Ghostly Interests (9 page)

“I grew up in this house,” Nina said, glancing around the immaculate farmhouse fondly. “I stayed here until I was eighteen and then I left when I got married.”

“How did you end up back here?”

“I inherited the house when my mother died,” Nina explained. “I thought about selling it. We had a nice house on Plum Street downtown. It was a corner lot and everything. I loved this house, though, and the idea of selling it gutted me.”

Harper nodded sympathetically. She’d never formed attachments to homes, but she could see why some people did.

“I talked my husband into moving out here even though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea,” Nina said. “He finally relented because he thought it would be a great place to raise kids. We don’t have to worry about traffic or them being grabbed off the street.”

“That’s good,” Harper said, hoping to encourage Nina’s story along.

“If we don’t get rid of this ghost my husband is going to leave me,” Nina said. “He’s already demanding we move back to town. I don’t want to give up my house.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to handle the situation,” Harper said. “We’ve done this numerous times. We need to get a feel for the spirit. When was the first time you noticed it?”

“Well, we moved into the house a year ago,” Nina said, tilting her head to the side. “I guess it was our third night here when we heard noises. We chalked it up to old pipes, but it kept happening. The noises were bad, but we could mostly ignore them. It was when other things started happening that Ted – that’s my husband – started making noises about moving. I’ve been able to put him off until now, but after yesterday … .”

“What other things started happening?”

“Things moved,” Nina said. “I never saw them move at first. It started with simple things. I would put my glasses down on the end table and when I would come back they would be on the coffee table. I honestly thought I was doing it myself and forgetting, but then one day I put a book down on the couch and when I came back it was on the bookshelf.”

“That’s weird,” Harper said. “What else?”

“One morning I came downstairs and all of my dishes were rearranged,” Nina replied. “They were moved from the cupboards I had them in to the cupboards my mother used to have them in.”

“Do you think this ghost knew how your mother did things?”

“Absolutely,” Nina said, nodding. “I could put up with most of this but Ted, well, he’s starting to freak out.”

“What happened to Ted yesterday?”

“He was taking a shower and when he got out the mirror was all fogged up and … well … someone wrote a message in the fog.”

“What did it say?” Harper was intrigued.

“Um … basically it told him to go on a diet.” Nina looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry?”

“It said ‘lose some weight, fat ass,’” Nina said.

Harper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. “Is your husband fat?”

“He’s not fat,” Nina said. “He has packed on a few pounds in the last year. All the ghost stuff is making him stress eat. I don’t blame him.”

Harper didn’t either. “Who do you think the ghost is? Is it an old family member? Do you have any ideas?”

“Oh, I know exactly who it is,” Nina said. “She’s been leaving me messages, too. She writes them on the chalkboard in the kitchen when she’s bored.”

“Who is it?”

“My mother.”

Harper frowned, realization washing over her. “Oh.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Nina said, lowering her eyes. “You think I should be grateful to still have a part of my mother left and not want to see her go.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.”

Nina ignored Harper’s statement. “I loved my mother. I did. I still do, don’t get me wrong. She’s just so … harsh.”

“What kind of messages is she leaving you?” Harper asked, her mind wandering to what a nightmare it would be to have her own mother haunting her. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought.

“Oh, you know, ‘your dress is too low cut,’ ‘your children should behave better,’ ‘your husband is a dildo.’ Basic stuff like that.”

Harper swallowed the mad urge to laugh. She was starting to like this ghost. “What’s your mother’s name?”

“Matilda.”

“Can you think of any reason she would have remained behind instead of passing over?” Harper asked.

Nina’s face was blank. “What do you mean?”

“Most people want to pass over when they die,” Harper explained. “The ones who stayed behind are usually jerked out of a life they weren’t ready to leave. Did your mother die in a surprise accident? Was she … murdered?”

“Oh, nothing like that,” Nina said. “She had cancer. She knew she was dying for two years.”

“Why did she stay?”

“She lived to nag,” Nina said. “She once told me she wouldn’t leave this Earth until I finally grew a brain and picked a better husband. I didn’t know she was being literal when she said it. I know my mother hates Ted, but … well … I love him.

“He’s not a perfect husband, but he is a wonderful man and great father,” she continued. “No one is perfect.”

“No,” Harper agreed.

“I love my mother, but I’m ready to let her go,” Nina said. “Just once I would like to wake up in the morning and not find my thongs in the garbage can.”

“I … what?” Harper was confused.

“She thought only prostitutes and burlesque dancers wore thongs.”

“Oh,” Harper said, wishing Zander had been present for this intake interview. “Well … I’m sure we can handle this and probably pretty quickly. Do you know where your mother’s spirit usually hangs out during the day?”

“In the greenhouse,” Nina said. “That was her favorite place and she had a whole garden in there. She’s really mad at the way I let it go so she’s started cleaning it up herself. I’m sorry. I know she loved the building. I don’t like dirt, though.”

Harper could sympathize with that. “I’m on it. We’ll get this handled today.”

“Good,” Nina said, exhaling heavily. “If Mom gooses Ted with invisible hands one more time he’s going to have a heart attack – or a meltdown. Nobody wants that.”

“THIS
could be the best ghost ever,” Zander said, moving next to Harper in the center of the greenhouse. “She writes derogatory messages to her son-in-law. She moves dishes back to the way she likes them. She calls her grandkids brats. She’s awesome.”

“Imagine living with your mother’s spirit after she passes on,” Harper prodded.

“Oh, my mother is never going to die,” Zander said. “She can’t. I won’t allow it.”

As much as he complained about his mother and her antics Zander was dedicated to the woman who gave him life. He really would be lost without her. Harper, on the other hand, loved her mother but found it easier to do from a distance. “You’re right,” she said. “Your mother is going to live forever.”

“Like
Fame
,” Zander said, a faraway look on his face.

“I was thinking more like
Highlander
.”

“I can live with that,” Zander said. “I’m not thrilled with all the head chopping in that series, though.”

“Movies,” Harper corrected.

“The series was better,” Zander argued. “The actors were hotter.”

“Sean Connery is the king of hot.”

“He’s old.”

“He’s still hot,” Harper argued.

“Is he as hot as the new cop?” Zander asked, shifting the conversation to a subject he was dying to talk about.

“What is your fascination with Jared Monroe?” Harper asked, irritated.

“I think you like him.”

“I think I hate him,” Harper said. “Did I tell you what he said to me last night?” Harper didn’t give Zander a chance to respond. Instead she launched into a righteous diatribe.

“I’ve heard all of this,” Zander said, cutting Harper off before she could get a full head of steam. “Actually, to be fair, this would’ve been the third time I had to listen to it. I’m not doing it again.”

“He’s an ass.”

“He might be,” Zander conceded. “He also might be a guy who has never experienced anything paranormal so he can’t wrap his brain around it. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

“I think he is,” Harper said. “He talked down to me.”

“I talk down to you all of the time,” Zander pointed out.

“I don’t like it then either.”

“You don’t usually take it so personally,” Zander said. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Nope.” Harper shifted her gaze from her best friend to the door of the greenhouse. “Are Molly and Eric in place?”

Zander ignored the question. “I think you like him.”

“I already told you that I hate him.”

“Fine, maybe you don’t like him,” Zander said. “I think you’re attracted to him, though.”

Harper snorted. “Whatever. He’s not appealing to me in the slightest.”

Zander didn’t believe her. “Really? You don’t want to see if his body is as hard as it looks under those shirts he wears? Or if his jeans really are covering up the world’s best rear end? You don’t like those blue eyes of his and the way they pop out against all that dark hair he has? You don’t want to run your hand over that stubbled chin of his?”

“I see you’ve given this some thought,” Harper said, nonplussed.

“He’s hot.”

“I don’t think he plays for your team.”

“He doesn’t,” Zander said. “Do you know how I know? Every time I’m checking him out he’s checking you out – and that includes last night because I was watching you when you didn’t know it.”

“You were spying on me?”

“I was watching the two of you interact,” Zander corrected. “I’m allowed. I’m your best friend. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

“It’s your job to feed me ice cream when I have PMS.”

“I do that, too.”

Harper couldn’t argue because he was telling the truth. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“I think you’re pretending nothing is there when there might be a little something there,” Zander countered.

“Whatever.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Zander warned. “For now, though, I’m going to let it go because we have a job to do.”

“Great,” Harper said sarcastically.

“We’re going to talk about your tone, too.”

“Fine,” Harper said. “Do you want to get into position or are you going to imagine a few more boyfriends for me?”

“I’m not imagining it,” Zander said, but he was already striding toward the east side of the structure.

“Was he really checking me out?” Harper asked.

Zander couldn’t hide his smirk. “I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t like him,” Harper said. “I find him … repugnant.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I can guarantee that there will never be anything romantic between Jared Monroe and myself,” Harper said. “We’re from two different worlds. Those worlds are never going to collide.”

“I’m going to remind you how wrong you were on this subject every day for the rest of our lives when I’m proven right,” Zander warned.

“Right back at you,” Harper shot back.

It was a battle of wills and they both knew it. Only one of them could be right. Now the question was: Which one?

Ten

“How do I look?”

Zander pranced into the living room later that night dressed in his favorite jeans and “special occasion” black shirt. The shirt was so tight it left nothing to the imagination – which was exactly the look Zander was going for on his big date with the waiter.

“You look handsome,” Harper said, glancing up from her spot on the couch where she was flipping through a magazine. “Wow. You even washed your hair.”

“I had to. Matilda was a crazy ghost and even though she threw that pot at you the dirt from inside got all over me. I can’t go out with my possible soul mate with dirt in my hair.”

Harper smirked. “Your possible soul mate? What are you going to call him when this relationship goes south?”

“The guy who serves the crappy clam chowder,” Zander replied, nonplussed. “Come on. Focus on me. Is there anything about this outfit that makes me look fat?”

Since Harper and Zander had been inseparable since kindergarten Harper’s mother, Gloria, was convinced her daughter was missing out on having a female best friend. What Gloria never realized was that Zander was better than any run-of-the-mill female friend. He was the best of both worlds. He could sit on the couch and commiserate over a pint of ice cream and then obsess about the calories an hour later. What more could a girl ask for?

“You look great,” Harper said, turning her attention back to the magazine.

If she thought the conversation was over with, she was sadly mistaken. “Harp, turn away from the magazine and pay attention to me.”

Harper sighed and tossed the magazine onto the couch, resigned. “I’m focused on you. What should I specifically be paying attention to?”

“Do I smell like I’m expecting sex or am I merely leaving the door open for it?” Zander asked, leaning over so Harper could inhale his new cologne.

“You smell like … .” Harper wrinkled her nose. “What is that?”

“Polo Blue.”

“Is that different than regular Polo?”

“Duh.”

Harper pinched Zander’s side. “You smell great. You look great. Stop fussing about this. Whenever you go out with a new guy we go through this rigmarole. You’re the handsomest guy in town. You know it and I know it.”

“What about Jared Monroe?” Zander teased.

“Do not go there.”

“We’re still not done talking about him, but I don’t have time for a big fight and the ice cream that will follow us making up,” Zander said. “We’re talking about this tomorrow, though.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” Zander said. He glanced down at Harper. “What are you going to do tonight?”

“I’m going to watch television and go to bed early.”

Zander frowned. “Your social life is tragic when I’m not around to force you to engage with others,” he said. “If I left you to your own devices you would spend your days in pajamas and curlers.”

“Curlers?”

“You know what I mean,” Zander said. “This is why I think Jared would be good for you.”

“I thought we were waiting until tomorrow to talk about this,” Harper said.