Melissa stopped and flushed. “I guess I’m preaching to the choir,” she said.
“It’s fine. I think your enthusiasm’s wonderful,” Leslie assured her truthfully. She liked Melissa, loved her enthusiasm. She just had to get the girl to treat her like any other normal person.
“Can you imagine, though, everything that must have happened in this place? With all the battles, all the fires, can you believe that it never burned to the ground? Even a modern-day explosion…oh, God. Sorry. There I go again.”
“Melissa, just relax. Please.”
The coffee was finally ready. Leslie poured two cups as Melissa stepped anxiously to her side.
“They’re all worried about you, you know.”
“And they don’t need to be.”
“Everyone says you and Matt were like a fairy-tale couple. So in love and—oh, foot in mouth again.”
“I love him very much, and I like being here because I can think about him. I’m fine. I’m coming—I’ve come to terms with losing him. It’s okay if you talk about him—it’s how we keep those we loved alive.”
Melissa was silent for a moment as Leslie added cream to her coffee.
“Do you see him?” Melissa asked then.
“What?”
“They say that you…well, that you have some kind of ESP,” Melissa said gravely.
“They’re wrong,” Leslie said. She wasn’t lying, she told herself. It sure as hell wasn’t ESP that she lived with every day.
“Really?” Melissa sounded disappointed.
“Sorry.”
Melissa sighed and sipped her coffee. “Honestly…I’d dreamed of being here with you and finding out that the place is haunted by a soldier from the Revolution, someone who died for his country.”
“Tell you what. If I do come across a ghost, I’ll be sure to get a good story from him—or her.”
Melissa flushed.
“Seriously, I’ll look into it. There are some great stories associated with this house. Did you know it was an Underground Railroad stop on the way to Canada during the Civil War? And it doesn’t stand all that far from where the slave market was set up in 1711 at the foot of Wall Street.”
“It got its name because the Dutch really did build a wall there,” Melissa said. “I know that because I’m going to be a guide, but I guess you know it, too, huh?”
“Well…yes,” Leslie admitted as diplomatically as she could.
“I’m not scaring you away, am I?” Melissa asked.
“No,” Leslie assured her. She glanced at her watch. “But I do have to get over to the site.”
“Lucky you.”
“Hey, we’ll work on your future, okay? You’ve got the love and commitment, and those are the most important things.”
“You think?”
“I do. But right now I need to get going.”
“Don’t you eat? Wow. That must be why you look like a twig.”
“Doughnuts on the job,” Leslie assured her.
“I wish I could eat doughnuts.”
Leslie arched a brow, wondering if there was a right thing to say at such a moment. “Um, I had a bad year.”
“I gain weight when I get depressed,” Melissa said sadly.
“Maybe we can get together and invent special sugar-free doughnuts,” Leslie suggested.
“Cool.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“You bet. Unless you get home early tonight. Honestly, I haven’t scared you into avoiding me, have I?” Melissa asked anxiously.
“No, I think you’re very nice.”
“Thanks!”
“Sure.”
Leslie set down her cup and started out. Halfway along the hall toward the entryway, she stopped and stared. A man and woman in Colonial dress were entering, chatting with each other. They stopped and stared back at her.
“Hi.” She strode forward, offering a hand. “I’m Leslie MacIntyre. You must be Tandy and Jeff.”
“You got it. Hi,” Tandy said. She had bright eyes, appeared to be a very attractive forty or so, and made a perfect Martha Washington. Her wig and hat fit well, and she looked completely authentic in the wide skirt and apron. The man was tall and lean, and also wore his wig naturally. They really could have been George and his missus.
“Miss MacIntyre, a pleasure,” Jeff Green said.
“Thanks so much. I’m glad to get to meet you both, but I hope you’ll excuse me. I’m running late.”
“Of course. Hope we get to see more of you later,” Jeff said.
“I hope so, too.”
As she escaped, she could hear Jeff asking for coffee and Tandy excitedly asking Melissa what “Miss MacIntyre” was like and had they talked to any ghosts yet?
As she got closer to the site, she realized that hurrying was going to do her little good. Once again, there was a crowd around the gates. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to press her way through it.