An autumn sun was spiking its rays through the kitchen window as I walked out with the Monday morning doldrums. Work sounded like pure drudgery after the weekend. Jackson and I had spent the evening talking and dreaming about the farm. After a half hour of standing on a sheep farm, smelling the smells and listening to their discordant voices (Minnie explained that they had different tones for different reasons and that they were always quite talkative) we decided we'd definitely avoid sheep.
"You need to drink your coffee," Edward suggested. "You look ghastly."
"Always a confidence builder to have a man who is literally dead tell you, you look ghastly." I filled the coffee pot with water.
"I believe in honesty, but if you'd prefer I lie—" His tall, lean figure emerged from thin air. His features looked sharp and clear as he moved toward me. "Why, there's a comely, young woman standing in the kitchen. She's absolutely radiant. I don't know when I've ever come across such a beautiful, exotic creature." He peered at me through transparent blue eyes. "Better?"
I shrugged. "It'll do." A text came through. It was no doubt Myrna letting me know the time for the staff meeting. Mondays were always hard. I never knew what assignment Prudence would hand me for the week. Occasionally, she surprised me with something interesting, like a strange chemical being dumped in the river or a politician caught having an affair with another politician's wife. Most of the time, it was something that fit in well with the Monday doldrums. I clicked on the text.
"I happened to notice today's staff meeting agenda on Prudence's desk. Seems she's going to have you cover the anniversary celebration at the Thornbridge Hotel. Thought I'd warn you ahead of time so you can work on your poker face for when she tells you." Myrna and I had theorized that Prudence took delight in seeing our disappointment when she handed either of us a scowl-worthy assignment. It made her feel more boss-like. Myrna and I had been working on our non-committal reactions to deprive her of the thrill.
"Thanks. I'll be in soon. Just trying to wash away the grogginess with some coffee." I put down the phone and pulled a cup from the cupboard. Redford and Newman came bounding through the dog door, one behind the other. They had tried it simultaneously several times, which was always great for a moment of dog comedy. But this morning, Redford led the way and Newman followed with his ball jammed between his teeth. He dropped it at Edward's feet. Edward shot the ball down the hallway with merely a flick of his toe. It bounced from wall to wall, leaving marks as it went. I'd lectured both dog and ghost about playing ball in the house, but they never took me seriously, so I stopped wasting my breath. Especially after Edward told me I was sounding astonishingly like his mother, Margaret Ethel Beckett, a woman he clearly held little regard for. (And from the stories he'd told me, it was easy to see why.)
I sat down with my hot cup of coffee. It was Monday so Prudence would have pastries or donuts for the staff meeting. There was no need for breakfast. I thought about my next assignment and how I should react to it. "Oh Prudence, dear, thank you so much for wasting my college degree and years of experience on a hotel anniversary," I said sweetly.
Edward glanced around. "Who are you talking to?"
"No one. Just practicing." My face snapped up from my coffee. "The Thornbridge. I'll be at the Thornbridge."
"And should I alert the king and queen about that?" Edward asked. "Perhaps the daily town crier could make an announcement."
I peered up at him as I sipped my coffee. I lowered the cup. "You do realize we don't have a king or queen in this country, and town criers sort of died off with lamplighters and chimney sweeps. Actually, they still have people who clean chimneys, but they don't use little barefoot boys anymore. Labor code and all that."
Edward stared down at me for a long time. There was just enough flare in his vaporous nostrils to assure me he was annoyed. "I think you should drink two cups this morning."
"Nope, one should do, and now I'm feeling energized because my next assignment will take me to the Thornbridge Hotel, and while I'm there, I am going to try my darndest to communicate with your friend, Thomas McRooney." I laughed and leaned back a little. "Wow, you're so clearly in focus I feel like I could reach out and touch you. I thought the mention of your friend would catch your attention."
"I have had precisely three friends in my life. Two of them had four legs and hooves and one had big paws."
I pretended to pout. "Ah, I thought we were friends."
"Yes, well in a forced, imprisoned together sort of friendship, I suppose."
"My, someone is a grumpy spirit this morning. Was it the mention of my next assignment?" I could sense the air in the kitchen getting cooler, a shift in atmosphere caused by an abrupt ghost-y mood change.
"I forbid you to talk to Thomas," Edward said.
"And why is that?" I asked teasingly. "I already know that Edward Beckett of nineteenth century Firefly Junction was quite the—" I paused to look for a term. I'd tried rogue and blackguard and scoundrel. He took great offense to each of them. I opted for a more modern-day phrase. "The bad boy."
"Bad boy?" he asked so loudly, the dogs decided to trot back outside.
"Look, you've scared the dogs, you very bad boy." I sighed. "I'm just teasing you. It's a phrase they use now to describe a male who is—who is—oh my gosh, I'm just digging myself deeper. I would love to meet Thomas, but there's a good chance he won't even show himself to me. Raine's friend, Dex, has the talent to see incorporeal beings whether they want to be seen or not. As you know, I do not have that kind of skill. I just happen to be a human who is not the least bit afraid of ghosts. I'm hoping he'll sense that and make himself known."
"How do you know Thomas is not a menacing spirit?"
"Because I've read the charming letter he dictated to Dex. He seems likeable and sweet. It'll be nice to meet a ghost with a different disposition than the one I live with."
"What does that mean?" he asked as he followed me to the sink. "I have a fine disposition. I am a gentleman, after all."
Whenever he was angry, he tended to float even higher off the ground. I'd surmised he did that to gain some superiority over our conversation. I smiled up at him. "Yes, a bad boy gentleman. They're all the rage in romance novels."
He realized he wasn't getting through to me and took on a more serene countenance. "Please, don't talk to Thomas," he said, with a slightly pleading tone.
I turned and leaned against the counter. "Why are you concerned about it?" He looked so troubled, I almost felt bad about teasing him.
"Thomas McRooney was one of those men who liked to cackle on like an old church lady telling everyone the town's gossip."
"All right, I'll look past the part where you immediately compare a gossipy man to a woman. What could he possibly tell me about you that I don't already know? I know you had an affair with your cousin's wife. I know you fathered an illegitimate baby. Thank you for that, by the way. I turned out to be the beneficiary of that indiscretion in the long run. I know how you died." As I was listing all the scandalous details of his life, it occurred to me it wasn't the scandals he was worried about. I pushed off the counter. "You don't want me to hear about her, the woman you loved."
"McRooney will pretend he knows all about it but he doesn't. He spent his days and nights, head heavy with liquor as he lost everything he owned at the gaming tables. I don't want you to hear anything he has to say about—" He faded off both in words and image. Seconds later, he appeared in a brooding, hunched over position on the hearth.
I walked over to him. "Then why don't you tell me about Kat? Let me hear it all from you."
His facial features smeared and then grew clearer as he lifted his head to look at me. "Why would you be interested in all that? It's been two hundred years."
"And I'll bet you remember every detail about her."
Edward looked toward the kitchen window. "As if it was yesterday and clear as that day outside the window."
"Then it's settled. I have to go to work right now but when there's time, I want to hear about Kathy Garfield. I want to hear about Kat." I went back to my room to get my purse and keys.
"Just don't bother with that daft ghost at the Thornbridge." Edward's loud voice circled the kitchen and followed me down the hallway.