The First Ghost. Marguerite Butler
knew where this was going. “I can see you.” I sighed. “Are you a ghost?”
“I’m Corinne,” she said as though this explained why she was sad and sitting on my hospital bed. Yes, she had to be a ghost.
“What can I do for you, Corinne?”
“I think I died here today,” she said uncertainly.
“Oh.” That explained a lot. My dead roommate. “Shouldn’t you be gone? I’m mean didn’t she...you know...take you wherever...you go?” I finished lamely, not sure how to frame the question. I’m not in the habit of talking to dead people. “Didn’t Death come by to pick you up?”
“She wouldn’t go.” I jumped at Hephzibah’s voice so near my elbow.
“Don’t do that.”
“Sorry, doll.”
“I have questions,” Corinne said. “I’m not ready to die yet.”
“I hear that all the time. No one is ever ready. Trust me,” Hephzibah said soothingly. “Come with me and everything will be clear as day.”
“I want my answers first. Where am I going? Did someone tell my Aunt Susie? Who did this to me? Why? What’s going to happen to Billy?”
“Slow down. Slow down. I told you. Just come with me and we’ll get you some answers. As for the worldly things, it’s best to forget them. They don’t matter to you anymore.”
Corinne crossed her arms. “I’m staying here.”
Hephzibah gave me a look. “A little help here?”
“Me? Don’t look at me,” I said. “I am not my mother. I don’t meddle in the affairs of the dead. Unh-unh. No way, Jose. Not gonna happen.” I desperately wished to be anywhere else. Anywhere. Even the dentist’s office.
I’m not a curmudgeon, I swear. But I’ve seen what the dead can do to the living, how much they can demand. It’s a slippery slope, and I had no intention of setting a single foot on it. I liked my life and really, why should I spend it fixing things for people who are gone? Life is for the living. Dead people should cross over to whatever comes next and leave the living in peace.
“At least promise the girl you’ll call Aunt Susie in Omaha.”
Corinne’s face brightened. “Would you? That would help a lot.”
“Of course she will. Won’t you, Portia? Her name is Portia,” Hephzibah whispered to Corinne. “She sees dead people.”
“But only for a little while. I’ll be myself soon. Then all this talking-to-the-dead stuff is over. I’ll call the aunt. But that’s it.” The way I figured it, calling the girl’s aunt was helping the living. I could do that. It seemed reasonable.
“What about Billy? Who’ll take care of my Billy?” Corinne’s voice rose. Hephzibah shot me another help me look.
“Who’s Billy?” I prayed she didn’t have a child she wanted me to adopt and raise. It would be hard to turn down a dead mother.
“Billy is my dog. My roommate hates him.” She sniffled. Her blue eyes were sad, but dry. “Please take care of my Billy.”
“A dog? No way. I’ll call your aunt, even though I’m sure the people at the hospital have already done it, but if it makes you feel better, then fine. A phone call? Yes. A dog? No.”
“It’s a little dog,” Hephzibah said. “I’ve seen it. A little bitty dog. Man’s best friend.”
“No. I’ll get evicted. I can’t have pets in my building.” Honestly, what would I do with a dog?
“At least find the doggy a good home.”
I glared at Hephzibah. “This is your gig. Not mine. Why are you dragging me into this?”
“I’m afraid Corinne is sort of fixated on you.” Hephzibah shrugged. “It happens.”
“I’m haunting you,” Corinne said cheerfully.
“Sometimes they’re a little reluctant to let go of this life. You can help them along their way. It’s your destiny, Portia.”
“You’re a Mahaffey,” Corinne said. “Death told me.”
“Hephzibah, doll. Call me Hephzibah. Yeah, I told her a little. I figure it’ll smooth things along.”
“I promised the phone call, but that is it. I don’t do dogs. Sorry.” I hardened my heart. See, that’s what happens. You promise one thing and suddenly they need more. It’s never enough with the dead. And if I helped one ghost, more were sure to follow with their requests.
Corinne started weeping dry tears again. “You’re not at all like Death said you would be. You’re mean. I am so out of here.”
“Good girl,” Hephzibah said. “Let’s go.”
“Stay away from me.” Corinne pointed an accusatory finger at her. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I’m good and ready.”
And then she vanished. I blinked a time or two to make sure.
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “She’s gone.”
“She’ll be back,” Hephzibah said. “I told you. She’s fixated on you. This is really important. She needs to come with me and separate herself from this world. She can’t stay here. Do you want to have conversations with her ten years from now? That’s what could happen if... Just help her out. Call the aunt. Find a home for the doggy.”
I closed my eyes. “Fine. I’ll try.” If it would make it stop. “Only this one time. Don’t send any more ghosts my way.”
She patted my arm. “I knew you would help. You’re a good girl, Portia. You’re a Mahaffey.”
Chapter 2
I kept my eyes closed and mentally whined. Why did I have to be born a Mahaffey? Why a bump on the head today of all days? Why did my first encounter with a ghost have to be with an overwrought dog lover? Why? I was hoping to slip off into sleep, but I heard soft sounds in my room.
When I opened my eyes to see a gorgeous man with dark hair, blue eyes and a killer smile standing at the foot of my bed, I had two thoughts. The first was: I hope this isn’t a dream. The second, which unfortunately I said aloud, was: “Please tell me you aren’t another ghost.”
He smiled as if I had said something witty. “Sorry I disturbed you.” He had a lovely voice, warm and baritone.
I smiled back at him. If he was a ghost, he was a nice change from Corinne. I wouldn’t mind being haunted by those eyes.
“I’m Portia.” It’s hard to flirt when you’re lying in a hospital bed.
“I know.” He tapped the chart he was holding and something clicked in my addled brain. Oh. White coat. Reading chart. “Are you my doctor?”
“I was the attending physician when they brought you into the ER. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Drat. “I guess I’m going to be fine.”
“I can see that.” He smiled again and my heart did a little flip that had nothing to do with my health. His smile lit the sterile room. “Do you mind?” He moved closer with his penlight and peered into my eyes. “Don’t blink.”
I tried to not blink and to look beautiful at the same time. It isn’t possible. I blinked like a nervous owl until he finally had to hold my eyelid open with a gentle finger. He had wonderful hands.
“Sorry about that,” I said.
“Not at all. You’re the perfect patient.” He sat on the edge of my bed.
Oh,