Resurrecting Harry (21 page)

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Authors: Constance Phillips

BOOK: Resurrecting Harry
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Leaning over the table, she opened the small wooden box that served as a center piece, coming back with his wedding band. Not quite two weeks ago, the broken chain had devastated her, but in the last few days she’d forgotten all about giving it to Will. She hadn’t even touched the ring. Opening the clasp, Bess reunited the two pieces of jewelry and set them both on the table.

The first time she placed the band on the chain it’d been about keeping Harry physically close, but not this time. Now, it was as if she was letting him go. A piece of her would always be Harry’s, but Erich was right. Harry couldn’t consume her anymore. “These are the only two pieces of jewelry he ever gave me. The only extravagance we treated ourselves to...well, except this house.”

Erich’s hand fell to her knee, but he said nothing. With patience, he offered her quiet support and let her deal with the wave of emotions.

Her right hand went to her left ring finger. She gripped her own wedding band and twisted it to and fro, tugging it free. If she were truly dedicated to moving forward with Erich, it was the very least she owed him. It wasn’t fair to either man for her to make love to Erich while honoring her commitment to Harry with the symbol of marriage. After a moment, she slid it on the chain, closed the clasp and returned it to the oak box.

“Are you all right?” Erich asked.

“I am. I feels like it’s time.” She turned to face him and began to lean forward. As if he could sense what she needed, Erich wrapped his arm around her neck and guided her head to his shoulder. He kissed her forehead and then whispered, “I think we should go away, you and I. Maybe east, to the big city.”

She probably should have been offended by the suggestion. A decent woman wouldn’t tarnish her reputation that way, but the idea of going away with Erich thrilled her. “You really think we should?”

He paused and slid his hands down her arms. “I think I was pretty clear about how I feel for you last night, Bess. And I think you’re starting to feel something for me too.”

“But I...but you...”

“You’re still grieving, and I’m not anything like what you had in mind for your future, but life’s just that way sometimes. I think if you and I got away from here, went somewhere you could get a little anonymity, it’d help you heal. Then who knows what might happen. I’m here to take care of you. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises, Erich Welch.”

“And I intend to keep each and every one. You just need to trust me. Believe in me.”

Believe.
The same thing Harry had always asked for. The one thing she’d always given him. Was it right to now turn that faith over to another man? His plan of action did make sense. “My sisters say the same thing, you know, that it isn’t good for me to be out here alone, but I wasn’t alone. Not really. I had my friends and Harry’s memory.”

“You’ll still have your real friends, and you can carry the memories anywhere you go. We could go back to New York, if that’s what you want.”

For the first time in a long time her heart felt just a little lighter, and the tightness in her chest eased. Her grief was waning like a phase of the moon, inch by inch. “You’re right. We should go.”

Chapter Twenty
 

Bess didn’t recognize the feeling that had settled in her center: contentment.  If possible, she’d spend the day with her head on Erich’s shoulder, wrapped up in his protective embrace, listening to his slow, deep breathing. The way he kissed her and touched her was as if they’d been lovers for a lifetime, instead of less than twenty-four hours. She twisted her head and looked at his peaceful face, wondering how he could be so different from Harry, yet so similar.

The sun had begun to peek through the west window, confirming they’d burnt off most of the morning making love with each other and building plans for a bigger, better future. Part of her wondered if it was really possible. Could she forget her promises to Harry and go home with a new beau on her arm?

Like it had been extinguished by an autumn rain, the flames of her passion were drowned by guilt. She slid a finger down the length of his nose, across his lips and over his chin. All Erich asked for was her conviction and promised the world in return. And even though every bit of her heart and body screamed to submit and move forward, a tiny sliver of her heart couldn’t give up on Harry.

But what was she holding out for? Harry had already delivered his message. Choosing Erich as the catalyst might have been Harry’s way of giving this union his stamp of approval.

At least she could try and convince herself of that.

Erich was right. Harry was gone and wouldn’t be coming back. Determined to live whatever life she had left, Bess pulled from Erich’s clutch and slipped into her robe, returning to the kitchen.

The morning’s coffee was now a thick sludge in the bottom of the percolator, and she dumped it down the sink, set on making a fresh pot. Through the window, she saw a familiar car kicking up stones as it pulled into the driveway.

Gail Cooper.

Her final instruction to Martin had been for the two of them to come after lunch, which it was, but only Gail exited the car and walked toward the back door.

Maybe that was a good thing. She’d like to avoid another blow up between Erich and Martin — the last one had almost gone to fist-a-cuffs. It was going to be hard enough to tell Gail that she’d decided to abort the séance. She didn’t need inflated and angry male egos making it worse.

Thinking it might be best to keep Gail and Erich separated too, she greeted Gail on the porch.

Gail met Bess’s less-than-enthusiastic good morning with a big hug. As if she was the one with reason to celebrate. Not like she’d come to construct a huge sham. “When Martin told me what happened, I was so happy for you. You don’t know what it’s taken for me to wait for a decent hour to call.”

Bess stiffened. Internally, she twisted, but outwardly she returned the hug, patting Gail’s shoulder.
Happy?
What exactly had Martin told her?
Blackmail wasn’t a cause for this much joy
.

Gail pulled back and sized up Bess with a scowl. “Dear. It’s nearly noon. Why are you still lounging around in your robe? After such a glorious event I’d think you and this Erich would be trying to contact Harry again.

So, Gail had been paying attention over the last year. Her prediction was good, but the picture she painted of the two of them trying to call forth Harry didn’t thrill Bess, it made her sad.

She only had to think about the man she’d spent the previous night and morning making love with to reconfirm her decisions. “There isn’t going to be a séance. I let excitement get the best of me last night. I’ve thought about it now and decided there is no need. Harry kept his word and showed me death was escapable, and I’m going to leave it at that.”

Gail’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes bulged. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know that wasn’t Harry’s intent.”

“He’d never want to be a part of some spiritualist spectacle. He loathed the thought.”

“Harry Houdini never shied from the spotlight.”

The truth. It should be a moving argument, but somehow it only proved Bess’s point. “In this, I know my husband’s heart. Please understand.”

“This is that Erich twisting and warping your mind. He’s arrogant and sly, that’s what Martin said. He thinks Erich and Harry could be brothers, if you only compared their egos.” Gail pushed past Bess and stomped into the kitchen.

Bess followed, wondering to herself how she arrived at this place. Only Gail and Martin would have the audacity to claim to know Harry better than her, yet somehow they were the two she’d allowed so close. She sobered, realizing just how much she’d accepted their influence.

Not finding Erich in the kitchen, Gail flipped her attention back to Bess. “Where is he? This spiritual virtuoso?”

Bess grabbed Gail’s arm, and kept her from crossing into the parlor. She’d had enough of the woman’s condescending attitude and wasn’t going to let her attack Erich, even if she had to twist the truth to get her out of her house. “He’s in bed, still recovering from his illness. Besides, none of this concerns Erich. It’s about me and my Harry.”

“So, you’re going to stand there and tell me Harry would rather celebrate his greatest escape ever in the privacy of this kitchen than on the stage with the whole world watching.”

She dug her heel into the floor. Gail could argue all she wanted. Bess knew she was right on this. “If he wanted the world to witness it, he’d have waited for the show.”

“You’re the one who said he liked to practice an act until you both knew it inside and out. You promised Martin you’d give me the glory of being the one. You owe me this. Harry owes me this!”

Harry was beloved by all, and what he said carried weight. If he believed Gail to be a fraud, by God, the free world now believed the same. Gail had a right to her pain and anger, but so had Harry. Bess, however, had no obligation to set right what had happened between the two of them. “I’m truly sorry. You’ve been a good friend to me this last year, despite what happened between you and Harry, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to disrespect his feelings and the gift he gave me. Especially not so that others can profit. It’s the last thing he would want.”

Gail lunged forward and gripped Bess’s shoulder. “You can’t think what Harry wants means a thing to me.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Bess lifted her eyes, looking over Gail’s shoulder to see Erich, wearing only his gray wool pants, standing in the doorway. His bare chest and the muscles of his arm rippled as he gripped the door jamb. A shining knight coming to her rescue again. No matter how loudly she protested, when she needed him, he was there.

Gail pivoted to the intruding voice. “What have you talked her into? I won’t allow you to save the spotlight for yourself.”

Erich compressed his lips, and the vein running down the side of his neck quivered, but — to his credit — he didn’t move forward. “The last thing I’m interested in is becoming part of some three ring circus that elevates you and degrades Bess. Why don’t you understand? This isn’t up to you or Martin. It’s Bess’s decision.”

Gail crossed her arms and pushed her right hip forward. “What right do you have to dictate what Bess does?”

“Every right,” Bess answered. The last thing she wanted was the people she felt the closest to arguing — especially over someone who wasn’t alive anymore. Erich was here though, and he deserved her loyalty. “Erich knows my heart. He’s the only one who’s made any kind of sense since Harry died.”

“So, is
that
the real story?” Gail asked. “What would Harry’s legions of fans think? You’re willing to let go of his will, because you’ve lain down with
that
drifter.”

Erich closed the distance between Gail and him with firm steps, stopping short of laying a hand on her. “You are no woman to speak of righteous or proper behavior. How Bess chooses to live from this day forward is no one’s business but hers. Not Harry’s fans. Least of all yours.”

Gail glared at Bess, but the tears cracking her voice said she was more hurt than angry. “This is how it’s going to be? After everything I’ve done for you, and all the help Martin’s given you, you’re going to cast us out because a virtual stranger told you to.”

“It’s not like that. Since Harry died, I’ve been listening to everyone
but
his will. When he sent me the message last night, it all came back into focus. I need to move forward. I’m going home. I’m going back to New York and the people who love and care about me.”

Gail’s mouth hung agape as the color drained from her face. “You are?”

“Yes. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”

As if Bess’s words had thrown Gail off balance, she shifted her weight to the opposite hip and crossed her arm in front of her chest. “I won’t stand for that.”

“You really don’t have a say in the matter,” Erich said, “and neither does your know-it-all husband or his faithful sidekick.”

The double assault from Bess and Erich rustled Gail’s feathers even more. She blinked her glossy eyes and whisked past Bess without another word. The screen door slammed. A moment later the sound of her wheels spinning in the drive, spitting up as many stones as she disheveled coming in, could be heard.

Erich’s jaw set as he paced to the window, watching as the car pulled away. “I wish you hadn’t told her we’re planning to leave.”

“What can she do?” Did it really matter if Gail was disappointed or angry? It ended there.

“I don’t think that bunch is going to let you or the séance go without a fight. It’s something they were willing to poison me over.”

Like a dog with a day-old soup bone, Erich refused to let go of the notion. “This again? You have no proof.”

His spun toward her and leaned back against the counter. “I trust my gut, and it’s telling me those three are up to no good. Your séance was only one step in a master-plan.”

“I think you have a vivid imagination.” Bess dug her heels in, ready for another argument; instead he walked the length of the counter and back like the caged tigers at the zoo. Something about channeling Harry had changed him, sharpened his focus.

Stopping in front of the window, he stared out a moment.  “Go pack a bag.”

“What? Why?”

He tapped his knuckles against the counter. “Damn. I wish I’d finished the brakes on the car. We’re leaving. Right away.”

“You want to go now?”

“This minute. Pack a bag. I’m going to go talk to Will, ask him to give us a ride to the train station and keep an eye on the place until we can get settled. We can come back to deal with the house after everything blows over.”

Bess reached for the back of the chair to steady herself.  He was pushing things too far too fast. “Just up and go? Right now?”

“I think it’s best.”

She shook her head and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “You’re over reacting, Erich.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“What are they going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Like you said, they have nothing over me if we don’t do the séance. They only have power if I try to recreate or fake something.” Still, Harry
had
come to her once. Maybe he’d do it again. Especially if Erich’s and her reputations were on the line. “What if we could do it for real? If Harry crossed the boundaries for me, he’d certainly be able to do it for his fans.”

Erich walked toward her, his head cocked and his posture soft. “Are you having second thoughts, Angel? Because you can’t call this off
for
me. You have to know in your heart it is the right thing to do.”

Bess looked away from him. Why was it so hard to let go of Harry? He’d kept his word and in the process set her free. Given how she’d spent the previous night and this morning, she should be able to let Harry rest in peace and give herself completely to Erich. Somehow it just wasn’t that easy.

His hands gripped her shoulders, and she knew Erich’s stare was bearing down on her, demanding an answer to his question. She gave herself over to his touch and the way he made her feel — calm and at peace. It was too soon after Harry had delivered his message of love and faith, too soon after meeting Erich, and even too soon after Harry’s death. She was his widow, and she was acting like a teenager, crushing on the gorgeous new man in town. How in the world had it come to this so fast? Was she really willing to pack a bag and run away?

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