Me and My Ghoulfriends (2 page)

“I don’t understand why I can’t see her here.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

How was I going to put it to him delicately? “Sir, you’re dead.” Okay, so that wasn’t very delicate. I never said I was perfect at my job. “You died many years ago. You can’t stay here any longer. You have to leave.”

“I’m dead?”

I nodded. “Yes, dead.” As in no longer available. A goner.

He shook his head
no
, and I continued to nod
yes
for several seconds as we silently argued the fact. It was getting me nowhere.

Finally, I said, “If you picture the light in your mind, it will appear. Can you do that for me? Remember you’ll see your wife and children again, I promise.”

I watched him anxiously, waiting to see what he would do next. Would he disappear through the wall without listening to me? Could I get that lucky? I had promised the homeowners I’d do everything I could do to get rid of the haunting.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a big magic gun like Dan Aykroyd in
Ghostbusters
so I could suck up a spirit. Instead, I had to rely on my personality to talk a ghost over. Kind of like you’d talk someone suicidal down off of a ledge. It was inevitable some ghosts just wouldn’t like me and wouldn’t listen to a thing I said. There was nothing I could do about that, although I’d quickly gotten a name for being able to talk to ghosts easily, so I prayed this time would uphold my reputation.

I watched the soldier closely. His expression changed slightly and I held my breath, waiting for him to summon the light. After a minute passed, I once again encouraged him to go into the light.

“Walk toward the light. Go to your family,” I pressed. I wanted to grab him and shove him into it, but I knew that wouldn’t work. Waiting for ghosts to move on always had made me a nervous wreck. I could feel my palms turning clammy with each passing second. It was all I could do not to bite my nails off with the worry.

He turned, his back facing me, and walked toward the window. I held my breath. Within seconds he went from full apparition to misty form and then, poof, he was gone. I let out a sigh of relief; he’d moved on surprisingly easily. I could count on one hand how many times it had been that easy to help someone cross over to the light. It usually took several tries.

The homeowners would be happy with the news.

People often ask me what got me started in this line of work and, besides the fact dead people wouldn’t leave me alone (that was the big reason), there was always a fascination with the unknown for me. I’d always been interested in the paranormal even without the daily visits from the dearly departed.

Late at night when I was young, I would lie awake, staring at the glow of my nightlight and ask myself questions like
, Could I really be turned into a werewolf?
I didn’t know which was more likely: aliens or Bigfoot. As terrified as I might have been, I never avoided scary movies, although Dracula frightened the heebie-jeebies out of me. And do not get me started on zombies—I wouldn’t even discuss them. I often searched the sky for UFOs; I have never seen one, although that was probably a good thing.

It was getting late and I was exhausted, but I could have sworn there were two spirits in the home. There was no sign of another spirit hanging around now, so I must have been wrong. Like I said, I’m not perfect at my job.

Warning the homeowners to keep their eyes out for anything else strange that may happen was at the top of my ‘to do’ list. Spinning around, my shoes clicking loudly on the old floor, I walked to the door. I tilted my head for one final glance back to where the spirit had been; it sure felt good to help someone. My job here was done.

*

It had been late when I’d finally arrived home at my little farmhouse on the outskirts of town. I woke up with the typical hangover feeling I always got after confronting a ghost. The standard headache with dry cottonmouth, but never the fun party memories from a night of drinking that you get from a real hangover. My cellphone rang loudly, increasing the throbbing in my head as I jumped out of the shower. Glancing at the clock, I saw it read seven a.m. as I stumbled over my rug trying to grab the phone before it stopped ringing.

I snatched it up, out of breath, and gasped, “Hello?” even though I knew there was only one person who’d be calling me this early in the morning: my best friend, Mindy. Actually, she was the only one allowed to call this early. I had banned my mother from calling at that time of the morning a long time ago, although she really didn’t listen very well because she still did it on occasion. It was far too difficult to deal with her badgering me before a heavy dose of caffeine.

“You know what today is?” The words sang out from the receiver.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Thursday?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You know what I’m talking about.”

I chuckled.

“You have to get coffee from the new shop. When someone that gorgeous is that close, you have to check that out.”

“Check what out, the coffee?”

She laughed. “That too.”

“He’s probably married. That’s always my luck.”

“Well, if you don’t go in there, I will.”

“You have a boyfriend. Why do you need to go in? I’m the one who, to hear everyone tell it, is in desperate need of a date.”

“Do I sense a bit of jealousy?”

“I gotta go to work.”

I hung up and finished dressing for work. I was glad Mindy didn’t know that I took just a little while longer to dress for work than I normally did. Maybe I did need a tall cup of coffee to start my work day.

249

             
Me and My Ghoulfriends

Chapter 2

I spotted Brianna across the street, standing in her store; she definitely had the catbird seat for all of the action outside. She wanted to see and be seen. Mostly seen. Mannequins were posed stylishly in the windows with the latest fashions. Brianna could have easily passed for one of those plastic figures.

I suspected she was probably cursing me under her breath when she caught me watching her. She threw up her hand in a pathetic attempt at a friendly wave. Brianna had never liked me, so I knew she was just being facetious every time she acknowledged my presence. I couldn’t figure out exactly what I had done to make her loathe me, but I kind of thought she just didn’t like anyone, so I tried not to take it personally.

Brianna Garret was a transplant to our little town. She’d married the president of a large bourbon company located on its outskirts and had reluctantly planted roots here to be with him. The way I heard it, she threw one heck of a hissy fit her first night in Magnolia because there wasn’t a decent beauty salon or a Starbucks.

Too bad when they’d divorced she’d decided to stay. I never understood why she didn’t go back to the big city; she was always raving about how much she loved it there. Plenty of people around here wished she had gone, including me.

I threw up my hand to mimic her half-hearted wave.
Oh God… she was coming.
She had tried to be friendly to me on several occasions, but it was painfully obvious it was all an act. Brianna strolled across the street and, all the while, traffic stopped just for her. The door to my bookstore,
Book Nook
, opened, and she sashayed through.

Down the aisle she came, as if it was her runway, swinging her hips effortlessly from side to side. I wondered how many hours she’d spent perfecting that strut. Such a walk could never come naturally.

Her hair was in one of those short spiky styles. Something I would never have the nerve to attempt. I was perfectly happy with my long dark locks; my hairstyle was not boring, but definitely not so over-the-top bold like hers. Most of the time I just pulled my hair back into a ponytail; it stays out of my eyes, which makes it easier to hunt for ghosts.

Every little blond spike on top of her head looked as if it had been purposely positioned, as if every strand had its place and Brianna knew exactly how to put it there.

“Hi, Brianna,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment that she was standing in my store.

“Hi, Larue,” she said dryly.

Clearly she felt the same way I did.

“Just thought I’d stop in and congratulate you on winning that award,” she said, not looking at me, but instead picking a non-existent piece of fuzz from her too-short skirt.

I’d recently been recognized by the state as an exceptional female small business owner. Brianna had not been recognized, and she was not pleased, even if she did try to hide it. Brianna owned a high-end women’s clothing boutique in designer fashions—she catered to all the rich women in town. I remembered hearing her complain about having nowhere decent to shop when she first came to this place I called home, and in no time she’d opened her own store.

Rumor has it she envisioned herself in Manhattan rather than downtown Magnolia.

Don’t get me wrong, I love designer clothes as much as the next girl and, from the looks of my closet, maybe even a little more. However, I felt there was a time and place for every outfit. And eleven a.m. on a Monday was
not
the time to wear the latest Christian Louboutin, not in Magnolia.

As I glanced down to inspect Brianna’s latest shoe purchase (five-inch sassy red cork-heeled pumps) I had to admit they were gorgeous. Although, I could never work all day standing in my shop wearing those. My dogs would be barking way before noon.

“Thanks,” I said, staring at her, waiting to find out what she really wanted. I refused to believe she’d come over just for that. She wasn’t exactly the type to offer congratulations to anyone.

Brianna stared back without saying a word. Silence was suspended in the air. It was like a showdown to see who would speak next.

She picked up a book nearby and glanced at the back cover, then finally said, “So, I guess you saw there’s a new coffee shop opening today?”

And there it was, the
real
reason she was there. Why had she even tried to fake the congratulations? She should have just come out with the truth to begin with. Without a doubt, that would have been too easy, though.

“Yes, I saw.” I didn’t offer any more details, especially not the tiny detail that I thought the owner of said coffee shop was gorgeous. Although I suspected she already knew that or she wouldn’t be standing in front of me talking about it. I knew what she was up to; she was trying to feel me out to see if I’d already met him. No doubt she wanted to get her claws into him. I didn’t have time for her silly games, I had a business to run.

“Have you met the owner yet?”

“No, I haven’t. I’m sure I’ll do the neighborly thing soon and stop in and say hello.” I couldn’t resist adding that last part.

“Well, I’ve met him already and he is darling. We’re practically like this.” She held up her two brightly polished fingers and crossed them, indicating they were apparently the best of friends.

So she was letting me know she had her eye on him. She was staking her claim. Whatever; she could have him. If he was interested in her then I didn’t want anything to do with him. But since Brianna had been known to stretch the truth, I doubted they were that close.

“That’s great Brianna. Look, I’ve got a lot of work to get done. So maybe we could discuss the new guy in town later?”

She gave me an irritated look. “Yeah, I have a lot of work too. I need to get back before the crowd swamps me.” She took a quick look around my empty store.

As she turned, I rolled my eyes behind her back.

Abraham Lincoln had been listening intently to the entire conversation, standing at the counter just inches away from Brianna. Oh how I wish he’d have appeared and scared the hell out of her. He shook his head in disapproval, not at my eye rolling, but just at Brianna in general.

Even he didn’t like her, and I thought he liked everyone. Well, with the exception of, um… I couldn’t think of one enemy of President Lincoln’s. He was always willing to forgive. I, on the other hand, was not so forgiving.

“Good riddance,” I said, as she drifted out the door.

Later that morning, I stopped just short of the coffee shop window, which was a few steps to the side and to the front of me. I smoothed down my favorite black top, fluffed my hair back, then held my hand over my mouth and blew.
Breath seemed to be okay
. I gathered my thoughts, then forced my foot to take another step. I grabbed the handle, pushed the rickety door open, and strolled inside.

There was no turning back at that point. My heart flip-flopped when I saw him behind the counter, pouring what was probably some complicated drink for the lone customer in the shop. He was perfect.

Short dark hair, dazzling blue eyes, and lips so full any Hollywood it-girl would be jealous. Although his lips weren’t the least bit feminine, not in the slightest. They were, I happened to notice, very kissable. Yes, as I stared at him I realized he might have possessed the most kissable lips I’d ever laid eyes on.

His coffee shop,
Full Cup Coffeehouse
, was cozy, like so many of the other stores along the main street in town. Right next door to mine. We shared the same historic building. Hmmm. That’s not all I’d like to share with him.

Exposed brick walls with prints of different style coffee cups and mugs covered them. Oversized leather chairs were placed into groupings with cherry-wood tables in the middle. It was the perfect mixture of old and new.

The intoxicating aroma of coffee swirled around the room, enveloping my senses with its strong scent as I approached the counter, trying to divert my eyes from his handsome features. I studied the menu perched high on the wall above the display case. Like it even mattered what I ordered. I knew I wasn’t really there for a latte, frappuccino, or any other hot beverage for that matter.

The woman in front of me paid for her drink and then, suddenly, I was alone with him.
Damn.
I should have just run. He didn’t know who I was. I could have made a dash for it and he would have never seen me ever again.

It was all Mindy’s fault. If she hadn’t mentioned him earlier I probably wouldn’t have come over at all. All right, maybe I would have, but still…

Movement caught my eye and I turned to look out the tall windows that lined the front of the shop. Very cute, speak of the devil. Mindy was casually strolling by and conspicuously gawking in the window at us. Very subtle note-to-self: find a new best friend.

“May I help you?” His voice snapped my thoughts away from my ex-best friend.

Our eyes met. I thought I might melt into the hardwood planks under my feet, like butter on a stack of pancakes. At that moment, I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I swallowed nervously.

Around the opposite sex, I’d always tried to remain calm and collected. Granted, most of the time it didn’t work out that way, but, oh well, at least I tried. Obviously, I was still searching for Mr. Right. I’d had my share of dates from hell over the years. Because of that, I think my mother had reluctantly come to the grim conclusion I was never getting married.

I’ll never have grandchildren,
she would cry, every time I talked to her. I guess I had given her reason to worry; it had been a very long time since I’d had a date. Or at least what I considered to be a date. My last date had been disastrous.

To my chagrin, I’d allowed my mother to set me up on a blind date with the son of one of the women from her book club. “He’s charming,” she’d said. I still couldn’t believe I had agreed to that. I guess the date wouldn’t have been so bad, if I hadn’t objected to dating a cross between a large werewolf and an octopus. Hairy, and all hands.

I suddenly realized I’d been staring at Mr. Good-looking-coffee-shop-owner for an awkwardly long time. I tried to cover my tracks as best as I could.

“Um. There’s so much to choose from. I’m having a hard time making a decision. I had no idea there were so many coffee possibilities.”

His arms flexed, and muscles appeared as he moved forward to lean against the counter. Then he flashed me a full bright smile, revealing his perfect set of teeth. I’d never seen a more perfect smile. So bright and so white.

“Please, take your time,” he said. His eyes were still focused on me.

Suddenly, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I was utterly embarrassed. I hoped it wasn’t painfully obvious to him I’d been checking out his rather pumped biceps. Coming to my senses slightly, and I do mean slightly, I glanced up at the menu again, pausing for a second to pick out something. Anything. Who knew there could be so many coffee options?
Caffé Americano,
Caramel Frappuccino, Cinnamon Dulce Latte, and the list went on and on.
I could feel his eyes watching and studying me.