Chapter 22
I awoke to the familiar smell of coffee and hot muffins and briefly thought that I was back in my apartment. But the absence of the hot, furry weight of Mardi, coupled with the throbbing pain in my leg, was an unpleasant reminder of why I wasn’t.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” came Jolene’s voice, along with the sound of rattling china, followed by the happy noise of coffee being poured into a cup.
My eyes shot open, focusing on the red of Jolene’s hair and then moving down to the steaming cup she held in front of her. “Mbmmmg.”
“She’s never coherent before she has her coffee,” Jolene said.
I shifted my gaze to see Mimi standing next to her and holding a plate with a muffin on it.
“Come help me sit her up,” Jolene said to a large silhouette standing behind Mimi that I thought could be Beau or Henry. Not that I was happy to see either one of them first thing, but I’d have preferred Beau over Henry, hands down.
“I’ll go find her brush,” Sarah said, coming into view. “Her hair looks like a rat’s nest.”
I recognized Beau’s scent before I saw his head looming over me as he and Jolene gently raised me to a sitting position and stacked pillows behind me, being careful to keep my leg elevated.
I heard the smile in Jolene’s voice. “You’re learning quickly, Sarah. A lot faster than your sister, although she does try, bless her heart.”
“Mbbbbbbbg,” I mumbled, reaching for the coffee and smiling my thanks to Mimi as she placed the muffin on the table by my chair.
They all watched as I sipped my coffee, waiting for some of the caffeine to reach my bloodstream.
“Where’s Mardi?” I said, my brain working hard to enunciate. I hadn’t had my second cup of coffee yet.
“Henry is allergic to dogs, I’m afraid,” Mimi said.
“Almost as allergic as he is to work,” Beau added.
“You hush now, Beau,” Mimi admonished. “Henry is my guest, and he’s asked that Mardi not stay here. I’m sure we can find someone to keep him for now. We’re keeping him in the kitchen, which he doesn’t seem to mind, and that’s a room Henry avoids.”
“There are lots of hotels in New Orleans,” Beau said. “I’m sure Henry would be comfortable in any one of them.”
“Now, Beau,” Mimi said, the softness of her tone doing nothing to mitigate the implied warning to behave.
“Mardi can come with me to Mississippi,” Jolene said. “He had so much fun on our last visit. He sure gave Daddy’s huntin’ dogs a run for their money. Although they did seem to mock him for his wardrobe choices, which I found ill-mannered.”
I wasn’t sure if she was serious. “Thanks, Jolene. But I would prefer to have him with me. I guess you could say he’s my emotional support animal.”
“I understand,” Mimi said. “Maybe if we keep Mardi in here and don’t let him anywhere else, Henry won’t mind.
” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Your color’s a lot better than yesterday, and that’s a good sign.
Camille will be here any minute now with your pain meds and a fresh pitcher of lemon-infused water. She thought you might like it.”
I didn’t enjoy lemon in my water, but it was nice of Camille. “I appreciate that.” I tried to move my foot and winced at the bolt of pain that shot up my leg. “And I’d like to hold off on the pain meds for now. I’m going to try to make it until the next dose.”
“That’s not recommended,” Camille said as she entered the room.
“Pain can contribute to stress and other negative emotional states, like anxiety. And unnecessary stress not only lowers your pain threshold but can also reduce pain tolerance and impact the immune system.” She looked around apologetically.
“Sorry. My mother was a nurse, so I picked up on a few things. Feel free to ignore me.” She placed the pitcher and pill bottles on the table before stepping back.
“Don’t be silly, Camille,” Mimi said. She picked up one of the bottles, then looked through the bottom of her bifocals to read the dosage before dumping two small blue pills on her palm. “You’ve been more than helpful, and I know Nola appreciates it as much as I do.”
Mimi handed me a glass of water with the two pills and watched as I took them. “Camille is making her mother’s chicken soup, and it smells divine. I hope there’s enough for me.”
Camille’s cheeks pinkened. “Of course, and if there isn’t I’ll just make more. But I made enough to feed a small army. Jolene said that Nola has a large appetite, so I made sure to double the recipe. Speaking of which, I need to go check on the stove.”
As soon as she left, Sarah sat down next to me on the bed. On the other side of the room, Mimi and Jolene were having a conversation with Beau about food for the post-funeral reception, allowing Sarah and me to have a private moment.
She reached up and snagged something from my chin. “Muffin crumbs. Has anyone ever told you that you eat like a toddler?”
“Many times,” I said. “And so do you.” I plucked a crumb from her cheek. “It must run in the family.”
She didn’t laugh or even smile.
“What’s up, Smatchen?” I asked, using the childhood nickname I’d bestowed on her and that I still used when she was acting like a small, irritable child.
“We’re not alone,” she whispered.
I knew better than to say that I knew Mimi, Beau, and Jolene were with us.
“Anyone I know?”
She gave a quick nod. “Beau’s grandfather. He hangs out mostly around his portrait in the foyer. He likes to keep an eye on his family. He’s a nice ghost.”
“Okay. Anyone else?”
Sarah didn’t respond right away. “There are a couple of spirits who are always around the doll. One is a nice lady who smiles a lot. She smells like Grandma Amelia, so I think she wears the same perfume.” She pressed her lips together tightly, like a person who’s afraid to say something out loud.
“And the other one?” I asked.
She wore a pinched expression, as if each word hurt as she spoke it. “He’s not a nice man.”
“Has he spoken to you?”
She gave a quick shake of her head, her face visibly paler.
“No. He’s very strong. And dark. I don’t want to open myself to him.
I think he wants to hurt people.” Her fear had thinned her voice, making it high-pitched and reedy.
“There’s a little boy here sometimes, too.
He wears old-fashioned clothes and a weird hat.
He’s the one who keeps moving the doll.”
I looked at her sharply. “Did he tell you why?”
“He doesn’t know. The man—the bad guy—wants to keep the doll hidden, which is why the boy keeps moving it even though the nice lady told him not to.
” She leaned closer, her voice so quiet that it almost disappeared.
“The doll is part of a big secret, and the other two don’t want anyone to know about it. ”
“Does he know what the secret is?”
“No. But the man really scares me. Please don’t make me stay here. I don’t want to go home yet, either. The little boy is stuck and needs my help.”
I sighed. “Is there anyone else?”
“Adele’s here,” whispered Sarah. “She’s really clear to me. Like, much better than before. I think because Beau and I are here together. And you know what Mom says when she and Jayne get together.”
“ ‘We’re stronger together,’ ” I said, repeating the mantra I’d heard Melanie and Aunt Jayne and their mother, Ginny, say whenever they joined forces to combat less-than-friendly ghosts.
“Is she saying anything?”
Sarah shook her head. “She’s waiting for Beau to notice her. He’s pretending that she’s not here, but he knows.” She was silent for a moment, as if listening to something—or someone—that I couldn’t hear. “Is Felicity upstairs?”
“I think so. She was up with me pretty late last night, so she’s probably still sleeping. Why?”
“When she and Beau and I are all together, everything is very…‘crisp,’ I think, is the word. Like, there’s a veil between us and the other place, and it’s sometimes pretty thick, but it wasn’t yesterday when we were all here.”
“I get that, except Felicity doesn’t have any psychic abilities. At least that’s what she says, and I believe her.”
Sarah shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t know.
” She looked at me intently. “But that’s why I don’t want to stay here.
The veil is very thin in this house. I think I make it too easy for the spirits to come through.
Both kinds of spirits.” Her eyes widened.
“I can’t help the little boy if I’m scared. And he really needs my help.”
A quick knock on the doorframe was followed by Christopher’s face peeking around the corner. “Are you okay with two more visitors?”
From the look on Jolene’s face, she would have preferred to have more time to make me presentable, and I needed more time to become coherent. “Just give us a moment…” I began.
“The more the merrier,” said Beau simultaneously.
Trevor held a large, almost-flat rectangular item inexpertly wrapped with newspaper and tied up with a shoestring that had a bow at the top.
Studying my bed head, Beau said, “Don’t be scared.
The accident wrecked more than just the car and her ankle. ”
Trevor let out a large snort of laughter but stopped when he caught Christopher’s expression.
I was glad that Jolene had removed the bandage from my forehead.
She’d said that the wound there was just superficial and that the bandage would impede her ability to apply makeup to my face.
At the very least, I wouldn’t scare Trevor.
The young boy approached the bed, holding out the package. “This is for you. I fixed it up all by myself.”
Christopher cleared his throat.
“Most of it,” Trevor amended. “Go on. Open it. I can help if you need me.”
“That would be great—thanks.”
He didn’t hesitate to rip into the newspaper, shredding it in three swipes and revealing a highly polished wooden backgammon board with intricate inlays around the edges, the triangles hand-painted and outlined with slivers of ivory.
“It’s stunning,” I said. “You did a beautiful job refinishing it.”