The Widow's Walk (16 page)

“Shut up!” He drained the bottle and threw it onto the bed.

Someone banged on the door. It had to be Kevin; Mae and Liz were far more dainty. Mike staggered downstairs.

Sure enough, Kevin’s face, distorted through the stained glass sidelights, contorted with anger, peered in. His voice went up an octave or two as the door opened. “Mary, mother of God, she threw ya out?”

Mae surged in his wake. “So ya handled it, ha? I defended ya, actually, though ya didn’t deserve it. Smells like a dive bar.”

Kevin took Mae by the shoulders. “Give the guy a break. Ya know as well as anyone that there’s nothin’ between him and Sandra. He was just tryin’ to help Liz.”

Mae shook him off. “I’d say it was pretty poor judgment, especially given the state Liz is in right now. I’m goin’ back to stay with her. The two of ya are goin’ to make a fine pair. One already drunk, the other thinkin’ it’s all okay.”

Mike belched. A whiff of Jack Daniels permeated the air. “Liz didn’t throw me out. I left. Well, she suggested I might want to leave, and I did. She has to make a decision–me or that damn haunted house.”

The brogue slid away as Katherine asserted herself. “I have a second chance to right the wrong and intend to take it.”

Mae didn’t seem aware of it, but Kevin stood transfixed as his wife’s demeanor changed, her features and voice softened. Mike surrendered to the relief of his drunken haze. Jared remained silent. Liz would be looked after, and he wasn’t going to have to be the one to do it.

Chapter 23

The front door creaked and thudded. Liz clutched the baby and hurried to the nursery. She tucked him into the crib and tied her robe shut. Footsteps ascended the front stairs.

Spectral energy filled the room. Liz’s scalp prickled. Something was going to happen, and she was alone with Eddie.

Had Mae forgotten something? Was Mike reconsidering? Could it be an intruder? Footfalls scuffed in the hall. Liz grabbed her crutch and nudged the door shut with her toe. Her heart thumped. Why hadn’t she closed the nursery door?

When she didn’t answer the soft knock, they rapped louder, more insistent. She raised the crutch and swooped it down as the door opened.

“Liz!” Mae ducked out of the way, a hand clutched to her chest. “Mae!” Liz fumbled, and the crutch clattered to the floor, missing her head by the width of an angel’s wing. She buried her face in her hands, mortified. Despair finally broke through the façade.

“I . . . I guess I should’ve called first. Oh, Lizzy. I’m sorry.” Mae hugged her.

The warmth of another human body comforted Liz beyond what she’d expected. “What are you doing here?”

Mae wiped her eyes. “Mike isn’t coming back tonight.” The brogue slid away as Katherine emerged from hiding. “There’s no way I’d leave you here all alone.”

“I’m fine, Mae. Kevin will be lonesome.” She squeaked it out over Elisabeth who threatened to take control of her tongue and blabber how it had all been a terrible accident, a mistake. Old news, and there was no need to revisit it now.

“I will not make the same mistake and leave you alone to walk into the bay.” Mae stared directly at Liz, her gaze so intense it was like she was looking straight at Elisabeth. Unsure who was in control of either of them, Liz extended her arms.

Mae embraced Liz again. “Good. Then I’ll just take myself across the hall to the guest room. If ya need anythin’ just holler.” The brogue returned, the momentary breach of the veil sealed, the magical connection broken.

Mae wandered into the nursery to check Eddie then went to her room. The relief, the comfort of her friend’s presence dimmed. So it was Mae’s turn to babysit tonight. And not just for Eddie. Why should anyone trust her? She’d squandered Gerry’s legacy, ruined her relationship with Jay, allowed her husband to drift into another woman’s arms, and repaid Mae and Kevin’s loyalty by threatening their livelihood.

Liz padded downstairs to check the doors.

Mae surprised her at the top of the landing. “What’s wrong?”

“Just being sure everything is locked. Neither of us wants any more intruders, do we?” “Goodnight, Lizzy.” Mae retreated to a guest room and left the door ajar.

Liz fumed. She might even sit up all night, waiting to catch her.

She returned to the rocker. The rhythmic motion lulled her to the edge of sleep. A faint light flickered through the few denuded maples in the pine grove. Mike was still awake, maybe even staring at the illumination in her window. If only he had a phone, she’d call him, apologize, ask him to come home. But if she tried to go over there, Mae would be on her tail and the whole thing would turn into an incident rather than an attempt at reconciliation.

He was alone, devoid of any sense of life and happiness. No phone, no food, heat turned down low, no comforts. Was Jared raging within him as well? Or was Mike on the way to see Sandra with the news? Driving to the deli for a few staples and some beer, calling Allison on a pay phone to let her know where he could be reached, and that he’d dumped his wife?

Liz turned off the light, crawled into bed, and curled around her pillow. Even moving to the middle didn’t disguise Mike’s absence. Though he hadn’t touched her for what seemed like months, he’d been there, a constant, comforting presence. Her bed, her life, her body were all empty, cold, dead–consumed by the ghost who swirled within.

You must go to your husband, now. Don’t make the same mistake again.

“Shut up.” Liz stretched and recoiled as her feet plunged into the cold sheets. She curled into a fetal position to capture some warmth, and only then did sleep override Elisabeth’s fretting.

“
Why did you do it, Elisabeth? Why did you follow Edward to your death?”

Liz’s eyes shot open and she struggled to locate the origin of a male voice, familiar yet foreign at the same time. Her vision adjusted to the darkness. A sliver of yellow glowed from the night light in the nursery. Her scalp tingled, her skin erupted with goose bumps.

She shivered. “Mike?”

No answer. She could scream. Mae would come running, flip on the light, banish the ghosts.

She could pretend nothing happened, that it was a dream, no a nightmare, spawned by the day’s traumas. Pull the covers over her head. Try and go back to sleep. Elisabeth stirred.
I have to face this. Face him.

With permission granted, Jared appeared in the window alcove, facing away, facing the bay. His shirt untucked, wrinkled. His hair disheveled. His trousers bagging at the knees, boots still on. His eyes blind, like liquid silver, but moving, taking in the entire room–and her. Trapped in that moment, talking to his dead wife concealed in another woman’s body.

It’s time.
Elisabeth moved her like a puppeteer.

Liz slipped out of bed. Jared buried his face in both hands, sobbing soundlessly. Liz heard them in her head–as she sensed the words being spoken.

Elisabeth spoke through her. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt myself. Please believe me. I never intended it to happen.”

Jared’s lips curled into a snarl, his fists clenched, he glided toward her.

Liz recoiled, her heart raced. She could get away, get into the hall, turn on the light, scream. But Eddie was out of her reach, helpless. Liz braced herself for the same reaction Mike had when he’d touched the ghost.

Elisabeth extended Liz's arms.
“
I loved you, Jared. But I needed Edward’s assurance. He was calling me, and I went to him.”

“And he let you drown. Will you never cease risking your life for him?” Jared hissed.

“Edward did nothing to harm me. He returned me to life, to you. Made amends.”

“And you reject me still.” The ghost encircled Liz in his misty aura. The odour of sweat, tears, grief, death filled the room.

Liz shivered, the cold, so profound her hands and feet went numb. Her breath vaporized.

Elisabeth reached for Jared. “What’s done is done and cannot be changed. Come to me now.”

“Why?” His face contorted with rage. Jared’s hands touched her shoulders. “Why should I believe you?”

A jolt numbed her tongue, rooted her feet to this sad place. Elisabeth fought to escape, to materialize, to go to him. One of her arms appeared, then another. “Take me with you.” A bare right foot, then the left protruded.

Liz struggled to breathe as Elisabeth pulled herself free.

Jared’s eyes gleamed with sinister delight. Then his sightless eye sockets fixed on the door, and he faded away.

Liz drew deep breaths once more. The radiators banged, clanked, shusshed.

“Merciful God, speak to me.” Mae walked toward her.

She’d scared Jared away, his words meant for Elisabeth’s ears only, his fury for only her to experience. Elisabeth shrunk back into her like a punctured Mylar balloon. A metallic, musty aura lingered.

“Eddie.” Still trembling, Liz staggered toward the nursery. Nausea washed over her, and she clasped her hand over her mouth until she could grab the plastic garbage pail to vomit into.

She crumbled to the floor next to the crib, her legs like overstretched rubber bands. The baby slept, undisturbed, unaware.

Mae fell to her knees next to them. “Did he hurt you?” She stroked Liz’s face, dabbed her mouth with a tissue, and pulled back the tangled mat of hair.

Liz’s tongue, still thick, her breath still shallow, found words. “I’ll be all right.”

The tingle of Jared’s fury lingered. What if Elisabeth had escaped? Would she have blocked his wrath, or would she have killed Liz to appease Jared?

She couldn’t share what happened with Mae. Understanding the threat would only make them more protective, restrictive.

Mae helped Liz to her feet. “The baby is fine. Go back to bed.”

“What did you see?” Liz had to know.

“Jared Sanders reaching for you. You preparing to go to him. Might you have gone had I not intervened?” Katherine’s melodious British replaced the brogue.

“No,” Liz lied.

Mae snapped back into control and guided Liz to the bed. “I’ll get ya some water.”

“Yes.” Liz lay back and pulled the covers over her, wishing for a hot cup of tea, for Mike.

Send her for tea
, Elisabeth insisted, a throwback to the time Katherine had waited on her hand and foot.

So you can get me alone and try that again? No way.

Mae moved like she was sleepwalking, and asking her to do any more was far too cruel. She flipped on a tiny lamp on the dresser. The bathroom tap gurgled. Her footsteps asserted human presence once again. She sat on the side of the bed while Liz raised herself up and gulped. The lump in her throat dissolved. Exhaustion, weakness overcame her.

Mae tucked the covers around her. “Stay with us, Liz. You belong with the living, not the ghosts.”

She’d seen everything. She might have even sensed Elisabeth’s command. Katherine might even had suggested she retrieve some tea and been silenced by Mae’s insistence they not leave the mistress alone.

Mae crawled across the bed and slipped under the covers. “I’ll be stayin’ close by to be sure yer not bothered by them again.”

As much as Liz resented it, without the human presence, the comfort of Mae’s hand on her arm, she would have been tempted to escape into the cold, lonely limbo once and for all. Save for the tattered connection with this woman that kept her bound to the present, Liz would have been trapped between Elisabeth and Jared in their tragic past.

Mae’s breathing deepened. Exhaustion clawed at Liz’s eyelids, but every time she allowed them to close, the memory of Jared’s snarl, so similar to Mike’s recent verbal assaults, burned her eyes like someone had thrown sand in them.

Two women sleeping together, their husbands alone. How long could this go on before Mae’s marriage was as wrecked as Liz and Mike’s? The tangled threads of Elisabeth and Edward’s lives had ensnared Jared, Katherine and Paul, dooming Mike, Mae and Kevin to as much misery as Liz.

Edward might have put things right, but the knots were too tight, the strands too entwined to be separated. With each twist and turn, the noose got tighter. The web had trapped innocents: Jay, Eddie, Allison–leaving them confused and uncertain, prey for the venomous spiders of doubt, worry, anger, and distrust.

And Edward, the ghost at the center of it, had vanished as quickly and surely as he had the first time, not sticking around to help cut them loose. Perhaps finding him, buried somewhere deep inside the knot of woes, would help untie them all, free them. But where was he? His aura merely lingered on the bay, but not nearly as tangibly as Elisabeth and Jared in this room. Edward was far removed from the reality of the shambles left in his wake.

Edward Barrett told Elisabeth told her to stay in the house to honour his memory. He’d told her to live her life–the one stolen and given back. But he hadn’t told her how to deal with the specters, with the flashbacks of misery and pain. Ghosts don’t feel; they relive and relive their trauma, oblivious to those around them. She had to find Edward to find out what to do next.

Chapter 24

Eddie whimpered. Liz dragged herself out of bed.

Before his diaper was changed, Mae was at the nursery door. “Are ya okay, Lizzy? Do ya want to sleep a bit more?”

“I’m fine, Mae. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll make breakfast for a change. Kevin and Mike will be here soon.” Her voice broke into a strained whisper.

“I haven’t slept later than 5:30 in so long my body won’t even let me lay flat at this hour.” Mae grabbed her robe and headed downstairs.

By the time Eddie was freshened up, pots were banging.

Liz wasn’t the only one lying. Mae’s eyes were slits, and her lids were puffy, red.

Eddie settled into his chair, into his normal morning routine. He focused on the door, waiting for Kevin to arrive for breakfast. Could his baby brain be hoping Mike would come, too? Or was that her hoping?

“Is it ever like this for you and Kevin, Mae? Do the ghosts take over? Do they visit at all?”

Mae put two cups of tea on the table. “Nothin’ like this. Just an occasional feeling I’ve been in a similar situation, a memory–usually bad. Kevin, too, or so he says. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Liz sipped. “You never lose control? Over the ghost, I mean.”

Mae didn’t hesitate. “No. Katherine puts in, but the most she’s done is clean up my language. Right proper young lady, she was. Shy, quiet. Nothin’ like me. Elisabeth’s death changed her forever.”

“Am I supposed to just forget about Sandra? Give up everything and trust him to always be there for me?” Could Mae understand how hard it was to control the grief stricken ghosts desperate to escape?

Mae cradled her chin between her thumb and index finger, her brow crinkled. She sighed. “That man isn’t a philanderer. And he’s always been by yer side.”

Liz’s hope evaporated. Mae and Kevin could live with theirs, but Liz and Mike’s ghosts were hell bent on destroying themselves, and maybe even each other. Mae and Kevin didn’t understand, and Mike had chosen to flee.

Kevin clumped up the back porch, but he didn’t enter the kitchen.

Eddie squealed, but all Kevin could manage was a wimpy smile. “We’ll stop at the diner and eat. Just wanted to let ya both know.” His eyes had almost disappeared into the lines and dark circles.

“But . . .”

He cut Mae off. “Right terrible sleepless night for us all.” Kevin turned to Liz. “The two of ya need to work this out before it kills ya both.”

Mae followed her husband out to commiserate in the mudroom. Snippets of anxious conversation drifted in.

Mae, desperate. “ . . . can’t stay in the house . . .”

Kevin, insistent. “Talk it through . . .”

Mae, again. “ . . . can’t be alone.”

Can’t be alone. Can’t be alone. She couldn’t be left alone to make her own decisions, her own plans, her own choices. The knot got a little closer to being a noose.

Liz couldn’t stay, but she couldn’t leave. Mike had his own answers, but what were the questions? Only Edward knew–he’d broken free of his purgatory and hadn’t been seen for nearly a year.

Mae settled back into her chair, struggling not to cry. Frosty air radiated off her, penetrating Liz’s flannel robe. The baby’s nose was running. Liz wiped it with a tissue. He protested, arms flailing.

The fog of living between worlds clouded her thoughts. The weight of all their collective misery sat on her shoulders. Liz had to plan, do, act or they’d all go down with her.

“I want to take a walk on the beach.” Perhaps Edward would give her some guidance.

Mae put down her teacup and took Liz’s arm. “Not by yourself.”

“Having company will distract me. I need privacy.”

“Liz, do you really think I’d let you go off to the beach alone after all the trouble ya stirred up the last time?”

Liz bristled. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“We need to get rid of the spirits, not rile them up again.” Mae leaned across the table.

She backed away. “I’m not a prisoner, Mae. I can go where I want, when I want.”

“Ya must be jokin’. I’m goin’ to let ya go on a stroll to the beach in the middle of the winter? Especially with your record of . . .”

“I know I’ve made some poor choices before. But the water soothes me, and I feel like I can connect with Edward there. Surely you must understand how solitude with your thoughts allows you to think things through.”

Mae frowned. “Who’s talking right now, Liz, or Elisabeth?”

“Liz. Absolutely me.” She pounded her fists on the table. “Edward is the father of my child. I want to be near where he’s buried–just like I was visiting a cemetery. Why can’t you understand?”

“You got pregnant that night you spent with Mike on the beach. I saw both of you covered in sand, remember?” Mae backed against the wall as if she was trying to get away.

“You don’t remember that Edward manifested himself when Eddie was born?”

“Sure do. But a haunted house is enough of a stretch for me to accept without claimin’ that a ghost made you pregnant. We just humored you, me, Mike, and Kevin figuring it was a convenient excuse for some fling you’d had. Or an assault.”

“Edward took me back to the last night before he sailed on his final voyage, and I became the host for Elisabeth. I ran after him and almost drowned. But he saved me, pulled me back onto the beach. Mike was going fishing when he found me.”

Mae’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Mike and I had just met. We’d never been together. He didn’t believe it either. But when Edward spoke to him at the birth and told him to take care of us, he knew it was true.”

“I’m a God-fearin’ woman . . .” Mae’s head shook like she had Parkinson’s.

“Mae, none of these ghosts will rest, including Paul and Katherine Mays, unless they have a chance to reconcile their sorrows and right their wrongs. Elisabeth and Jared are giving it a go. I need to find Edward to help. Please understand. Let me go down to the beach and see if Elisabeth can connect with him.”

“What would Mike and Kevin say if I let you do that?”

“The hell with Mike and Kevin. And the hell with you, too! I’m sick of being watched like I’m going to explode.”

Mae took her hand. “Liz, please. Each of us is battling our own private hell. Hard to shake those memories.” The brogue faded. Mae’s voice drifted off.

The wound Liz just inflicted on her friend had opened up an old scar. She left the room before she said something else she’d regret.

Liz made the bed, then paced around the bedroom. If she’d stayed in Beacon Hill, the upstanding widow would have the sympathy of everyone around her. She wouldn’t have Eddie, but she would still have a relationship with Jay.

There would have been no court battles, legal challenges, and once the partnership payments had stopped there would have been an investigation into why. Jeffers might not have had the opportunity to steal her money. But her son, grieving, immature, and gullible had pulled down the shades behind which the lawyer ruined the practice as well as her life and those of a lot of others.

Sure she’d be restless, wonder why she had a vague sense of missing someone or something. She’d sit on the same Cape Cod beach, summer after summer, pondering why it had such significance.

A small shiver of recognition, of regret, might run through her when she drove past the dilapidated Victorian, on her way back to Boston. She’d chalk it up to melancholy about going back to her lonely house. She might have never figured out who the dream lover was, enticing her to come to him, to come to the Cape. She’d still have all Gerry’s life insurance money, her respectability, and could hold her head up, feel sane, competent.

Mike would still be a lonely fisherman, living alone, in a dated house, rife with sad memories of his first wife and a daughter who hated to come home. Mae and Kevin would still be blissfully in love, no better off, no worse, always figuring out what to do, always together, making the best of what ever opportunity came their way.

Gerry, why didn’t you stop me? Everyone else tried to convince me I was making a mistake, bargaining on a stream of income even though you were dead and gone. Edward, why did you lure me back into the exact same circumstances and financial ruin that led Elisabeth to her death?

Yes, Edward.
The words weren’t hers.
Why did I leave London? I could have had an easy life filled with useless banter and meaningless activities. I’d have married a nobleman who would have left me alone while dallying with his mistresses once I’d dutifully produced an heir. I could have attended balls, teas, luncheons, ridden foxhunts. I’d have had pretty frocks, known what happened to my mother and father. I wouldn’t have died alone.

I tasted the glory of love, happiness, passion only to have it stolen away by your affair with the sea. Then loneliness, misery, desperation that touched everyone I knew. Why, Edward? Why did I follow you?

I want to go to Apthorp, my father’s seat. See my mare, Copper. It hurt more to leave my horse than my parents. Poor Mama. Her last words to me came true. “If you leave, Elisabeth I know I shall never see you again.”

I’d hoped that a new life with Edward would be happier. A hope dashed on the rocks like a ship blown off course. Edward tried his best, built this beautiful home, then killed himself trying to pay for it all.
I want to go back to Apthorp. I want to go home.

Liz stared in the mirror. “So. I’m going to London.”

How could she pay for that? How would she get away?

Mae passed by with the cranky baby in her arms. “I’m goin’ to put him down for a nap and clean upstairs. Anything in particular ya want for dinner?”

“No, thanks.” Guilt surged as she thought of Mike, next door eating frozen dinners.

Mae paced the halls upstairs, trying to soothe the confused tyke. Liz wrote some checks and calculated the balance in the checkbook. “Damn, where am I going to get the money to cover this?” She logged into online banking.

“Huh? $9500.00 in checking?” Her heart fluttered. “The check Marianne promised was deposited!”

More than enough for a flight to Heathrow and a few days in England. She’d leave from Logan after an overnight in Boston. First, she’d pay a visit to Bill Jeffers, if he’d see her. Demand some answers. With any luck, she’d find a whisper of Gerry tucked into a local haunt in the Back Bay to offer her some comfort.

Could she find Elisabeth’s ancestral home, her parent’s graves, anything? Maybe she’d be able to snag an appointment at the William Morris Gallery to find and order prints for the damn book. Selling that would certainly help her pay some bills.

“Thank you Elisabeth, Edward, Gerry. Or all of you. Whoever sent me this sign.”

She went to Expedia.com. Synchronicity could also be a good thing. A single one-way ticket for $399.00, tomorrow night. Eddie could sit on her lap. A few clicks later, she secured the deal. A hotel? Google said Apthorp was the former seat of The Earl of Camberley. She’d figure it out when she got there.

Liz dug out the passports they’d obtained for the romantic honeymoon for three that never happened, and collected her needed papers. She stowed research notes into the laptop bag, lingered over a long note to Mike, and one to Mae and Kevin.

She packed. As the vacuum hummed, she dragged the suitcases downstairs and to the trunk of her car.

The house went quiet. Each of the nine dings of the old cuckoo clock grated on Liz’s already overwrought nerves.

She sneaked upstairs. Mae was curled up on the bed in the guest room, snoring like a kitten with a cold. She could have stood a nap herself, but there would be time for that later.

She bundled the sleepy baby into winter clothes and blasted the heat in the BMW. Eddie settled into his seat singing along, in baby language, to Lori Berkner’s CD “Bumblebees and Googleheads.”

She wasn’t coming home until she had answers to all the questions. There was no way to avoid hurting her friends. There was no way to save her marriage unless she got this figured out. There was no way she could stay here again tonight, fearing Jared’s wrath. No, this was the only way.

Liz peeled out of the driveway and filled the gas tank at the Mobil station. The teller didn’t raise an eyebrow when she withdrew $5000.00.

Eddie squealed when the music stopped, and she reloaded the CD. Liz ignored the portent and headed to Boston chiming in for the refrain, “I’m a Googlehead, too.”