Page 38 of Ghostly
Gabriel was going to leave.
He didn’t like being here—he missed work, he hated nature; now, on top of everything, he had to take care of a dog. And her. She’d forced this contract on him. This woman, his fancy apartment—that was his real life. And it should be understandable, and fine, but it wasn’t. She didn’t want him to leave.
Her half-scream, half-weep shook the cyber-reality around her.Don’t dothis. Don’t turn into your old self again.But she couldn’t stop; she screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and websites flickered and shattered like glass.
A sound from the outside brought her back to her senses. Good god, what had she done? The dog website had closed; but she opened it again, and all was well. She hadn’t done any damage.
Then she noticed the pop-up. Wynona’s messages were gone. Had she deleted them?
Oh, no, no.
She popped out of the laptop. Maybe this would be easier to sort out without her haunting it.
Gabriel shook off his coat in the hallway and stepped into the living room, Rosalie in tow.
Ida collected herself. “You look glum.”
“She peed,” Gabriel said, unimpressed.
“That’s what dogs do.”
“She peed on my shoe.”
Under normal circumstances, Ida would’ve laughed at that—especially with Gabriel’s annoyed expression—but the words from the message were still blinking in her head. She remembered everything she found out by haunting; she could repeat those three messages from Wynona word by word.
And Gabriel would leave.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel’s annoyance changed to worry. “I thought you’d laugh.”
Just like her alive-self knew the words the monster in her brain whispered to her weren’t real, weren’t sensible, ghost-Ida knew her thoughts were wrong. It was wrong to think anything of that almost-kiss, wrong to want Gabriel here when he should be somewhere else.
But just like she’d never been able to ignore the monster, she couldn’t ignore these thoughts, either.
“I…” she glanced at the computer and back at Gabriel. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll watch over Rosalie? I’m certain she can sense me.”
Gabriel nodded and headed back to the hallway. At the last moment, he leaned back through the doorway. “By the way, find anything useful?”
“Not—nothing much. I think I accidentally crashed the website.”
“That’s okay. I can check it later.”
And then he was gone, and Ida asked Rosalie if she could keep still for about five minutes or so, as she went to haunt the deer statue and figuratively hit herself on the head.
***
Surprisingly, Gabriel survived the next two days with only one scratch on his arm and a chewed shoe. Once Rosalie got accustomed to him, she followed him everywhere. She’d be outside his bedroom door when he woke up; the tip-tapping of her tiny, fuzzy feet would follow him downstairs, like a dribble of rain on the roof. While he brewed coffee, she sat promptly and wiggled her tail. When he moved to the dining table, she went right along with him.
He caught Ida smiling a few times and brushed off her remarks of Rosalie being taken with him. But other times, he’d see a shadow pass Ida’s face, like she momentarily remembered something bad. He told her she had no reason to be jealous of the dog picking him over her—Rosalie followed whoever had the food or toys, and obviously, that would be Gabriel, but it didn’t seem to help.
One afternoon, he made a video call to Ollie to finalize his research for Jacobsky’s case and check how his paralegal was doing. Ollie could be agreat big bundle of nerves sometimes, and by now, Gabriel had figured out efficient methods to get him back in tow.
“I do have Jacobsky’s report somewhere here…” Ollie stared down from the camera as he searched his computer. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Vane. I’ll find it right away.”
“Take it easy, Ollie. Six breaths, remember? Sort the folders by date…”
“Yes, sir.” Ollie ran a hand through his hair, leaving a few curls sticking up like springs. “It’s not that—well, it’s just—Mrs. Ashford-Abernathy is back again. She’s divorcing from her sixth husband and wants our services.”
Gabriel startled, almost throwing the laptop off his lap.
