Ghostly liaison, p.10
Ghostly Liaison, page 10
“I would have if I knew you were going to drop the G-bomb.” Damn Robbie and his closed mind. “You’re not giving up, though, are you?”
Bridget sat up and sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll get what you need. But I need a computer. Rob said the whole incident was in the papers. I just have to find the articles. Kate’s computer is too slow, and I don’t have that kind of time during lunch.”
“What about your folks?”
“Mom would want to know why I needed it. I don’t need her snooping around. One person thinking I’m nuts is already one too many. I’ll go to the library on Saturday.”
“I got a better idea. Ask Mr. Murdock. He’s got a computer. And he’s all alone. He’ll probably welcome the company.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll even leave you alone, so your head won’t hurt.”
“My head doesn’t hurt any less when you’re not around. I only get the stabs when you first appear.”
Charlie smiled. She wouldn’t have to leave as often. Hot damn!
Bridget pulled the covers up. “However, when I’m with Rob, I have no pain whatsoever. Almost seems unfair.”
Charlie understood unfair. “If Robbie helps, why not take advantage? Apologize and tell him you were only joking. I can tell he likes you. He’d probably believe it.”
“No. I won’t lie to him. And I certainly won’t use him like that. Besides, nothing is going to happen between us. Got it? And if thinking I’m nuts will stop his advances, then I’m not going to change his mind.”
“What do you have against my brother?”
“Nothing. Now, do you mind? I’d like to go to sleep.”
“Wait, Bridget. Before you do, could you….”
The covers flew off the bed and Bridget stomped over to the door. “What channel?”
“Seven.” Charlie wrapped her arms around her new friend. “Thank you. You’re the bestest roomie a ghost could ever have.”
Chapter 11
Rob entered the sports bar and scanned the area. No Brian at the pool tables or dartboards, or even the bar. Figured. Giving Brian a specific time to meet was as useful as giving one to Barnaby. Hoping his wait would be short, Rob took a seat at the bar.
“Hey, Rob. What’s your pleasure?” John Pennington, bartender and owner of Wings, placed a napkin on the dark wood surface. Rob had become friends with him while working on a home-improvement project.
“I’ll have a Bud Light.” Yeah, he’d start out light. Then maybe hit the hard stuff after Brian left.
The day had been torture, and he was such a sap. Mooning over someone who clearly suffered from post-traumatic something or other shouldn’t drive him to drink. As if booze would solve any problems. It usually only added to the list. Still, getting lost for a little while seemed like a damned good idea.
John placed the pilsner glass on the napkin. “Everything okay?”
“Not really.” Rob took a swig of the beer. “Can I ask you a stupid question? If you don’t want to answer it, I’ll understand.”
“My mother always said the only stupid question is the one not asked. Shoot.”
“Smart mother.” Rob rubbed his face and took a calming breath. He should have downed the beer first, and then he wouldn’t care what John’s reaction would be. Oh, hell. Another sip wouldn’t hurt any. After another swig, he asked, “Do you believe in ghosts? I mean, really believe.”
John raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised by the question. Then a smile formed on his face. “There was a time I didn’t believe in anything but my work. Then life took a strange turn and opened my eyes to a whole ’nother world.”
“But you haven’t seen a ghost, have you?”
“I couldn’t tell you if I have or haven’t. I can say no one has ever introduced themselves to me as a ghost. Doesn’t mean I haven’t seen one. And not seeing one doesn’t mean they don’t exist. There are a lot of stars in the sky. More than you can see. Does that mean they don’t exist?”
“How do I know if she sees ghosts or is just delusional?”
John leaned against the bar. “Ahh, so there’s a she, huh? Someone you like?”
Rob ran his finger over the lip of the glass. “Probably too much.”
“Talk to her about other things. If she’s delusional, it will come out. Just pay attention.”
Now why hadn’t he thought of that? Bridget was smart and before that episode, had seemed totally sane. “You’re probably right.”
“I hope it works out for you.”
So did Rob, because no matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head. He took another swig. “So, how are those UV windows working for you?”
John’s face lit up like a little boy at Christmas. “They’re great. Having sunshine in the house once again is a miracle. It was the best present I could give my fiancé.”
“I didn’t know you were getting married. Congratulations.” Rob extended his hand and John shook it.
Brian slapped Rob on the shoulder. “Better watch out. You might be next.” He laughed and turned to John. “Congratulations, man.”
John placed a napkin on the bar. “Thanks. The usual?”
Brian answered in the affirmative. “I see you started before me. Is that any way for a friend to act?”
“I’m sure you won’t have any problems catching up.” And then when Brian left for his wife and home, Rob could really get hammered. Maybe. “I’m glad you called. Because I wanted to talk to you about Bridget.”
“Yeah, about her.” Brian picked up his beer. “Let’s get a booth.”
Well, that couldn’t be good. Rob took his drink, followed his friend to an empty booth, and sat across from him. “Is something wrong with Bridget?”
“Not that I know of. Man, I hate this, but you know how Kate can be. I haven’t seen her this agitated since before we got married.”
Rob should have known Kate had instigated this meeting. No way would his friend call for an impromptu meeting in the middle of the week. Leave it to Kate to give him more grief than Bridget’s mother. “Does she think you’ll change anything?”
“I don’t know. I just know I’ll have peace if I’m able to truthfully tell her we talked.” His friend leaned across the table. “So how bad do you have it for Bridget?”
So bad he was willing to ignore the fact she might be crazy? “Why don’t you tell Kate you told me to stay away? It’s what she wants, isn’t it?”
“Oh, man, you do have it bad.” Brian took a drink of his beer. “Are you aware of what happened to Bridget?”
Finally, getting to the information he craved. “I heard about the car accident, but she doesn’t look like she was hurt all that bad. I figured she broke her leg or something. How bad was it?”
“Try the or something. She technically died. And after they brought her back, she was in a coma for almost nine months. No one thought she would come out of it until one day she woke up.”
Died? That one word lingered in his head, and he couldn’t shake it free.
Died. That one word caused him all sorts of pain in his chest.
Death was more than a broken leg. Death was final. Well, usually. Thank God this time it hadn’t been or he’d never have met her.
Wait. Could that be why she saw ghosts? Had her near-death experience opened some kind of spiritual doorway or had she always had the ability? Shit! He did have it bad when he not only started to believe her, but didn’t care if she did or didn’t see ghosts.
Rob sucked down some brew. “She seems okay now, though. So what’s Kate so worried about?”
“She thinks Bridget is still grieving. She lost her best friend in that accident. A friend who was eight months pregnant.”
“Ah, man.” How much guilt was she carrying around? Worse yet, was anyone blaming her? “Was this friend’s husband by any chance named Devin?”
“Yeah. Some doctor hotshot.”
“Does he blame Bridget?”
Brian shrugged. “I don’t know. He shouldn’t. Bridget was driving, but she wasn’t at fault. In fact, she pulled over after stalling out the car. It had started snowing and the roads were untreated. Some drunk lost control at a stop sign and plowed right into them, sending them into the river. By the time the emergency crews arrived, Suzie had drowned and Bridget nearly bled out.”
Wiping the gruesome scene from his mind, Rob concentrated on her pretty face instead. She was alive. He held onto that.
“Kate’s reaction still doesn’t make sense. So what if Bridget is grieving. Does that mean she’s not allowed to date?”
“Hey, I never said I understood my wife. All I can say is that before the accident, they were close. Like sisters. Now, Kate only sees Bridget at work.”
“You can’t blame her for that, now can you? I mean, you two are still newlyweds. Maybe Bridget thinks three’s a crowd. You don’t see me as often.”
“Which reminds me, we’re having a Memorial Day barbecue on Monday and you’re invited. Should I tell Kate you’ll be over?”
Rob smiled. Guess Kate wasn’t too mad at him if she could reprimand and invite all in one visit. “Will the invitation still stand if I continue seeing Bridget?”
“So you are seeing her? You’re dating?”
Hell, yeah, if he had any say in the matter. “It’s still a work in process. Can I ask you a question, though? Do you think Bridget has changed? Is there something I’m not seeing because I hadn’t met her before?”
Brian drained his beer. “I only met her a few times before the accident. She’s probably a little more subdued now. Quieter. She used to crack some pretty raunchy jokes, ones she heard at the hospital, back when she was a nurse. I haven’t heard her laugh since the accident.”
Rob had made her laugh. That had to mean something.
“If she’s a nurse, how come she’s working for Kate?”
“No idea. You’ll have to ask Bridget.”
“You don’t think she’s crazy?” Oh shit. Why the hell had he asked that? He downed the rest of his beer.
“Crazy? Why? Did she do something?”
“No, no, no. I just wondered because of the way Kate is acting.” Yeah, that was why.
Brian shook his head. “I’ve never seen Bridget act anything but serious since the accident. Listen, Kate goes a little overboard where family is concerned. Can you imagine what she’ll be like as a mother?” They both laughed and then his face became stone-cold sober. “Shit. Guess I’ll have my work cut out for me, huh?”
Rob laughed. “You said it. I didn’t.”
Chapter 12
Summer arrived early on the Saturday before Memorial Day. The clock hadn’t even struck noon and the temperature already hovered around eighty-five. Bridget pulled the long-sleeve T-shirt away from her chest as she stared out into the backyard. The covered pool stood out there, but with the temperature barely reaching the seventies for the past week, the water was probably too cold, if not dirty.
Well, what better way to spend the day than finding out? If it was dirty, then she’d just clean it. It would not only pass the time, but keep her mind busy. She turned and headed for the bedroom to change. With a fenced-in yard to hide her, she might as well get comfortable and wear something that wouldn’t give her heatstroke.
“Why don’t you walk?” Charlie asked. “Your feet work, don’t they? Of course they do. I can see you walking right now.”
Bridget shook her head. Ever since she’d gotten the address where Nick’s accident occurred, Charlie had done nothing but hound her. “Oh my God! Is this what being a ghost has done to you? You’re sounding like a spoiled teenager. I told you. I get my bike back today. You can wait a few more hours.”
“I don’t see why you won’t tell me where it is. You’re the one who said you wanted nothing more to do with this. Man, if I knew you were going to hide it, I would have been watching the monitor.”
At first, Bridget had wanted it over, but in the short time they had lived together, she was considering Charlie a friend—albeit a strange one—and friends looked out for one another. If Nick didn’t appear, it would break Charlie’s heart. “I didn’t tell you to watch the Reds game.”
“If you had cable, I wouldn’t have been jonesing for a baseball fix.” Charlie crossed her arms across her chest. “This life sucks.”
“I’m sorry. But I am not walking fourteen miles. Not for anyone.” Even riding her bike that far would test her knee.
“You said it was seven miles away.”
“Yeah, and seven miles back. Duh!”
“Hey! I never said I majored in math.”
Bridget opened her dresser and rummaged through the shirts. Long sleeves. Long sleeves. Long sleeves. She must have a short-sleeve one somewhere. Didn’t she?
“There is another way you could go,” Charlie said.
“I’m not cutting the sleeves.”
“What? No, not your shirts. Although, I do have to say, you got a lot of long-sleeve shirts there. Was there a sale?”
Bridget slammed the drawer shut. “What are you talking about?”
“Finding Nick. Why don’t you ask Rob for a ride?”
“And tell him what? That his sister’s ghost told me to go find Nick? He already thinks I’m nuts because I blabbed about seeing you.”
“Okay, so Rob’s out. How about Mr. Murdock? He likes you. You probably won’t even have to beg.”
“Stop it, Charlie. I’ll go when I get my bike. But keep it up and I’ll make you wait another day.”
That threat widened Charlie’s eyes and her mouth clamped shut. Wow. Bridget nearly flexed her muscles. Sometimes words were stronger.
“So, what are you looking for?” Charlie asked quietly.
“A short-sleeve shirt so I can go clean the pool and not get heatstroke doing it.”
“How about a bathing suit? You got one of those?”
“I do. But it’s at my parents.”
“You sure? What about the box your mom brought?”
“What box?”
“That one.” Charlie pointed to the closet. “She brought it in when you were putting away all those groceries she bought.”
Bridget swiveled. First, her mother had brought bags of food over, as if she couldn’t shop for herself, which she couldn’t, not without help, but still, she planned on calling this weekend for just that. Now her mother was boxing her stuff and bringing it over?
She knelt before the box and opened it. No wonder her mother hadn’t said anything. Packed neatly inside were the skimpy summer clothes she’d tended to wear before the accident, along with her old swimsuit.
“I guess you have something to wear after all, huh?” Charlie said.
Maybe. Bridget rummaged through the box. Not one short-sleeve shirt. All tanks and shorts. And her swimsuit? The turquoise suit with the low-cut neck looked smaller than she remembered. No way. She’d have to be the only person left on the face of the earth before she went outside wearing that.
“Why do you suppose she didn’t tell you she brought that? Wouldn’t she think you’d want them?”
“She probably hoped I’d want them.” Bridget closed the box, leaving all the clothes inside.
A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. She turned her head as Charlie solidified.
“It’s not that bad, you know.”
Horrified at what Charlie was insinuating, Bridget breathed slowly through her nose. “What do you mean?”
“Now, don’t get mad at me. I found out by accident. You were coming out of the bathroom from a shower, I presume, just as I returned from Mr. Murdock’s.”
Bridget stood, breaking the connection. “You spied on me?”
Charlie shook her head. “No, I swear. I thought the coast was clear. Honest.”
“Why didn’t you make yourself known, then? Huh?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just—”
“Became disgusted with what you saw?” Bridget finished.
“Hardly. So you have a few scars. Big whoop. At least you’re alive.”
Yeah, she was alive. But Suzie and her baby were dead because of her. How fair was that?
“What does it matter I know? Who can I tell? Huh?”
Charlie had a point. And the yard was fenced in. Having a ghost for a friend wasn’t all bad, in fact it was rather nice. Bridget opened the box once again and pulled out a blue tank and white shorts.
* * * *
Rob leaned back in his chair. He’d come to the office hoping for a distraction, but the quiet solitude on a Saturday morning wasn’t any different here than it was at home. All he had done was change the scenery.
At least he had gotten some work accomplished. Work he could have done Friday if he didn’t have his head up his ass. When had a woman ever consumed every thought in his head? He had just about resigned himself to the fact he might be a bachelor forever. And then Bridget came along.
What did it mean when he was willing to get involved with someone whose emotional scars ran deep enough a relationship was nearly impossible? So she had guilt issues and believed she saw ghosts. Everything else about her was perfect, or at least pretty damn close. He didn’t want to walk away, he wanted to help her.
So why was he sitting here mooning over her when he could be at her place visiting? She had told him to come over for that paint sample. Then once he bought the paint, he could start painting this afternoon. And it would be just like her to pitch in, too. What better way to spend some time with her—in a cramped bathroom at that. Oh yeah, the day could turn out wonderful.
Before he left, he needed to send Linda an e-mail. After having checked the canceled paint order Mac had questioned, Rob was more confused than ever. The project still required paint, but Carl had placed the order with some unknown vendor, with the same price as before. He probably had some rational explanation—he usually did—but this didn’t seem right.
Then there was the Rialto job. Carl should have scheduled the men to start work on Tuesday, but nothing had been done. Clearly, he wasn’t okay with working there again. Rob should have taken over the project.
