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After the meet and greet, I headed back to my hotel room where Amber and Karen were waiting for me.
“So,” she began, “I see Yolanda is trying to put the moves on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “She only invited me to friend her on social media, Amber. What’s wrong with networking with fellow authors?”
Karen stated, “Because it could open the door to something more down the line?”
“Oh, for the love of...” I argued. “Just because I want to befriend a fellow author, who happens to be female, does not necessarily mean that she’s going to hit on me. Besides, there are a plethora of female authors at this event. Are both of you going to give me grief if I befriend any of the others who’ll be signing this weekend?”
Resigned, the specters gave up for the time being. “Alright, alright,” Karen replied. “We’ll drop it for the time being. I see you had no such luck in finding out who was behind the prank, huh?”
I shook my head. "Unfortunately, not. After our discussion about Canadian cuisine, I tried to pick the brains of Yolanda and Stephanie, and while we brainstormed about the plausible reasons behind it, we couldn't nail down anything concrete."
"So,” Amber concluded, “you're back to square one, then."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Apparently so. I was hoping to figure this out by the end of the weekend, but I’m starting to think that I'm going to have something to explain to the Customs officer when I get back to Toronto, should they end up checking my luggage."
Amber cringed. "Please tell me you're not planning on bringing that back home with you."
"Well, it's not like I can dispose of it in the trash. Housekeeping would give me a funny look if they were to find it in there."
The specters thought for a moment. "You do have a point,” Karen said. “I would suggest turning it into the hotel's lost and found, but that would be as embarrassing as finding it in the first place."
I shook my head. "Oh God, no. If Housekeeping would give me funny looks, could you imagine the expression on the face of the Concierge if I plopped that in front of her? I'm caught in a situation where I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I can't win worth trying."
Amber asked, "What are you going to do, then?"
I sighed. "I’m going to try and tough this out. I mean, I've already paid for my table tomorrow, and the room until Sunday. I'd hate to haul all twenty copies of these books back to Toronto in my luggage."
I was at a loss. There was no way out of my dilemma. The only option I had was to put on a brave face, and risk being ridiculed by whomever was behind the prank, that is if the culprit was only one person. Yolanda and Stephanie had mentioned there were fan groups who were protective of the authors they support. Was one of those cliques turning against me because they believed I had no business being at this event, citing that only romance authors were welcome? If that was the case, why was I the one they were targeting? I figured I wasn't the only non-romance author signing at the event. Were there other authors here being pranked, as well? There was a bevy of questions swirling around in my head, but no answers were coming to me.
I let out a deep sigh. My aspirations of having a wonderful experience was being tarnished by this mystery, and it was playing havoc on my mind. I thought about talking to one of the organizers about the situation to see if they might have some suggestions with how to handle it. I debated about it with Amber, and she said that they were probably busy with tying up the last-minute details of the signing the next day. The specter cautioned that bringing this to their attention might cause unnecessary stress to them. I was about to err on the side of my own piece of mind when I heard a knock at my door.
"I wonder who the hell is visiting at this hour?" I asked.
"Maybe it's the pranksters planning on kidnapping you," Karen suggested.
"Now that's far-fetched," I commented. "Although, it would make for a good plot for a future novel."
"Phil," Amber admonished. "This is no time to start chasing plot bunnies. Go see who's at the door, and what they want. Be careful, though."
I nodded, and cautiously approached the door. I peeked through the peep hole, and saw Yolanda standing outside. I opened the door, and began talking to my fellow Canadian author.
"Hey, Yolanda," I greeted. "What's up?"
"I thought you might still be rattled by what had happened, and thought you wanted to talk some more about it."
"I'll admit I'm still perturbed about the whole situation," I confessed, "but it is what it is."
"Do you mind if I come in for a bit?" she requested.
I could hear both Amber and Karen cringe at the request, but I ignored my spiritual guises, much to their chagrin.
"I was about to go to go see if Alice or Wendy were still up, so I could talk to them about the incident earlier, but if you want to hang out for a bit, I could delay it."
I invited Yolanda into my room, and closed the door behind me. I noticed my friend was feeling a little antsy herself, so I invited her to take a seat on my bed while I sat down in the chair by the desk in the room.
"Is something wrong?" I queried.
"I must confess I'm having problems sleeping myself," she admitted. "I came to Wichita for this signing, and left my significant other back in Orillia."
A light gust of air blew across the back of my neck, as Amber exhales a sigh of relief from Yolanda’s revelation.
"I know what you mean," I said. "My fiancée is back in Ontario, too. I was hoping she could come down with me, but she couldn't get away from work."
"What part of Ontario does she live in?" Yolanda asked. "By the way you phrased it, she doesn't live in Toronto?"
"She lives up on Rice Lake in the Kawarthas," I explained, "and works at the university in Peterborough."
"That's a nice part of the province up that way."
"Not as picturesque as it is in your neck of the woods, especially in the Fall when the leaves change color."
"Anywhere in cottage country is like that during the season," Yolanda stated. "I must admit, though, the Muskokas get more publicity during that time of year."
"It does at all times of the year," I observed. "You have the boaters during the summer, leaf watchers in the fall, then the skiers and snowmobile riders on the trails in the winter."
"Don't forget the fishing enthusiasts," she pointed out.
I nodded. "True, but you get that at all times of the year. Ice fishing in the winter, and in boats during the warmer months."
Yolanda was impressed. "You sure know a lot about Central Ontario," she commented. "You must have visited quite a bit in your life."
"Not really," I confessed. "I attended a summer camp near Parry Sound in my early teen years, and once to Gravenhurst to visit the relatives of a woman I dated in my twenties. But I admit to peeking in on the news broadcasts from the TV station in Barrie from time to time."
"I would think you would do that with the TV station in Peterborough."
"I do that, too. I watch my fair share of Toronto stations, but it gets boring after a while. That's why I try tuning into stations from other parts of the province when I can, whether it's Barrie, Peterborough, or Hamilton. I remember growing up, my cable provider would also broadcast the channel down in Kitchener." I chuckled at my recollection. "I would come home from junior public school for lunch, watch the noon cartoons on the Kitchener station, and just before they came on, there would be a farming forecast report. Looking back, I thought it was so cool."
Yolanda laughed. "Cartoons at noon? That must have been a long time ago."
"A good thirty-five years ago," I noted. "Television was so much different back then."
My fellow author agreed. "It has. The world has gotten so complicated nowadays. I wish we could go back to simpler times; although, I must say, you don't look like you're in your forties."
"Thank you for the compliment, but it's true. I've never been married; although, this is my first engagement, and I don't have any kids. I'm a rarity in my own right."
"That would explain why you look as young as you do. You've never had to deal with those kinds of stresses."
"Oh, I've had my share of other types of stress," I said, "mostly financial ones, but none of the dependent variety yet."
"Do you think that will change in the near future between you and your fiancée?" Yolanda asked.
"I think it will," I mused. "It depends on certain factors with my job and home life. My roommate can be a pain in the ass with his demands, but I sometimes wonder if he can keep himself out of trouble should I move out."
Yolanda was confused. "He's had problems with the law before?"
"Not that kind of trouble," I clarified.
I explained the history of my tenure as the roommate with my friend, Jim Marsden. However, I was quick to point out he considered me as someone beneath him, even referring to me as his 'underling.' I told Yolanda about the time in 2010 when I was a savior to Jim after he went on a serious drinking binge. I cited it was so severe, he ended up spending ten days in the intensive care unit at one of the major hospitals in Toronto. To this day, Jim had never thanked me for getting him the medical attention he needed. In retrospect, I thought he hid some resentment for trying to help him when he was in the depths of his misery and despair. On the other side of the coin, I was also bitter over the fact he never showed his gratitude towards me. Despite all of this, we continued to live with one another because I had nowhere else to go; at least, not until Maggie came into my life.
In the recent weeks leading up to my trip to Wichita, I had contemplated about settling down with my fiancée. The only problem was, I had started my job as a courier less than a year ago. I thought it would have been unprofessional if I were to leave my new position just so I could move away to start a new life with the woman in my life. However, there have been times when Jim has caused me grief to the point where relocating to the Kawarthas seem like a viable option. One such instance was when he informed me if I were to seriously consider moving out of his place to be with Maggie, I had to give him six months' notice. The edict made me so furious, I headed out for a walk to clear my head. I ended up cooling my heels at a coffee shop near my old high school a mile and a half away while venting to Amber. It wasn't the first time I had gotten weird looks from others, as it appeared like I was talking to thin air. That was the problem when one of your friends is someone from the Other Side, onlookers think you're not right in the head. Of course, I have had my share of other issues in my life.
Aside from being friends with a ghost, I had been battling an addiction; not one that involved alcohol or illegal substances, but the issue of problem gambling. It was something I had gotten addicted to at a young age, but the issue didn't become severe until after Amber's passing. A few months after she passed away, I ventured to the horse racing and slot machine facility in the Rexdale neighborhood of Toronto on a whim. I had almost reached my limit when the machine I had been playing paid off. It wasn't a large sum I won, but it was enough to hook me to the point I started down a road of misery and despair that lasted for a decade. When I came to the realization I needed help, I started attending outpatient treatment at the Mental Health and Addiction Center in downtown Toronto. I received counseling for a year and a half until they claimed I was cured, but I knew I wasn't. I still gambled sporadically. It was then I started attending a twelve-step program to get further help. It’s something I still struggle with, but I had been clean ever since I commenced going to my semi-weekly meetings.
Yolanda took a deep breath. "Wow," she commented, "that's quite a story."
"Sorry to bore you with my life and problems," I apologized.
"It's okay. I've had my share of issues over the years myself."
"I highly doubt that."
Yolanda proceeded to tell me her life story. I learned most of her writing was based on her own experiences, including the more steamier segments of her books, which elicited a bit of a blush from yours truly. However, I agreed with her point the best writing comes from knowing what you're writing about, whether that came from personal knowledge, or extensive research; a trait, under my own admission, I needed to work upon in my own attempts at the craft. Yolanda was also the mother of two adult boys, but aside from them, did not have a male companion in her life. That was until she met her current beau, whom she met through an online dating site.
"I've tried one of those before," I remarked, "I ended up having a couple of dates with one woman, but it didn't pan out in the end."
"Believe me," Yolanda noted, "I came across my share of duds; all of them bragging they were something they truly were not. I was about to give up all hope until I stumbled across Randy's profile. We went a couple of times, and we clicked. We've been together ever since, and I couldn't be happier."
"That's wonderful," I commented. "It's amazing how we found our respective loves in the oddest of places."
Yolanda agreed and got up from the edge of my bed. "I should head back to my room, it is getting late. Thanks for the chat, Phil."
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" I queried.
"I believe I will. Being able to talk to someone has helped put me at ease. What about you? I bet you're probably excited and nervous at the same time."
I exhaled. "I admit I am a little, but our talk made me feel calmer than I was before. Thanks for stopping by."
We said our goodbyes, and I saw Yolanda out of my room; checking to make sure she got back to hers alright. Once she entered her suite, I closed the door behind me, turning to find Amber and Karen had reappeared in the room.
"Well, that was an interesting conversation," Amber commented. "For a second there, I thought she might put the moves on you."
"Not all women who are alone are like that," I remarked. "Yolanda is as committed to her relationship with Randy as I am in mine with Maggie."
"But there still is the small pink elephant in the room," Karen noted. "The matter of who left you that little present this morning."
I nodded. "And we still don't have any leads as to who did it."
"I hope it doesn't turn into a scene during the signing tomorrow," Amber worried.
"I confess, that is my main concern, too. Alice and Wendy have done wonders with this event, so far. I'd hate for this all to come to a head while the readers are visiting our respective tables."
The specters wished for the same thing, but then Amber had a novel suggestion. “I think you should call Maggie to let her know what’s going on.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble her at this hour. Besides, she’s probably already in bed, as we speak; what with the time difference, and all.”
“Phil,” Karen argued, “Wichita is only an hour behind the Kawarthas. I know she likes to turn in early, but I believe she would love to hear your voice, and so she knows you made it alright.”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated. But the more I turned it over in my head, the more it made sense. Plus, I do admit that I missed hearing my love’s sweet voice. After a few moments to think about it, I pulled out my smartphone, and dialed long-distance back to Canada.