The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) (9 page)

“I did a load of laundry too.” His disembodied voice came from beside the stairs, but I couldn’t make him out at all.

“Logan, you don’t have to do my cooking or my cleaning.”

“It gives me something to do.”

I smiled in the direction I thought he was in. “I appreciate it. I can’t cook and I’m a shitty housekeeper.”

“There’s a way you can pay me back.”

“How?”

“Meet me again. Another midnight rendezvous?”

My heart warmed at the thought of another date with Logan. None of the usual stress applied. It wasn’t like a real date. It was more like meeting with Michelle. With no sexual expectations to get in the way, I could enjoy getting to know Logan for who he was—a sweet, thoughtful ghost and friend.

“I’d love to,” I said. I washed down the omelet with a swig of the coffee he’d made.

“Good,” Logan said in a pensive tone. “Because I have to talk to you about Prudence.”

I swallowed my coffee wrong and burst into a fit of coughing. “You sound serious,” I said between coughs. “Should I be worried?” Prudence scared me. The memory of her glowing torso still gave me goosebumps.

“No. Nothing to worry about. But it’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything tonight.”

“Sure.” Why would I worry? Prudence assaulted me and probably wanted me dead. Another day in paradise. I eyeballed my watch. “Shit, I’m going to be late.” I stood, lifting my plate from the counter.

“Leave that for me. Go ahead. Get outta here.”

“Thanks, Logan.” I grabbed my keys and took him up on his offer to clean up.

* * * * *

The hospital where I work is thirty minutes from Red Grove. I hopped into my Jeep and peeled out of the driveway, hoping I could still make my shift on time. The sight of Rick painting the cemetery fence shirtless had me slamming on the brakes before I could say “gonna be late.”

“I hoped I would catch you this morning,” Rick called, dropping the paintbrush into the pan at his feet and walking toward me. “Would you have dinner with me tonight?”

I was having trouble concentrating. The memory of my dream from that morning was fresh in my mind. My body responded just thinking about it.

Rick stopped a few feet from me and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Fast as the flutter of hummingbird wings, he was leaning in my window.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Move so quickly just now?”

“If I was quick, it was for good reason. A man should never keep a beautiful woman waiting.”

My cheeks blazed.

“Dinner tonight?” he asked again. He licked his full lips.

My mouth began to form the word
yes,
but I caught myself. “Um. Sorry, no. I can’t. I’m working late, and I have to catch up on some sleep.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re having trouble sleeping? I have some herbs—”

“No,” I said too quickly. I shook my head and smiled. “I’m fine, really. I’ve just been distracted with the move and everything. Haven’t got to bed at a decent hour.” Hell if I was going to invite another foot-stink bouquet into my residence.

He nodded, but the twist of his mouth told me he didn’t quite believe my excuse.

I couldn’t tell him about Logan. Not only would it potentially mark me as a lunatic, but I had a strong gut feeling that I shouldn’t. My intuition had never let me down before. “How about tomorrow night?” I countered.

“When can I expect you?”

“I get off at seven,” I said. “I can be there around eight.”

“Then eight it is.” The corner of his mouth lifted and for just a moment I sensed something. Call it premonition. I’d known this man and I would know him again. The feeling passed as quickly as it had come, and I realized I’d unconsciously leaned through the window and kissed him.

I removed my lips from his and smoothed my scrubs. “Sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Never apologize,
mi cielo
. Not for that.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t at all sure I agreed. I had a nasty habit of losing control with Rick. Visions of calling in sick so that I could show him exactly what I’d dreamed about played out in my head. My heart picked up its pace. All of my girl parts petitioned for amnesty from my brain as I silently repeated:
I need my job, I need my job
.

As if he could hear my thoughts, he raised an eyebrow and smiled wickedly. He stepped back from my Jeep. “See you tomorrow, Grateful,” he said.

I regained my composure and waved goodbye, then accelerated, hopelessly late for work.

Gary

S
t. John’s is a modern hospital with windows that take up the entire wall and big, airy spaces that defy the claustrophobic feel of older buildings. But the fact that you could see the parking lot from the hallway to the ICU did not bode well for concealing my lateness. Luckily, Michelle raced to meet me at the doublewide, automatic doors to my unit.

“I’ve been covering for you. You’re ten minutes late.” She grabbed my purse from me and tossed it into the break room where our lockers were without regard for the contents. “You have three-oh-three and three-oh-four, cardiac arrest and pneumonia. Vitals are normal. You’ve been at the blood bank for three-oh-three.”

The last word was barely out of her mouth when my boss, Kathleen, rounded the corner and met my eyes.

“Where’ve you been, Grateful?” she asked. Her lips pulled into a stern line.

“At the blood bank for three-oh-three. I forgot the type and match and had to come back up.”

“I must have missed you when you came in,” she said. Her voice held a hint of skepticism.

“I got report from uh…” I cleared my throat. I had no idea who had my rooms before me.

“Megan. Wasn’t it Megan I saw you with this morning?” Michelle filled in.

“Yes, Megan,” I followed. “Had to get started right away. Sorry I missed you.”

Kathleen nodded curtly and rushed off to her next victim.

“I owe you one, Michelle.”

We walked side by side toward our rooms.

“You can pay me back after work today by coming with me to check out a patient on neuro. Maureen asked me to stop over.”

“Sorry, hon. Can’t today. I have a date.”

“With who?”

I stopped myself. I couldn’t tell Michelle about Logan. Not only would she not believe me, but she might go all mental-health-nurse on me. If I didn’t want to end up on Haldol, I figured Logan needed to stay my little secret. “With me.”

“What?”

“Listen, I’ve been totally stressed lately. I just want to paint my toes and go to bed early, you know?”

“Totally. Totally get it. How about tomorrow night?”

I adjusted a box of latex gloves on the counter, unable to look Michelle in the eye. “I have a date.”

“Another date with your toes?”

“No, a real date.”

“With who?”

“My new neighbor, Rick. I had a date with him yesterday. I think we hit it off.” Boy, was that the understatement of the year, but telling Michelle he’d gotten me off on the first date was an equally bad idea to telling her about Logan. I wasn’t proud to be hiding things from my best friend, but my life was a little weird right now. I’d be straight with her once I got a grip on things.

“What’s wrong with him?”

I gasped and gave her an appalled stare. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Are you forgetting the blonde paradox? Fast to come is fast to go.”

“I’m not forgetting, but he’s perfectly normal. I have a good feeling about this relationship. We seem destined somehow.”

“You’ve known him for like three days.”

“I know. Well, four if you count today.”

Michelle did not look impressed. She rolled her eyes and made a raspberry sound with her lips. “Call me when you need ice cream therapy,” she said.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She gave me a firm hug. “I’m confident in you, but not so much in the opposite sex.”

Judging by my disastrous relationship with Gary, I couldn’t say she was wrong.

The intensive care unit was busy that day, and I found myself swept away in a routine of assessments and medication administration. Nursing is beautiful that way. It’s impossible to think about your own problems when you’re wrapped up in someone else’s. The day flew by. Before I knew it, I was relieved by the night nurse and passing through the fishbowl hallway to get to the elevator. I paused and looked over the parking lot, enjoying the colors of fall twilight painted across the sky. The scene was so beautiful, I stepped toward the glass, taking in the sunset and allowing myself to unwind. I scanned the rows of cars, reflexively trying to pick mine out of the pack.

I found it—and something else I wasn’t expecting. There was a man standing next to my car; a man who looked a whole lot like Gary.

I beat feet to the end of the hallway then down the stairwell because I didn’t want to wait for the elevator. Exploding out the side exit into the parking lot, I raced toward my Jeep, having no idea what I would do if it really was Gary. What would I say? I didn’t have a block of knives to back me up.

My Jeep waited for me in the third row where I left it. No one was there. I even squatted to look underneath. Shaking my head, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and reached for the door. The stench of Gary’s cologne wafted over me and I whipped around. Nothing.

I climbed behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life. Stupid Gary. Stealing my money wasn’t enough; now he wanted the car too? If it
was
him, he’d better hope I never caught him near my stuff again, or there was a very real possibility I’d make him disappear again, permanently.

Logan

“D
on’t you remember anything about your life at all?” I asked.

Logan sat across from me at the dining room table, watching me eat a late dinner he’d prepared. It was some sort of chicken dish that melted in my mouth and tasted of butter and fresh herbs. He’d insisted, and I couldn’t refuse. But since I was chewing, I needed him to carry the conversation, a hard task for someone without a past.

“I see bits and pieces sometimes. I know things about eating. Like how to cook and what wine goes with what dessert. I think I liked motorcycles. Everything…all my memories are loose inside my head. I can’t connect them logically.”

Part of me could relate. Some days I didn’t know who I was either. The arc of my life just seemed to happen with no driving force behind it, as if I were going along with a script rather than meeting it head on. Part of it I could blame on being in my early twenties, but the rest was all me.

“In an odd way, I can empathize,” I said. “I may know my name, but sometimes I wonder if I will ever understand who I really am.” The words surprised me as they poured out of my mouth. What was it about Logan that made me share the most intimate details of my life with him?

“I have a vague sense that I was lonely when I was alive. There’s a hollowness at the center of me. I don’t remember what my life was like, but something about me seems disconnected. It’s hard to explain.”

I rubbed a circle over my sternum with my palm. I could relate to that too. “Gary did that to me. Maybe you had a similar situation before you, um, died.”

Logan’s despondent eyes fixated on his interlaced fingers. “I wish I remembered.”

“I wish I could forget.”

Glowing green eyes met mine. Logan and I had a moment of connection, a communion of thoughts that conveyed a mutual desire to comfort, although no words were said. I reached forward to place my hand over his, and my flesh sank through him. A tingling pressure eased over my skin until my palm hit the table.

“Oh. Sorry.” I retracted my fingers.

He shrugged awkwardly. The room fell silent. I ate the last bite off my plate.

“Would you like to play a game?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, brightening in his chair. “What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a pool table downstairs. Eight ball?”