“No worries,” I said. “Take your time getting settled. We’ll go see to the dogs.” I met Jack’s eyes as we turned in tandem and walked quickly to the kitchen, where the back door stood wide open. I followed Jack out the door toward the sound of the yapping dogs, to where they stood by the cistern, growling like three avenging cotton bolls at the spot where the old kitchen house once stood. Their ears lay back, their usually plumed tails trailing between their legs. Beau stood next to them by the wrought iron fence, staring in the same direction as the dogs, his toolbox at his feet.
Jack and I reached Beau in time for me to see the long skirt and almost transparent form of a teenage girl slowly evaporate like steam over a pot, the wagging tail of an almost invisible dog soon following. I stooped to pick up General Lee, who had begun to whimper, and held him close to my chest.
“Did you see that?” I asked Beau.
He faced me, his light brown eyes cool and clear. “See what?”
I stared at him, waiting for him to tell me he was joking, because I recognized his expression. The look of denial I’d seen in my own reflection many times. “Never mind.” I picked up Porgy while Jack hoisted Bess, who, despite being the same age as her brother, was a good five pounds heavier. “We’ll let you get to work.”
Jack and I returned to the kitchen and put the dogs down at their bowls, which Mrs. Houlihan had already filled, then headed toward the foyer to speak in private. “What was that all about?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure. He definitely saw the same thing I did—the girl and dog Nola and I saw near the grandfather clock the other night. But he denied it.”
“Should I be worried?”
I shook my head. “Louisa likes him. She opened the door for him and told him to go upstairs. I don’t believe he knew he was talking to a ghost.”
Jack met my eyes. “So why did he deny seeing the girl and her dog?”
“I have no idea. But I’d like to find out. I’d also like to know more about his parents. The woman with the wet footprints might be his mother, and I’d like to know why she’s still here.”
Jack’s phone beeped and he looked at it. “It’s from Desmarae. I need to take this. She probably has some more brilliant marketing strategies for me, like adding aliens or action heroes.”
“And I guess I need to go back to my prison.” With exaggerated slowness, I headed up the stairs.
“Mellie?”
I stopped. Turned. “Yes?”
“Earlier—upstairs in the bedroom. That might have been almost kiss number six.”
“It would be. If you believed in do-overs.”
“If I believed in do-overs.” His phone buzzed again. “Maybe I’m starting to.”
He turned around with the phone to his ear while I stared at his back and felt the old and new versions of myself play tug-of-war. Melanie Version 107 must have won, because I found myself marching down the stairs toward Jack. I reached up and pulled his head down to mine, cutting him off in midsentence, and kissed him the way I used to kiss him, the way I still did in my dreams. Jack pulled me closer, kissing me back, and I knew he was remembering, too.
I pulled away and looked into his startled eyes. “Maybe I do.”
I turned around and climbed the steps in as dramatic an exit as I could muster wearing a fluffy robe and slippers.
CHAPTER 19
I staggered from my car toward the house after work the following day, in desperate need of sweet hugs and kisses from my children and a long, hot soak in the tub. Even the Tupperware container of homemade lemon bars I’d brought back from the office didn’t make up for the two lucrative listings Catherine Jimenez had secured the previous day while I’d been stuck in bed. She’d managed this while also coaching her daughter’s volleyball team and packing care packages for our troops with her DAR chapter. And, apparently, baking homemade lemon bars. I needed to attach a surveillance camera to her perfectly ironed lapel to see how she did it, although I was now fairly certain that she’d managed to clone herself.
I stopped in front of my house, sure I was at the right place only by the sight of Harvey’s red Ferrari once again parked partially in the street and blocking the sidewalk and driveway. The yard had the appearance of a circus. People moved about furiously, shouting and talking over one another while the sprinklers spurted water and all the house lights turned on and off in sync with the loud music pulsing from somewhere inside the house. I paused a moment to appreciate the familiar chorus to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” before returning my gaze to the front yard and trying to make sense of the pandemonium.
My attention was caught by a flash of Ashley Hall plaid near the red Ferrari. I spotted an apoplectic Harvey Beckner, his face the same shade as his car, screaming expletives at Nola and her two friends, Alston and Lindsey. Nola stood slightly in front of the other girls, taking the brunt and not just a little spittle flying from Harvey’s mouth.
I ran toward them, the Tupperware acting as a possible battering ram as I approached.
“What are you doing?” I said, the lemon bars and I stepping in between Harvey and the girls.
“They vandalized my car!”
“We didn’t do anything,” Nola said, trying very hard to hold back tears. She wasn’t a crier, nor was she used to being screamed at. “We were just watching the filming and he started screaming.” The last word caught in her throat.
“Hold these, please.” I handed Nola the container of lemon bars while giving her a sympathetic look so she’d understood that I believed her. Then I turned to Harvey so I could play nice. “Show me what you think they did.”
With an accusing glare at the girls, he led me to the front of the car, then pointed at the windshield. Even though the temperature now hovered in the low sixties, starbursts of snowflake-shaped ice spread across the glass. Scratched into the frost were what I thought at first to be random letters.
I moved to the side of the car so I could get a better look at the windshield. I leaned forward to touch it, then jerked back at the burning sensation of frostbite and the sudden realization that the frost was on the inside.
Rubbing my hand, I looked at Harvey. “Don’t you keep your car locked with the alarm on?”
“Of course I do! Do you think I’m an idiot?”