The Sorceress (22 page)

“Actually, Ethan's not having a hot meal this morning. He's having a few cereal bars in his room.”

Carmen rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Thanks for getting around to telling me. I could have saved myself this trouble. It's a crime, the way food gets wasted around here. With all the poor starving children—”

“Pile it on a plate. I'll eat it,” Lizzy placated to shut Carmen up. Carmen had a thing about wasting food and would go on and on endlessly.

Jen got the cereal bars out of the cabinet and took them up to Ethan. She didn't say a word and didn't look at the computer screen. She set the bars on the desk and whisked out of his bedroom.

Back in her bedroom, she texted Rome:
What time is our early dinner?

Seconds later, he responded.
Six-thirty.

Okay. Pick me up outside the gate.

He responded with a smiley face, which of course made Jen smile. She didn't have a plan, but was determined to enjoy Rome's company for the second night in a row. If she weren't encumbered with Ethan, she'd be able to run wild with her new man.

Wow, did she just call Rome, her man? Yeah, she did. That's how he made her feel. Like they were an official couple, involved in a committed relationship. She appreciated that he wasn't playing any head games. The idea of seeing him tonight was so
exciting, she called the senator's cell without even bothering to rehearse what she'd say.

“Hi, Senator Provost. It's Jen. Sorry to disturb you. Listen, I know you were planning on interviewing nannies—”

“Gee! I'm so sorry. It completely slipped my mind.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could pitch in tonight. I really need to get out for a few hours.”

“Uh, sure, it's the least I can do. I guess.” Senator Provost didn't sound very enthusiastic with the idea of being saddled with his son for a few hours.

“I'm leaving at six-thirty and I'll be back by nine. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that's fine. You deserve a break. Ask Lizzy or Carmen to stay over until I get in tonight. I'll pay double time.”

Yes! Another hot date!
Jen wanted to leap up and pump her fist in the air, but she maintained a calm demeanor and professional tone. “Thank you, Senator Provost.” Now she had to go downstairs and deliver the dreadful news to Lizzy and Carmen that one of them would have to look after Ethan until the senator came home.

Senator Provost had no idea that neither woman would be excited about the extra pay. If it weren't for the fact that they couldn't afford to up and quit, both women would flat out refuse to babysit Ethan; despite the generous overtime the senator was offering.

I
t was Jen's first time at The Continental Restaurant and Martini Bar, one of the popular hot spots in the trendy Old City section of Philadelphia. The interior was chic and eye-catching. Jen couldn't take her eyes off of the hanging olive-shaped halogen lamps pierced with huge toothpicks.

“Those olive-shaped lights. Cool idea,” Jen remarked, as her eyes flitted around, delightedly taking in the neo-diner atmosphere.

“If you think this is interesting, you should see the upstairs. Hanging basket chairs and pony chairs situated around the bar. And you're expected to saddle up.” He winked.

“Sounds fun, but I'll pass on the pony chairs. Wouldn't want to fall off my horse, if I drink too much.”

Jen and Rome chose to sit inside one of the retro-décor booths. Their waitress handed them rainbow-decorated menus.

“Even the menu is gorgeous. It looks like a work of art,” Jen whispered. “If I had my own place, I'd frame this menu and proudly display it in my kitchen.”

“Do you want me to ask if you can have a menu?”

“No! I'd be mortified. Just because I'm from the sticks doesn't mean I have to advertise it by asking for a menu like a googly-eyed tourist.”

“I'm just saying…if you want a menu, I'll get you one.”

“And do what with it? I don't have a kitchen,” she said, laughing. “Everything here is so high-end, yet it's not pretentious or stuffy. I love it. Thank you for bringing me here, Rome.”

“My pleasure, Pretty Red. Hey, that's what I'm going to start calling you…Pretty Red.”

Jen blushed; she couldn't help it.

“They have fifteen different kinds of martinis. After all that irrational reasoning I came up with last night…talking about terrorist plots and all those conspiracy theories, I figured we'd leave the hard liquor alone and have some frilly, fun drinks tonight.”

“I thought you were serious.”

“Hell, no! That was the liquor talking.”

Jen's eyes widened in grave concern. “Oh, shit. So, we're back to square one? That naked woman is a real ghost?”

“More than likely. But I told you the dead can't hurt anyone. She's probably lost and confused. If I see her running on Piper's Bridge again, I'm going to park the squad car, get out, and have a talk with her…see if I can help her get to where she's trying to go.”

“I thought you said the spirits never talk to you.”

“Not with words. It's more like a mental thing. I get a feeling of what's going on with them. Sometimes they keep going and sometimes they look scared and lost. When they look scared, I tell them to find the light.”

“How'd you learn how to deal with them?”

“My grandma. She read up on life after death and she told me they're all trying to get to the light.”

“Is the light God? Are they trying to find their way to heaven?”

“I hope that's where they're headed. I don't know all the answers, but they usually look relieved when I mention the light and they go on their way.”

“But you said they look scared. Our ghost lady does not look scared. She looks furious.”

Rome laughed. “Yeah, she's pretty fired up about something. She's probably mad because she's lost…that's why she does that confused running thing. A few steps forward, then whips around and starts heading in the other direction.”

“I honestly can't handle seeing her again. So if you bump into her while you're out patrolling the area, please make sure you give her good directions. That lady is in desperate need of some white light.”

“I think she's gone already. She's the first spirit I've seen more than once.”

“But I saw her twice, also,” Jen reminded, looking worried. “I saw her on the bridge and before that, I saw her on Ethan's computer. You've got to admit, there's something weird about all this.”

“Hey, it's not the dead we have to worry about. They can't hurt us,” Rome reassured. “She's gone back to wherever she came from or she finally found her way to wherever she was going.”

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it.”

After their meal, Jen and Rome sipped their second round of fruity martinis and listened to the soft music in the background. Jen stole a glance at her watch. Her face completely stoic, no one could tell that she was horrified that so much time had flown by.

She was already fifteen minutes past her expected return time. She hated to have to end such a wonderful evening, but her nanny duties beckoned and she was going to have to call it a night real soon.

“So, you grew up around cornfields…what was that like?” Rome
asked, seeming to have forgotten that she had to be back on her nanny job by nine.

“Boring. And like I said, the nearest neighbors were the Amish kids and they weren't allowed to play with me. They kept to themselves and worked all day.”

“Sounds rough.”

“I wouldn't call it rough, but I had a lonely childhood. Just my folks and me. Oh, and Pogo, the family dog. Pogo wasn't much fun, though. He was old and cranky, ever since I can remember. Blind in one eye, crippled, and could barely run.”

Rome started laughing. “Aw, damn. Excuse me, but the way you're saying it is really funny.”

“I'm serious. Pogo would growl and even bite me whenever I tried to play with him.”

Rome leaned over and gave her doubting look. “Your own dog bit you and your parents didn't have it put to sleep?”

“No. They loved Pogo and blamed me for being too rough. He belonged to my dad. He had Pogo for years before he had me.”

“That's fucked up, that they let that dog bite you. I woulda shot that mutt if he bit my baby girl.” Rome scowled, his voice filled with fury.

“Do you have a daughter?”

“No, but I'm just saying. If I did, I'd shoot a muthafuckin dog for sinking its teeth into a child of mine.”

Jen started laughing. “You're taking it the wrong way and getting all worked up and mad. I wasn't abused by Pogo. I was raised to be gentle with him because he was sickly and cranky. He never bit me hard enough to break my skin and he certainly never attacked me like a pit bull gone wild. He mainly snarled and snapped.”

“Oh. All right. So, what about school? Didn't you have friends at school?”

“I had a few white friends but they didn't live nearby. Our community is rural…people live miles and miles apart. There weren't too many black kids in our neck of the woods and certainly none with fire-red hair.” She touched her hair, which she'd painstakingly blow-dried for her hot date. “I got teased a lot.”

“Why?”

“For being different.”

“I love your hair.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her bone straight hair and frowned. “I even like it slicked down the way you're wearing it tonight.”

“I went through a lot of trouble working on my hair. Just for you!”

“Don't do me any more favors. I like it natural—wild and untamed.”

Jen scrunched up her nose. “Are you serious? You like my hair when it's looking like barbed wire.”

“Barbed wire?”

“That's how my mother always referred to it.”

“I think your hair is beautiful.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she agreed, squirming at the compliment. “But it's too much work to keep it looking this way.”

“It's beautiful either natural or straight, all right? But I like it when it's all fuzzy and windblown like it was yesterday.”

Jen looked down; her cheeks flushing.

“Your red hair is beautiful and unique and so are you.”

She couldn't keep her head down forever, but his compliments were putting such a gigantic smile on her face and she was too ashamed to look up. “Thank you,” she muttered.

“Look at you, all blushing. That's cute. There's nothing fake about you, Jen. I dig you. Now, will you please look up?”

“Okay, but you have to promise me…no more compliments. I'm not used to getting too much praise for my looks. That's enough for one night,” she said, laughing.

“No, you can't stop me from speaking my mind. You're beautiful and you need to know it. Mothers can seriously mess up a kid's self-esteem.”

“My mom didn't mean any harm,” Jen said, finally looking up as she came to her mother's defense. “I have a ton of hair and it gets impossibly tangled and it's a lot to handle when it gets wet.”

Rome looked at her. “No offense to your mom, but she has you thinking you need to waste valuable time straightening out that crazy curly hair that I happen to enjoy the challenge of running my fingers through.”

Smiling, Jen shook her mane of temporarily soft tresses. “Sorry.” She laughed.

“Seriously, though. Your hair looks good in whichever style you wear it.” He gave her a big, approving smile.

“Thank you. Now, tell me about
your
childhood. Which part of Philly did you grow up?”

His sunny expression darkened. “I spent a lot of time at my grandma's house.”

“How come?”

“My grandma is really the only mother figure I ever had in my life.”

“What happened to your real mom?” Jen asked, recalling that he'd mentioned his mother the night before, but hadn't gone into any details.

Rome shifted in his chair. His facial muscles tensed and Jen braced herself to hear about a tragic death—from cancer—or a brutal and unsolved murder. Maybe that's why he'd selected law enforcement as a career, Jen thought…to avenge his mother's death.

Rome smiled sadly. “I have two mothers, but neither one of them really wanted me.”

Jen had to use great restraint to keep her jaw from dropping open. “What do you mean?”

His mouth tightened into that sad smile again. Jen wanted to reach across the table and smother him with her inexperienced version of a motherly hug. “Well, there's my father's wife, Sylvia. Her name is on my birth certificate. And then there's my birth mother, Twyla, who paid a large sum of money to get her name expunged from all records associated with me.”

With this shocking newsflash, Jen lost control. Her jaw dropped wide open and remained in that unhinged state. With her eyes wide and mouth agape, she held her breath and became very still as she waited for Rome to offer an explanation that would bring clarity to his sorrowful and bizarre beginnings.