I disturbed you.” He had a lovely voice, warm and baritone.

I smiled back at him. If he was a ghost, he was a nice change from Corinne. I wouldn’t mind being haunted by those eyes.

“I’m Portia.” It’s hard to flirt when you’re lying in a hospital bed.

“I know.” He tapped the chart he was holding and something clicked in my addled brain. Oh. White coat. Reading chart. “Are you my doctor?”

“I was the attending physician when they brought you into the ER. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Drat. “I guess I’m going to be fine.”

“I can see that.” He smiled again and my heart did a little flip that had nothing to do with my health. His smile lit the sterile room. “Do you mind?” He moved closer with his penlight and peered into my eyes. “Don’t blink.”

I tried to not blink and to look beautiful at the same time. It isn’t possible. I blinked like a nervous owl until he finally had to hold my eyelid open with a gentle finger. He had wonderful hands.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“Not at all. You’re the perfect patient.” He sat on the edge of my bed.

Oh, be still my heart. There was that smile again. “Do you visit all your patients?”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

Holy crap. He
was
flirting. I did a little giddy dance inside, but for some reason I was tongue-tied. I searched frantically for something witty to say, but what popped out instead was, “Were you her doctor, too?”

He pulled back slightly with a puzzled look. “Her?”

“Her. That girl.” I motioned toward Corinne’s now empty bed. “The one who died.”

“Oh, that girl. Yes, I was the attending when she was brought in, too. Very sad. She was so young.”

“She didn’t have any family or anyone except her aunt.”

He sat up straighter. “Did you know her?”

“No, I...um...” I’m a dreadful liar. My mind searched for something plausible. “I overheard somebody talking.”

“The nurses?” He frowned. “Hospital personnel shouldn’t be gossiping like that.”

I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble. “I don’t think it was a nurse. I...I’m not sure who it was.” I put a hand dramatically to my forehead and felt the bandage there. “I’m not quite myself today. Maybe I misunderstood. I hoped that her aunt knew. That’s all.”

“It’s sweet to be so concerned about a stranger.” The warm smile was back. He was either the most compassionate doctor I’d ever met or he was totally digging me. Somehow I wasn’t sure whether to be creeped out or flattered.

“I sort of feel responsible for her.” As I said it, I realized it was true and I knew I was going to help Corinne. Just this one time. Just this one ghost. “No one should die all alone. Did they get in touch with her aunt?”

“I don’t know. I just did the ER intake. I can check.”

“Would you? It would really set my mind at ease. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here.”

“I imagine they’ll let you go home tomorrow afternoon. We only admitted you because you were unconscious for so long. That’s not normal given the severity of your injury.”

“I thought it was just a bump.”

“It was. I meant the injury
wasn’t
that severe. You shouldn’t have been out of it for so long. But your eyes rolled up and you were muttering about a man on the train tracks and...well...it was a little spooky,” he admitted, not looking at all stalker-ish. “When I heard you were okay, I wanted to see for myself.”

“I know I fell, but I don’t remember much after that.”

“That part is normal for a head injury. At least you didn’t damage anything permanently. You should probably stay at home for a couple of days to heal up. You...uh...do live around here, right?”

He was so cute and transparent. “I’m local,” I said with a smile. “I wish I could stay at home, but my boss is a real Cruella de Vil. It’s back to work for me. She would fire me for any old reason.”

“Even with a doctor’s note?”

I considered the offer. “Not then, but she’d make my life hell. It’s better that I go in. How early will they let me out of here?”

“Not too early. You have to be cleared by the specialist first and you definitely aren’t going to work tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. If you wanted to give me your number, I could call you.” He made a note on the clipboard. “About the aunt,” he added.

My smile grew. “You can call me for any old reason.” I gave him my number.

* * * *

Dr. Wonderful was absolutely right about the timeliness of my release. I spent the better part of the next day being poked and prodded and annoyed by a rainbow of lab techs and nurses and doctors wearing colorful scrubs.

By two o’clock that afternoon I was pissed off and ready to check out of the hospital. I sat in my wheelchair like an invalid in the U-shaped drive-through waiting to be picked up like luggage, watching cars cycle through and wondering where the heck my brother was. Harry is rarely on time, but you’d think he could manage to pick up his only sister from the hospital after he had promised me faithfully that he would. I wrapped the hospital blanket tighter around me. Much more of this and I would have to go back inside. My toes already felt numb even though I’d put my boots and wooly socks back on.

BOOK: The First Ghost
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ads

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