Page 53 of Ghostly
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “He’s very successful, indeed.”
“It feels good, doesn’t it? The desire for revenge?” Ida said. “Not good in a way eating chocolate or tilting your face to the sun does, but it feels satisfying. Fiery. It gives you a certain energy.”
“I suppose it does.”
“I know I try to appear to all the world—well, to you—like a normal person. But I’m not. I…” Ida stood. “What I turned into, the years and decades after my death—that wasn’t me, wasn’t human. It was anger, rage, pure unadulterated vengeance. I thought once I got my revenge, made my family’s life as miserable as I could, I’d leave. Dissolve. Get peace. But I didn’t. Harry died, passed through, and I was still stuck here.” She gazed up, as if trying to fight back tears. “I don’t like what I turned into. I don’t know where that darkness came from, and it’s terrifying.”
“But you’re not like that anymore.”
“I’m still a ghost. I’m still here.”
“Human doesn’t necessarily mean a life state. You still have feelings. Regrets. You’re worried about what you’ve done, and would do anything to not let it happen again. You flicked away before your anger got out of control. You care about our neighbors getting along. You were so worried about that girl in that TV drama the other day—”
“She almost died, and the doctors were busy doing their thing in the closet!” Ida set her hands against her hips.
Gabriel smiled, part at the memory, part at her reaction. “See. You’re more human than half the lawyers I know.”
Ida’s face softened. “You think so?”
“I do,” he said with utmost honesty.
Ida jumped, as if she remembered something, and headed for the bookcase. Her face tensed as she reached for a book and slowly lifted it off the shelf, and shakily transferred it to the coffee table. Ida sat next to Gabriel,focused again, and stretched her hand toward the book. Her fingers hovered above the cover, and then—
She gently opened the book.
A bubble of laughter escaped her, and she looked at Gabriel.
“What did you do?”
“I focused. I tried opening it like a human would.”
“Haunting is far more efficient than normal reading,” he said, his tone light.
“Yes, but maybe it’s time to bring back some of my old practices.” She leaned back on the sofa. “It does take a lot of focus, though, to do such precise work. Maybe you should get me something shorter. I picture book, to begin with.”
Gabriel laughed. “Whatever you wish, it shall be done.” Even though Marge would look at him suspiciously when he turned up at the library, requesting children’s literature.
Ida smiled at him. “You look horrible. Your hair’s all messy.”
Worrying about someone will do that to you.
“It’s getting long, too. You should put it in a man bun.”
“A what?”
“A knot. At the back of the head.” Ida waved her hand around the area on her head. “I don’t know why they need to add ‘man’ to it, it’s just a normal bun, but I think it would look good on you.”
“Too much time in the deer-hog for you.” Gabriel rose. “I’m gonna get some coffee.”
“Sixth time today?”
“Actually, first.” He paused halfway to the kitchen. “I was worried about you, so I… I need to make up for the withdrawal.”
A light swishing of pages came from the living room while Gabriel prepared his coffee. A made-up melody snuck into his head, and he started humming it. One, two, three, four, five, six, coffee done. He poured two cups and headed for the living room, then stopped dead in his tracks.
He looked at his hands. Two cups. And that wasn’t for himself. He was bringing coffee to Ida.
He was bringing coffee to Ida.
