Chapter 17: An Unexpected Guest
As always the house was immaculate. A few of the smaller pieces had been moved, and I knew this to be a result of Phil's ongoing attempts to find just the right homes for everything. I knew he had recently found a new side table that was perfect for a neglected corner, and true to form, the inclusion of a new piece of furniture required the subtle adjustment of everything else in the room. I smiled to myself at this thought, and It made me love him more.
Suddenly Miss McFierceson swept into the room in all her fabulous flamboyance. “There you are, my dear.” She offered a soft peck on the cheek . “Right on time. Ooh, is that for tonight?” She noticed the wine and offered a cheeky smile. “It's a good thing I didn't invite Helmut,” she added with a wink. “Do come in. I've made your favorite, chicken with rice and gravy, and some lovely asparagus. It's just come out of the oven. Come in and chat with me while I prepare it to serve.”
This wasn't really my favorite, but I certainly enjoyed just about anything she made, she was a marvelous cook. I followed her into the kitchen, protesting, “No need for serving dishes, it's family night, right? Just you and me.”
“Well, yes,” she conceded, “But I want you to feel special tonight, after all you've been through.”
“Nothing could make me feel more special than having a quiet dinner with my adopted dad in the kitchen. No need to put on airs.”
“But I've already set the dining room table,” she protested. “And I got out the good dishes.”
“Then we'll compromise,” I suggested. “We'll use the fine china, but eat in the kitchen like family. Deal?”
“You are such a sweet boy, and such a diplomat,” she smiled. “Alright, you set the table, and I'll open the wine.”
The small breakfast table was plenty big enough for the two of us, especially when I insisted that the food could stay on the counter and we could serve ourselves form the cooking pots. She asked about Ben and wanted to know how I was finding the new cottage. I refrained from telling her about about hearing the ghost, especially since I wasn't really sure if I actually had heard anything or if it was just a dream.
During dinner the aroma of fresh blueberry pie slowly filled the kitchen, and just before we finished a timer went off, prompting her to pull the home made confection that had been cooking as we ate out of the oven and set it aside to cool. “For later,” she said conspiratorially, sitting down to finish her meal. Once we had finished eating she suggested that we take our wine onto the front porch while we waited for the pie to cool.
And so we found ourselves sitting in the generous rockers just outside the living room windows, watching the sleepy town draw itself in for the night, the bits of sea that were normally visible, fading into the deep velvety darkness that was spreading itself over everything in sight. The occasional neighbor nodded or smiled at us as they passed, but the street was quiet now that the students were gone for the summer, and the tourists hadn't really started to arrive in earnest yet. The town seemed to revel in this lull, and we certainly were enjoying the peace it offered.
As with Ben, neither of us felt obliged to fill the evening with words, but allowed ourselves to rest in the comfortable silence that long familiarity allows. I remembered the night I shared some lemonade out here with Andi, the older woman who used to occupy the room beside Phil's before she moved west to be with her children. I don't know what made me think of it, but the thought prompted me to break the silence. “Have you heard from Andi lately? How is she?”
Miss McFierceson didn't answer immediately, but shifted slightly before drawing a long breath and saying, “Yes, I have news from Andi.” I waited for her to continue, and when she hesitated I turned to face her and found she was staring at the floor.
“What is it?” I asked concerned.
“She...ummm...Andi passed about a week ago. I'm not sure of the exact day, but...”
“She died?' I asked bluntly. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I'm telling you now,” she replied with a twinge of regret in her eyes. “You've had so much going on, I thought it best to wait until...Well, I didn't want to burden you with more sad news.”
Part of me wanted to get angry, but I could see her point. There hadn't really been a good time for such news over the last week. “When did they call to let you know?” I asked, assuming that one of her children had made contact to pass on the news.
“They didn't,” she said. “ I haven't heard from any of them.”
“You saw her obituary on-line?” I offered.
“No.” Her simple reply left me puzzled.
“Then how do you know she passed?” I asked in confusion.
Again she hesitated and I could see she was searching for a way to explain. Then looking up she steeled herself and said, “She told me herself.”
I didn't quite understand. “Who?” I asked, trying to follow her logic. “Who told you?”
“Andi.” She waited a moment to let this sink in.
“Andi?” I said in disbelief. “Andi told you she died?”
“Yes.” Again, she allowed me time to digest this news before continuing. “You've been remembering her tonight haven't you? That's why you asked about her. She wanted you to know, and Ben, whenever he's ready for the news. She loved you both very much and is quite pissed off at her family for failing to tell us of her passing.”
“How do you...? What?”
“She wanted you to know,” she repeated. “That's why I invited you here tonight. The time just felt right.”
“But how do you know what she wanted?”
“She told me.”
I looked at Miss M. and wondered if she was beginning to crack. I had had plenty of experience with spirits, but they were always historical, distant, somehow disconnected from my life. But Andi, she was real. She had been close and I cared about her deeply.
“Did she...Have you seen her?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.
“Yes.”
“Here? In this house?”
“Yes,” she chuckled. “Of course, where else?”
Is she still...Has she moved on? I mean you only saw her the once, right?”
Miss M. gave me an indulgent smile. “She's sitting in the chair beside you right now. And that chill you feel is her hand on yours.”
I pulled my hand off the arm of my chair without thinking and turned to look at the chair beside me, but it was empty. “I don't...”
“Of course not,” Miss M. soothed. “She didn't want to startle you or cause you any distress, but she has been with us all night,”
I realized I wasn't breathing, and let out a long sigh. I loved Andi too, and knew I had nothing to fear from her. She was no lurking ghoul or murderous shadow, she was a gifted psychic who had helped Ben and I in the past as we faced those evil forces. I reconsidered the chair beside me and put my hand down where its occupant could reach it. “Andi, If you can hear me, I hope you are at peace.” The chill returned to my hand, and I caught the faintest glimmer of a dim light as the empty chair began to gently rock on its own.
Miss M. smiled broadly. “That's more like it,” she cooed, taking a final sip from her nearly empty wine glass. “And I'll bet that pie is cool enough to be just right. Do you want ice cream on yours?”
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