“Tom!” I shouted and waved.
He hurried to my table in the restaurant. I stood to give him a warm hug. He had been away for eight weeks on a business trip and European castle tour. Of course, I wanted to hear all about his trip, but I was excited and anxious to tell him about my own amazing experience.
“Did you see any ghosts in the castles?”
“No, but the tour guide assured us the castles were haunted.” He grinned. “Let’s order lunch. I’m hungry.”
Soon the food was served, and we exchanged small talk while enjoying our meals.
“Okay,” Tom said after we finished eating, “you can stop with the pleasantries and tell me what’s on your mind before you burst.”
I leaned forward. “It was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me. For the past six weeks, I lived on a beautiful historic estate in Savannah, Georgia and substituted for my Aunt Sue as a governess while she recuperated from a car accident.”
“Is she okay now?”
“Yes, thank God. She’s back to taking care of precious little Cindy, who’ll be four years old next month. She’s a sweet child. I miss her.”
“Tell me everything.” He arched his eyebrows and crossed his arms.
“Okay.” I took a sip of my ice tea. “A nice middle-aged chauffeur named George met me at the train station. As we drove through the iron gate of the mansion, I was impressed by the huge oak trees that flanked the drive. It was like driving through a long green tunnel as the boughs overhead blended together with dangling Spanish moss.
“The grounds of the estate are extensive and well kept. George told me he felt sorry for the little girl because her mother had died giving birth to her. Cindy’s father, a wealthy businessman, travels extensively and is seldom home.”
“That’s sad. Sounds like she’s essentially parentless.”
“The little girl only has the servants to keep her company, so she invented an imaginary playmate named Melanie. Aunt Sue and I played along to keep Cindy happy.”
“Sorry, but there’s nothing exciting about this. What aren’t you telling me?” He leaned forward.
“Hold on, I’m getting to it.” I took another sip of ice tea. “The mansion reminds me of the movie, Gone with the Wind. It has six huge white columns in front of its three stories. French doors open onto large verandas on each floor. The view from my room was spectacular.” I sighed. “Mrs. Stevens, the housekeeper, is the stern type. She manages all the help and doesn’t put up with, as she called it, imaginary nonsense.”
“Describe Cindy. Is she a troubled child?” He sat back and sipped his beer.
“She’s shy and small for almost four but pretty with long blond hair and blue eyes. She reminds me of the Precious porcelain statues I’ve seen in the Hallmark shops. When I met her, she hid behind the housekeeper.
“Mrs. Stevens pulled Cindy in front of her and said, ‘This is Cindy. She has an imaginary friend named Melanie. Cindy never does anything wrong, but her friend, Melanie, does. Isn’t that right, Cindy?’
“The little girl lowered her head and said, ‘Yes, Ma’am.’ I felt sorry for her. It didn’t take long for me to win her over. You know I’m good at that, don’t you?” I grinned at Tom.
He nodded and smiled. “Yes, we all know you’re charming.”
“So Cindy took my hand and led me to my room upstairs next to hers. The chauffeur followed us with my luggage. Cindy showed me her bedroom and the connecting playroom filled with toys, dolls, and books. It was furnished with a table, chairs, and two children’s rocking chairs. The new rocker was by the bookcase, and the antique rocker was placed in front of the French doors. I pointed at it and asked her if she liked to look outside while she rocked in the chair. She said, ‘No, that’s Melanie’s rocking chair. She doesn’t like anyone to touch her things. Besides, mine’s newer.’”
“If she’s an only child, why are there two rocking chairs?”
“Good question. I wondered the same thing.”
“Did you discover the answer?”
“Ah, yes. Cindy loved having someone read stories to her, and shelves of children’s books lined the playroom. I enjoyed my time with her, and we got along fine.
“One day, Mrs. Stevens accused Cindy of not putting her toys away before she went to bed. But I told Mrs. Stevens I had helped her put them away. She glared at Cindy and said, ‘Am I supposed to believe Melanie played with your toys while you slept? Don’t lie!’ Cindy’s lip quivered, so I put my arm around her.”
Tom’s face reddened. “What a bitch!”
“She sure was. Mrs. Stevens glared at both of us and stomped out of the room. I pulled a book from the shelf to read to Cindy and found an antique music box hidden behind it. The lid had an inlaid picture of a lovely woman asleep in bed. The label inside said the song was ‘Beautiful Dreamer’ by Stephen Foster, one of my favorites. I didn’t see the key to wind it up, so I asked her if she had it. She claimed she’d never seen the music box before, so I set it back on the shelf and read her a story as I held her on my lap.
“That night I couldn’t sleep, wondering if Cindy walked in her sleep like I had done when I was a child. In the wee hours, I heard faint music. My French doors to the veranda were open, and so were the ones to her bedroom and playroom. I put on my robe and slippers and tiptoed into her room. She was sound asleep. The music was coming from the playroom—the music box playing ‘Beautiful Dreamer.’”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “So what happened next?”
“I slowly turned the doorknob to the playroom and opened it without a sound. A little girl bathed in moonlight was rocking in the antique chair in front of the French doors. She had long brown hair and wore an old-fashioned dress with a pinafore. She was holding the music box and staring out across the lawn toward the old wishing well.
“When I gasped, she vanished, and the music box clattered to the floor. You see, Melanie wasn’t imaginary after all. She was a little ghost from the past!”