The First Ghost Page 2

  “No. I’ll get evicted. I can’t have pets in my building.” Honestly, what would I do with a dog?

  “At least find the doggy a good home.”

  I glared at Hephzibah. “This is your gig. Not mine. Why are you dragging me into this?”

  “I’m afraid Corinne is sort of fixated on you.” Hephzibah shrugged. “It happens.”

  “I’m haunting you,” Corinne said cheerfully.

  “Sometimes they’re a little reluctant to let go of this life. You can help them along their way. It’s your destiny, Portia.”

  “You’re a Mahaffey,” Corinne said. “Death told me.”

  “Hephzibah, doll. Call me Hephzibah. Yeah, I told her a little. I figure it’ll smooth things along.”

  “I promised the phone call, but that is it. I don’t do dogs. Sorry.” I hardened my heart. See, that’s what happens. You promise one thing and suddenly they need more. It’s never enough with the dead. And if I helped one ghost, more were sure to follow with their requests.

  Corinne started weeping dry tears again. “You’re not at all like Death said you would be. You’re mean. I am so out of here.”

  “Good girl,” Hephzibah said. “Let’s go.”

  “Stay away from me.” Corinne pointed an accusatory finger at her. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I’m good and ready.”

  And then she vanished. I blinked a time or two to make sure.

  “Well, that’s good,” I said. “She’s gone.”

  “She’ll be back,” Hephzibah said. “I told you. She’s fixated on you. This is really important. She needs to come with me and separate herself from this world. She can’t stay here. Do you want to have conversations with her ten years from now? That’s what could happen if... Just help her out. Call the aunt. Find a home for the doggy.”

  I closed my eyes. “Fine. I’ll try.” If it would make it stop. “Only this one time. Don’t send any more ghosts my way.”

  She patted my arm. “I knew you would help. You’re a good girl, Portia. You’re a Mahaffey.”

  Chapter 2

  I kept my eyes closed and mentally whined. Why did I have to be born a Mahaffey? Why a bump on the head today of all days? Why did my first encounter with a ghost have to be with an overwrought dog lover? Why? I was hoping to slip off into sleep, but I heard soft sounds in my room.

  When I opened my eyes to see a gorgeous man with dark hair, blue eyes and a killer smile standing at the foot of my bed, I had two thoughts. The first was: I hope this isn’t a dream. The second, which unfortunately I said aloud, was: “Please tell me you aren’t another ghost.”

  He smiled as if I had said something witty. “Sorry I disturbed you.” He had a lovely voice, warm and baritone.

  I smiled back at him. If he was a ghost, he was a nice change from Corinne. I wouldn’t mind being haunted by those eyes.

  “I’m Portia.” It’s hard to flirt when you’re lying in a hospital bed.

  “I know.” He tapped the chart he was holding and something clicked in my addled brain. Oh. White coat. Reading chart. “Are you my doctor?”

  “I was the attending physician when they brought you into the ER. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  Drat. “I guess I’m going to be fine.”

  “I can see that.” He smiled again and my heart did a little flip that had nothing to do with my health. His smile lit the sterile room. “Do you mind?” He moved closer with his penlight and peered into my eyes. “Don’t blink.”

  I tried to not blink and to look beautiful at the same time. It isn’t possible. I blinked like a nervous owl until he finally had to hold my eyelid open with a gentle finger. He had wonderful hands.

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “Not at all. You’re the perfect patient.” He sat on the edge of my bed.

  Oh, be still my heart. There was that smile again. “Do you visit all your patients?”

  “Only the beautiful ones.”

  Holy crap. He was flirting. I did a little giddy dance inside, but for some reason I was tongue-tied. I searched frantically for something witty to say, but what popped out instead was, “Were you her doctor, too?”

  He pulled back slightly with a puzzled look. “Her?”

  “Her. That girl.” I motioned toward Corinne’s now empty bed. “The one who died.”

  “Oh, that girl. Yes, I was the attending when she was brought in, too. Very sad. She was so young.”

  “She didn’t have any family or anyone except her aunt.”

  He sat up straighter. “Did you know her?”

  “No, I...um...” I’m a dreadful liar. My mind searched for something plausible. “I overheard somebody talking.”

  “The nurses?” He frowned. “Hospital personnel shouldn’t be gossiping like that.”

  I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble. “I don’t think it was a nurse. I...I’m not sure who it was.” I put a hand dramatically to my forehead and felt the bandage there. “I’m not quite myself today. Maybe I misunderstood. I hoped that her aunt knew. That’s all.”

  “It’s sweet to be so concerned about a stranger.” The warm smile was back. He was either the most compassionate doctor I’d ever met or he was totally digging me. Somehow I wasn’t sure whether to be creeped out or flattered.

  “I sort of feel responsible for her.” As I said it, I realized it was true and I knew I was going to help Corinne. Just this one time. Just this one ghost. “No one should die all alone. Did they get in touch with her aunt?”

  “I don’t know. I just did the ER intake. I can check.”

  “Would you? It would really set my mind at ease. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here.”

  “I imagine they’ll let you go home tomorrow afternoon. We only admitted you because you were unconscious for so long. That’s not normal given the severity of your injury.”

  “I thought it was just a bump.”

  “It was. I meant the injury wasn’t that severe. You shouldn’t have been out of it for so long. But your eyes rolled up and you were muttering about a man on the train tracks and...well...it was a little spooky,” he admitted, not looking at all stalker-ish. “When I heard you were okay, I wanted to see for myself.”

  “I know I fell, but I don’t remember much after that.”

  “That part is normal for a head injury. At least you didn’t damage anything permanently. You should probably stay at home for a couple of days to heal up. You...uh...do live around here, right?”

  He was so cute and transparent. “I’m local,” I said with a smile. “I wish I could stay at home, but my boss is a real Cruella de Vil. It’s back to work for me. She would fire me for any old reason.”

  “Even with a doctor’s note?”

  I considered the offer. “Not then, but she’d make my life hell. It’s better that I go in. How early will they let me out of here?”

  “Not too early. You have to be cleared by the specialist first and you definitely aren’t going to work tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. If you wanted to give me your number, I could call you.” He made a note on the clipboard. “About the aunt,” he added.

  My smile grew. “You can call me for any old reason.” I gave him my number.

  * * * *

  Dr. Wonderful was absolutely right about the timeliness of my release. I spent the better part of the next day being poked and prodded and annoyed by a rainbow of lab techs and nurses and doctors wearing colorful scrubs.

  By two o’clock that afternoon I was pissed off and ready to check out of the hospital. I sat in my wheelchair like an invalid in the U-shaped drive-through waiting to be picked up like luggage, watching cars cycle through and wondering where the heck my brother was. Harry is rarely on time, but you’d think he could manage to pick up his only sister from the hospital after he had promised me faithfully that he would. I wrapped the hospital blanket tighter around me. Much more of this and I would have to go back inside. My toes already felt numb even though I’d put my boo
ts and wooly socks back on.

  “Are you sure someone’s coming to pick you up?”

  I recognized the morose voice without turning my head. “I wondered when you’d be back, Corinne.”

  “I was so depressed, I needed to find chocolate.”

  “You can eat?” That was interesting.

  “No.” Corinne sounded even sadder.

  “All the more reason to cross over.”

  “No.”

  I sighed and glanced around to make sure no one was measuring me for a straitjacket. Thank God that in the wireless age people can seem to be talking to the thin air. No one was paying me any mind.

  “I’ve been thinking, Corinne. I’ll call your aunt for you and give her whatever message you want, even if the hospital already did. And I’ll check on the dog. I’ll make sure he’s got a good home. How’s that?”

  “Really? You’ll do that?”

  “Miss?” An orderly gave me a puzzled look. I looked at him like he was daft and tapped my ear like I had an earpiece in it. He nodded and wandered off. I was going to have to buy a wireless set for real and wear it before I got carted off to the funny farm.

  “Yes, I’ll do it. But you have to promise to let Hephzibah take you across, okay? Deal?” She was silent for long enough to make me look over at her. “Hello? Earth to Corinne?”

  “What are you doing?” Harry stood there holding open the door to a gray Honda Civic.

  “I didn’t recognize the car. Where’s your Chevy?”

  “It’s a rental. The Nova’s getting a new suspension and Mother has the van. Are you getting in?”

  I scowled back. “Took you long enough to get here. I’m frigging cold.”

  “So get in the car.”

  A gentleman would have offered to help me, but this was no gentleman. This was my twin brother. I had to schlep my belongings into the car myself. “Thanks for the lift.”

  “Yeah, Mother said I had to. How’s your head?”

  “It hurts. How’s Jennifer?”

  “We broke up.” He pulled forward slowly, trying to avoid the wheelchair orderlies, but as soon as he cleared the patient-zoned horseshoe he stomped the gas. The rental lingered for a moment and then leapt forward, mashing me back against the seat. I closed my eyes. Harry’s driving is enough to scare anyone half to death and if I looked up and saw Hephzibah riding shotgun with us, I’d probably start screaming.

  “Sorry about Jennifer.”

  “Why? You hated her.”

  I winced at the squealing of brakes. Honking and swearing told me we were merging onto the turnpike.

  “She was silly and shallow,” I said. “You can do better.”

  “She had big boobs.”

  “On second thought, maybe you two deserved one another.”

  He swore and the car swerved to the left. I braced myself against the dash, still refusing to open my eyes.

  “I’m not exactly a hot commodity on the dating circuit, Portia.”

  “I was just kidding, Harry. You’re a catch.”

  More swerving and swearing. “Yeah, right. I live at home.”

  “And whose fault is that? Move out, deadbeat. You’ve got a job.”

  “I work at a funeral home. Women think it’s creepy.”

  I think it’s creepy and I grew up with the business, but I wasn’t in the mood for a Harry pity party. “Listen to you, Mr. Negative. You make your own luck.”

  The sudden squeal of tires and smell of smoke caused my eyes to fly open and I squeaked at the sight of how close we had come to actually loading ourselves into the open back of a broken-down eighteen-wheeler. Harry swore and jerked the wheel hard to the right without checking his mirrors. I gripped the door handle and closed my eyes again.

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Harry said, continuing as if he hadn’t almost killed us both, “I bear a passing resemblance to Howdy Doody.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re almost identical.”

  “It’s totally different for you. Red hair and freckles are cute on a woman. On guys, not so much. And women aren’t tall and skinny. They’re willowy. Guys think it’s hot.” I rolled my eyes. Harry was always dating some idiotic lingerie model or something and then lamenting how shallow she was.

  “Six feet isn’t willowy, bonehead. It’s freakishly tall. What do you think that does to my dating options?”

  “You could date shorter men.”

  “You could date ugly women.”

  That cracked us both up, and after he screeched across three lanes of traffic and shot down the off-ramp at double the legal speed, he turned left to Italiano Soda Fountain instead of right toward my apartment. Good thing, because I had a serious craving.

  It was way too cold for the chocolate malted shakes, but Harry cranked up the car’s heater. We were giggly and silly from the sugar rush when he dropped me off at my apartment.

  Hephzibah hadn’t made an appearance, but Corinne sulked in the backseat for a while and then vanished. I’m not sure exactly when. Since I spent a lot of the time with my eyes shut, I didn’t see her go.

  As I turned the key into my apartment and opened the door, poof, there Corinne was, looking royally pissed. So much for no ghosts outside of the hospital. Ignoring her, I threw my plastic bag of clothes down on my chair and carefully set down my It’s a Girl bouquet.

  I adore my little apartment. It’s just an efficiency, but the design is modern and open. The living area blends right into the kitchen. Only the bathroom and bedroom are self-contained.

  The lush, beige carpet is lovely because I like being barefoot. I have an elegant leather sofa and a fireplace with a stone hearth. Not that I’ve ever lit a fire in it, but I could if I wanted to.

  Best of all, in the morning the sun comes in the kitchen window and the room glows with the warm light. Have I mentioned that I adore the place?

  And there Corinne was, sitting on my lovely leather couch, glaring at me when I’d done nothing to the girl. It wasn’t my fault she died. I had a bad day, too. Okay, hers was worse, but still. This was exactly why I wanted nothing to do with ghosts.

  “I am so not in the mood right now,” I said.

  “Really? You were yucking it up a minute ago with your friend.”

  “Brother.”

  “Whatever. You haven’t done anything that you promised.”

  “I just got out of the freaking hospital. Give me a break, okay?”

  “At least go get Billy.”

  “I said I would help you. Don’t push it. I will call your aunt in...”

  “Omaha. Aunt Susie.”

  “Right. I’ll call her. And I’ll check on your dog, but it’s going to have to wait. I need a shower.” I touched the bandage on my head. Blood crusted my hairline.

  “But she’s going to be worried.”

  I sighed and sat on the couch. Corinne was wearing me down. Was it really only yesterday she had died? This psychic stuff was exactly as I had feared. You can’t get away from a ghost. I counted to ten. Get rid of the ghost and get my life back. I could do this.

  “I’m sure they’ve told her already,” I said. “That’s what hospitals do. She knows.” I put my hand up to stop her protest. “I said I would call her and I will. But you have to give me a little time. This is all new to me.”

  “What about Billy? You don’t know my roommate. Ruth hates dogs.”

  “Nothing is going to happen in two days. Nobody is that heartless. I’m sure she’s got Aunt Susie on her way to pick up Billy or something like that. Maybe she’s given him to one of your friends.”

  Corinne sniffled. “I don’t have any friends.”

  Cripes, but the girl was pathetic. “Tomorrow,” I said wearily. “First thing in the morning I’ll go to your apartment and confront...”

  “Ruth.”

  “Right. Ruth. But you have to let me sleep now. I feel like crap and I have to work tomorrow.”

  She sniffled some more, but finally agreed and vanished.

/>   After removing the bandage, I took a long, hot shower. My head was tender and the dried blood required a second shampooing. It wasn’t until after the shower that I peeked at myself in the mirror. How could Dr. Yum possibly flirt with me? I was way paler than normal, and the dark circles under my eyes were disgusting.

  On my right temple was a huge knot. I peered closer. I didn’t have stitches. They had used something called Dermabond to glue the gash shut. I was promised it would heal with minimal scarring, and I had to admit it was hard to see where the gash had been. The lump was about the size of a quarter and looked grossly squishy. But when I touched it–OW!–it was actually quite firm.

  I wrapped myself in a blue chenille bathrobe that I liberated from a spa trip two years ago and padded into the kitchen to make a cup of cinnamon tea.

  I removed the blue willow teacup from its hook and turned. The cup slipped from my fingers at the sight of four men seated around my kitchen table.

  The men were vague, flickering images, playing cards. They ignored me. One of them leapt to his feet and went for the other one’s throat. Two men tried to pull him off his victim, who flailed around wildly. The image jumped like an old TV picture and they were seated, peacefully playing cards.

  The scene repeated again.

  And again.

  By the third repetition, my heart rate had returned to normal, but I no longer wanted tea. After satisfying myself that the cup didn’t appear damaged, I padded back into my living room.

  “It’s just a residual.” Hephzibah made herself comfortable on my couch.

  “Please tell me this type of thing won’t happen to me all the time.”

  “It’s okay, doll,” Hephzibah said. “It’s just a residual of an event. They aren’t really ghosts. In fact, most psychics can’t even see them. Your gift must be pretty strong.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t always be there. Residuals tend to come and go. Betcha they fade away soon.”

  “I appreciate the info,” I said. “Don’t take this the wrong way...”

  “I know, it’s late. But we need to talk, doll.”

  I was heartily sick of spooks and spirits, but how do you tell Death no? I dropped onto my sofa with a sigh and pulled my robe tighter. “So that residual. Does that mean someone died in my kitchen?”