Page 1 of Shared By Her Brother's Best Friends

Chapter 1

Emma

My husband’s ghost haunts me.

Not literally, of course, I don’t believe in all that supernatural stuff, there’s enough evil in this world without worrying about the dead. But still, four years after Adam’s death, I feel as though he might breeze through the door at any moment, reeking of booze and cursing about the lack of food on the table, despite the fact that he’s the one who spends all our money on gambling.

It’s crazy. Paranoid. My son Max and I moved back home to Oklahoma following his death. Our house in San Diego no longer felt like the dream home I’d wished for and the thought of raising a two-year-old completely alone terrifiedme. It didn’t take much persuasion from my brother Jacob to decide to come home. So, logically, there’s no reason why I should feel Adam’s presence, he never lived in this apartment with me and Max. Sometimes I swear I see him, on my drive to work, heading into a gas station, walking down the street, but each time the apparition is gone as quickly as it arrived, leaving nothing behind or perhaps a baffled stranger who resembles him, his sauntering walk, his sneering laugh, his blond golden-boy hair.

I can rationalize away these feelings, but the problem is, they seem to be impacting on Max. Not only is he adamant that his daddy visits him, but lately he’s described seeing strange people too. I’m confident they’re nightmares, but I want to get a professional opinion on how to handle the situation.

“Where are we going Mommy?” he asks me from the back of the car.

“We’re going to see a doctor,” I reply, keeping my voice light.

“Are you sick?” he asks worriedly, his brow furrowed.

“No. Mommy’s fine. The doctor just needs to see you for a checkup,” I reply calmly, my gaze again darting back at him in the mirror.

“But I’m not sick. I don’t have a tummy ache or anything,” he replies, wrinkling his nose.

“I know sweetie, but sometimes we have to visit the doctor just to make sure everything is okay,” I reassure him.

I’m not sure that visiting a child psychiatrist is right for him, but my friend Sally from work convinced me. Despite Max’s young age when his father died, his loss could still be impacting him, she explained.

Once we arrive at the doctor’s office, the psychiatrist gives Max some crayons and paper and he eagerly begins drawing away with in the corner while I explain as best I can my concerns. He nods as he listens, his face impassive, giving nothing away. When I’m done, he goes over to talk to Max, asking him questions about his drawings and other generic ones to make him feel comfortable.

“Is that you and your dad?” he asks gently, pointing to the picture Max is drawing.

Max nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh.”

“And what’s he holding?”

“A big teddy and some candy that he won for me at the fair,” he declares proudly.

“Max, what have I told you about telling lies?” I chastise. “My friend who babysits him, Jessica, took him to the fair recently,” I explain.

“No! It was Daddy!” he scowls.

The psychiatrist holds up a hand to silence me, lightly shaking his head. He proceeds to question Max further, asking him to describe his father’s appearance. The description is uncanny, he was too young to have any real memories of Adam, but Max has seen photographs of his father which probably explains it.

“Now Max, do you know what dead means?” the psychiatrist asks gently.

Max nods confidently. “Yes. My daddy’s dead. It means he can’t come back and live with us because he had to go far, far away. Our hamster Hammy died too, he’s in Heaven.”

“Is that where your daddy is?”

“Sometimes,” Max replies.

“Your mom tells me that your daddy’s friends came to see you too, can you tell me about that?”

Now Max looks scared, and my heart breaks a little.

“Don’t wanna.”

“It’s okay, they can’t hurt you. You’re safe here,” the doctor soothes.

“I don’t like them. They’re scary and have no faces…”

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