Page 38 of The Guests on South Battery
“I do. That’s why I asked for your help with Veronica. Because wearestronger together.”
I focused on the cat, as if it might put the words in my mouth that I needed. “Mother, whatever spirit came through you this morning is not a nice one and I’d be happy if I never heard from it again. I’m only involved with this one because of a real estate client. I didn’t go seeking it out.”
I took a step toward the house, but she remained where she was, her eyes studying something in an upstairs window. I followed her gaze and saw the image of a young girl in a white nightgown, her long blond hair tucked behind her ears, staring back at us.
“Do you see her?” I asked quietly.
“No. But I sense her.” She turned to me with troubled eyes. “But you’re seeing her now?”
“Yes,” I said with surprise. “I think I’ve seen glimpses of her nightgown, but this is the first apparition.”
“It could be Button’s niece,” she said. “Hasell. She died at the hospital, but she spent most of her life inside this house. It would make sense that she’d return to it.”
“But she’s a child. Why would she be sticking around?” Our eyes met.
“Unfinished business. Just because she was a child when she passed doesn’t mean that there weren’t things left incomplete.”
I looked back up, surprised to see the girl still in the window. “Her mother died in the house. Did you know that?”
Ginette shook her head. “No. I’d already left Charleston by then and wasn’t in touch with anybody who would have told me.”
“And she was buried in Aiken, and not at Magnolia, where Hasell and Hasell’s father are buried.”
“Sumter,” she said, her voice very low. “I remember Sumter. I had such a schoolgirl’s crush on him when Button and I were in high school.”
“Then help me, Mother. Help me figure this out. Help me to help Hasell.”
She faced me again. “That will depend, Mellie. Will you help me with Veronica? I think that would be fair, don’t you?”
I looked back up at the window just as a dark shadow appeared behind the girl and an arm grabbed her around the shoulders, pulling her out of sight. I blinked, wondering if I’d imagined it just as I had when I was a little girl and thought I’d seen a caped figure in my closet. I sucked in my breath. “All right. You win. But I’m not going to be the one to tell Dad.”
She didn’t seem to be listening. I followed her gaze back to the window, where the girl had been but where a cat was now perched on the sill, watching us closely until something startled it from behind and it leaped back, disappearing from sight.
CHAPTER 13
Isat up in bed with General Lee at my feet, my phone in one hand, my laptop on one knee and my iPad on the other, trying to reconcile the various spreadsheets and calendars I used to plan my days. What would normally have been a ten-minute task was taking twice as long because of a certain husband intent on nuzzling my neck.
“Don’t you need to work on any to-do lists or plans for tomorrow and the rest of the week?” I asked.
He blew warm air into my ear, making me shudder with anticipation. Without raising his head, he said, “I have an appointment at the Charleston Museum archives tomorrow at ten and then I thought I’d come home and have lunch with the twins and give Jayne a break before heading into my office to work a little bit on my new story idea.”
I pulled back to look at him. “I thought you went to the archives this morning.”
His tongue began a slow lapping around my ear and I had to practice my Lamaze breathing so that I wouldn’t scream at the torture. “I did. But they have a new person in charge now and he’s a guy. And apparently somebody who believes in calendars and rules and appointments. You’d probably like him.”
“I probably would. Should we invite him to dinner sometime?”
He lifted his head and frowned at me. “No.” His gaze traveled to my electronic gadgets, then back up to me. “It’s time to turn these off, I think,” he said as he reached for my iPhone.
I held it away from him. “Hang on—I’m almost done. You know how boneless I get after we, um, well, you know, so I have to do this now while my brain is still functioning.” I squinted down at my laptop. “Either something’s wrong here and it’s not syncing properly or Jayne isn’t being consistent with updating the spreadsheets for the twins.”
In a move like a stealthy panther, Jack sprawled across me and reached into my nightstand drawer. “Mellie, didn’t your grandmother ever tell you that squinting is going to give you wrinkles?” He dumped my reading glasses into my lap, then returned to his nuzzling. “Maybe this will make you get your work done faster so we can play.”
I placed the glasses on my nose and mentally slapped down all my nerve endings and brain cells that were reaching for Jack. “But seriously, what if she’s not doing the spreadsheets? And I don’t think she’s labeled their drawers yet, either.”
With a heavy sigh, Jack straightened and plumped a pillow behind his head so he could sit up against the headboard. “Whether she did so or not, she’s spent countless hours playing with them, taking them for walks, reading to them, singing to them, making them laugh. The sorts of things we do with them when we’re here. I’d rather my children be happy than organized.”
The word “blasphemy” came to my tongue, but I bit it back. Because somewhere, deep down, I realized that he might be right. “Still,” I said, “I think she should discuss with us if she wants to change something.”
