The Spirits of Christmas Page 2

  “Oh, where are you from?” Within seconds, they’d introduced themselves and were chatting, about the south, about Tassamara, about babies. The woman, Nora, was friendly but reticent. She seemed eager to talk about the town, reluctant to reveal anything about herself.

  “So how did you know I was pregnant?” Nora finally asked.

  Akira blinked, not sure what to say.

  “Oh, she thinks you came by to meet her because you’re both having babies. That would have been right nice of you,” Rose said, nodding approval.

  “Meredith mentioned it.” Akira felt her cheeks turning pink at the lie. She leaned forward, setting her half-empty mug on the table.

  “Meredith?” Nora questioned, taking a sip of her tea, long brown fingers wrapped around her mug.

  “Your realtor?”

  Nora shook her head.

  “Did you work with someone else from her office?” Akira’s voice didn’t squeak. In fact, she was pleased with herself for the calmness of her response.

  “I didn’t work with anyone,” Nora said, frowning.

  “How did you rent the house?” Oh, dear. Akira felt like she was digging a hole, deeper and deeper. Lying was always such a bad idea. Avoiding tricky questions worked so much better.

  “I . . . know the owner.” Nora’s words were careful, but Akira noticed how her fingers had tightened on the mug.

  Akira lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I guess I just assumed,” she said quickly. “It’s such a small town. Everyone knows everything. Have you had a chance to try the bistro yet?”

  Nora’s eyes were wary. “No, we haven’t gotten out much.”

  Toby had been leaning against her leg, listening to the conversation and watching Akira with a curiosity that she had been trying to ignore. Nora put a gentle hand on his head, stroking the dark fuzz as if it soothed her.

  “Maggie’s a wonderful cook. She makes incredible eggplant parmesan.”

  Nora’s answering murmur was noncommittal. She lifted her mug to her lips.

  “Good waffles, too,” Akira added with a smile directed at Toby.

  “She know da mean yady. And da pwetty yady. Da pwetty yady’s named aftah a fwower.” Toby suddenly volunteered.

  Nora’s mug jerked convulsively. “Is that what you were talking about?” she asked with pretended ease.

  “Uh-huh.” Toby looked up at his mother. “Da mean yady hit heah and it hurt,” he said in a whisper so loud that Akira was sure it could be heard down the street.

  “Okay.” Nora smiled down at him. But her eyes, when she raised them to Akira, shot daggers. “Why don’t you go find your trains, darling? I think Edward might have been in that last box I opened.”

  “Da one in da kitchen?” Toby asked, sounding hopeful.

  “That’s right.”

  With a jubilant, “Yay, Edward,” he pushed himself away from her and ran off.

  “How old is he?” Akira asked, hoping she sounded polite, not panicked. “He seems very verbal.”

  “Are you insane?” Nora’s whisper was much quieter and much, much angrier. “Bad enough that he imagines mean people living with us, but you go and tell him that the mean people hit you? Do you want him to have nightmares?”

  Akira opened her mouth. Then she closed it. Then she tried again. “That’s not what happened.”

  “Was he lying?” Nora sounded calmer, sadder, as if a ‘yes’ would be nothing more than she expected.

  Akira paused. Hell. She hated this. She glanced at Rose, who nodded encouragingly, and with a sigh, said, “No. Not really.”

  Nora set her mug down with a sharp thud. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your house is haunted.” Akira knew as soon as she said it that it was too blunt, that Nora wouldn’t react well, and she was right.

  Nora half-laughed and then her face hardened. “I don’t know how you found us, but I’m not stupid enough to fall for this. Get out.” She stood up.

  Akira didn’t move. “Hannah, the ghost who lives here, doesn’t want tenants,” she said, keeping her voice even with an effort. She hated this, hated it with a passion, and she was so going to yell at Rose when they got home. But she’d done these negotiations before. Once a ghost sucked her in to trying to help it, it was easier to just keep going.

  “About time you told her so,” Hannah snapped. Akira had successfully ignored the old woman’s complaints while she’d talked to Nora, but she’d been aware of them. Hannah was determined that Nora and Toby should leave.

  “Not helpful,” Rose muttered, looking worried.

  “Hannah?” Nora looked startled and then her lips firmed and she said, enunciating every letter, “Hannah can go to hell. And you can join her there. Get out of my house.”

  Akira blew out a long breath. For a moment, she sat and thought while Nora glared at her. And then she stood. Hannah hadn’t known Nora in life so no private information could convince her of the truth of Akira’s words. Without that, what did Akira have? Just Toby. And using the boy to persuade his mother that ghosts were real seemed unfair.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Hannah sounded angry and Akira glanced in her direction. Edges pink, but nothing to worry about. The ghost was nowhere close to losing control.

  “I don’t know how to convince you,” Akira said, turning away from Hannah and back to Nora. “But it’s a small town. If you decide you need me, ask anyone.”

  “I won’t need you.” Nora gestured toward the front door, scorn in every line of her body.

  Akira tried to smile. “You never know.”

  Once on the sidewalk, she sighed.

  “That didn’t go well.” Rose was right behind her.

  “The making friends part started off okay.” Akira kicked at a crack in the pavement, feeling gloomy. She’d never found it easy to make friends, but her ten minutes of casual conversation with Nora had been nice. The other woman had shown a natural warmth and wry humor that Akira enjoyed.

  “You need to tell her to get out,” Hannah hissed. She’d followed them out, too, and was standing next to Akira’s car. “I don’t want them here.”

  Akira’s eyes narrowed. She looked at the distance between the car and the porch, trying to measure how far apart they were. She’d assumed that Hannah was tied to her house in the way that ghosts who died untimely deaths tended to be. Was she wrong?

  “Why not?” she asked. “They seem as if they’d be good company. The boy can even see you.”

  “This house belongs to my son,” Hannah snapped. “No one else.” She crossed her arms over her chest, half hostile, half defensive at revealing so much.

  Akira refrained from rolling her eyes. “Your son has been trying to rent it out for at least a year,” she said, mustering all the patience she could manage. “Why can’t you be happy for him that he’s finally found someone to pay a few bills?”

  Hannah glared. “He hasn’t visited once. Not once. And I need . . .” She looked away, but Akira had already caught sight of the tears in her eyes.

  “Oh, hell.” Akira stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and hunched her shoulders. “You could leave any time, couldn’t you?”

  “I’m not going until I’ve said good-bye.” Hannah grated out the words through clenched teeth. “And…” She swallowed and said in a much smaller voice, “…and apologized.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Akira saw a flicker of movement at the window. She looked back at the house. Nora was watching them. Well, or her, anyway. Great. Not that their chance of real friendship had ever been high, but being seen talking to herself on the sidewalk couldn’t help.

  Still, it gave her an idea. “Okay, but you don’t need Nora and Toby gone. What you want is for your son to come home, right?”

  Hannah nodded stiffly.

  “Zane can find anybody,” Akira said with confidence. “You leave Nora and Toby alone and he’ll find your son. We’ll make him visit you.”

  “How will you get him here?” Hanna
h asked, her suspicion clear.

  “Leave that to us,” Akira said. “Do we have a deal?”

  Hannah pursed her lips. “Two weeks,” she said finally. “I’ll give you two weeks.” She pointed back at the house melodramatically. “After that, I will do my best to make her existence hell on earth.”

  *****

  Akira stared at where the ceiling fan should be. She couldn’t see it in the darkness but she knew it was there.

  It’s a natural process, she told herself. Women have been managing for thousands of years. She’d said that to Zane so blithely just a few days ago. But that had been about her body making the baby. Sure, it was a miracle, but it was an ineluctable miracle—her body would take care of the details without her.

  Raising a child, on the other hand, was a process consisting of innumerable daily decision points. Decision points that she had no idea how to make.

  It was stupid to be scared. There was no point. Like it or not—and she did like it, very much, or at least she had just a few short days ago—the baby was on his way.

  The thought was terrifying.

  “Rose, Rose.” Akira lifted her head. Had she heard someone calling Rose’s name? The sound was like a whispered hiss, at the very edge of her hearing. She listened, but it didn’t happen again. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

  She shouldn’t be lying awake worrying about her not-so-theoretical future child; she should be worrying about Toby and Nora. Finding Hannah’s son hadn’t proven as easy as Akira had expected. Zane’s gift worked best when he could touch an object that was connected to the person or thing that he was trying to find. Akira suspected it was some form of quantum entanglement. Unfortunately, he couldn’t touch a ghost.

  And Akira was very afraid that she’d screwed up. Maybe big time. Asking Meredith about the owner of the house had seemed like a logical next step. The realtor had to know how to get in touch with him, right? But Meredith had been surprised to hear that anyone was living there.

  The owner had had the house remodeled, planning to live in it himself. Apparently, he’d then changed his mind and posted it for rent over a year ago. Meredith had never managed to find a tenant.

  “Ever since the real estate crash, Florida’s got more houses than people. Even in Tassamara, some are always empty,” she’d told Akira. “And there’s something about that one. People just don’t like it. It’s a sweet little house, great light, top-of-the-line appliances. Seriously, I’d love to have that double oven in my kitchen. But I’ve shown it a dozen times and…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t even go inside.”

  Akira’d shrugged, feeling awkward. News traveled and most people in Tassamara knew she saw ghosts. Still, she didn’t like to talk about them. The absolute last thing she wanted was for her life to turn into an on-going episode of some ghost-hunting reality television show.

  “Huh,” Meredith said thoughtfully. She tapped a pencil on her desk. “But I haven’t heard anything from the owner about taking it off the market. Let me get in touch with him and get back to you.”

  “Can’t you just give me his contact info?” Akira asked.

  Meredith’s answer came after a long pause. “You’re about to marry the source of 70% of my business,” she said. “I will if you insist. But I’d rather not. Respecting people’s privacy—everyone’s privacy—is important to me.” She waited.

  Akira had gotten the message. It wasn’t a threat, not really. But keeping secrets was a two way street.

  “I’ll ask him to contact you as soon as he can,” Meredith added, more gently.

  Akira had had to accept that. But what if the owner hadn’t given permission for Nora to be there? Akira rolled over, snuggling closer to Zane.

  He was asleep, damn him.

  No, not damn him. She loved him. She did. She adored so much about him, including his calm certainty that everything would work out fine. She just wished some of that calm would rub off on it. She draped her arm over his chest and pulled herself closer.

  “Mmm?” he murmured a question.

  “Love you,” she whispered, feeling the undercurrent of desperate nerves in her own voice. What kind of mom would she be? She felt tears prickling the back of her eyes and furiously blinked them back. This was crazy. She was crazy.

  “Hey.” He shifted under her arm, turning to face her. The room was dark, but he reached a hand up, tracing it along her arm and shoulder until he reached her face. “Are you freaking out again?”

  “Kind of,” she admitted in a tiny voice.

  “Do you want the science lecture?”

  “Uh-huh.” She sniffled.

  “Pregnancy causes hormone production to increase,” Zane dutifully started. “Estrogen, progesterone, and human chorionic…”

  “Gonadotropin,” she prompted.

  “Right, that one,” he agreed, sliding his hand from her face down and around to her back so that his arm was around her. “All of them affect emotion. They’re making a nice, safe, nurturing place for Henry to grow, but the side effects are rough on you. It’s just chemistry, babe.”

  Akira’s eyes still prickled but her lips curled up nonetheless. All her life, science had been a refuge to her. People make no sense? That’s okay, because science does. Having Zane help her retreat into scientific analysis when she felt bad was… the tears spilled over.

  “Hey,” he protested, pulling her closer so that she was pressed against him. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

  “No, I’m happy,” she said through her tears. “That was—you are—I don’t know how I got so lucky. I—” She took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to hold back the full-fledged bawl that was impending.

  “Akira.” Rose’s voice came from right behind Akira’s shoulder. “I need you.”

  Akira rolled away from Zane, startled. “Rose!” she protested. “Our bedroom is supposed to be private, remember? We talked about this.”

  In the darkness, Rose stood above her, glowing. Not pink or red or the colors of upset ghost that Akira had seen before, but a steady gold light, shining like a halo outlining the teenage girl’s image.

  Akira quit complaining. “Wow.”

  “I need you,” Rose said again.

  “Tell me.”

  “Hannah’s here. She says something is wrong with Nora.”

  Akira was out of bed almost before Rose finished her sentence. “Come on,” she told Zane. “We have to go.”

  “Do I get to find out where?” he asked, voice dry, but he was already sitting up, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table.

  As he flipped the switch, light chasing away the shadows, Akira smiled at him. In a mood swing that was already starting to feel almost normal, she felt completely, serenely, intensely happy. Worrying about something she could immediately do something about was much better than worrying about a future that she couldn’t control. And as long as Zane was with her, everything would be fine.

  *****

  “Should we ring the doorbell?” she asked tentatively. Hannah and Rose had disappeared into the house, but she and Zane weren’t ghosts and couldn’t walk through walls.

  “As opposed to what exactly? It’s 2AM.”

  “Good point.” The porch was dark, but Akira felt around where she remembered the doorbell to be. She found it and pushed hard, then waited, tapping one foot anxiously. “If she doesn’t answer the door, what do we do? Call for help? Break a window? Keep ringing and hope someone wakes up?” she asked, throwing out possibilities as fast as she could think of them.

  Zane reached around her and put his hand on the door, then mumbled something grumpy under his breath, opened the screen door, and tried again. “Oh, clever,” he said with approval, holding the screen door open with his shoulder. “She must be tall.”

  “Um, yeah.” Akira watched, bemused, as Zane reached up to the porch light, high on the wall. He unscrewed the top, a bronzed steel square that sat firmly on glass walls, as if he were g
oing to change the unlit bulb inside, and lifted it off carefully. A key was taped to the interior.

  “How did you…” Akira started in wonder, before shaking her head and falling silent.

  “Locks and keys, they’re connected.” Zane started to pick at the tape before pausing, cocking his head to one side. “Sounds as if we don’t need it.”

  The light came on first. Akira forced a smile at the tiny circle in the door as Zane returned the top of the light to its base, leaving the key in place. She hoped Nora wouldn’t walk away in disgust.

  Rose popped out through the wall. Akira blinked hard, two, three times. Rose’s glow was even more intense than it had been. She was lighting up the darkness like a solar flare.

  “She’s sick,” Rose said hurriedly. “I don’t understand what’s wrong, but she’s pulling energy out of me like a vampire. She needs a doctor. Or a hospital. Or something.”

  “She’s pulling what?” Akira asked. She took a nervous step away from Rose. Spirit energy, even unusually pretty spirit energy, made her uneasy.

  The door flew open. “What are you doing here?” Nora glared.

  Zane’s hand dropped onto Akira’s shoulder, a comforting weight, as she stared at Nora. “You got fat.”

  Nora closed her eyes. “It’s the middle of the night. Why are you at my door?”

  “Hannah said—” Akira started, before stopping. “No, you’re fat.”

  “I’m pregnant. Pregnant women gain weight,” Nora snapped. But Akira ignored her. Nora had been rotund with pregnancy before, but more like a balloon halfway up a stick than a comfortably maternal cushion. Now, though, even her face was puffy and swollen.

  “She’s sick,” Rose whispered into Akira’s ear. “Really sick.”

  Akira nudged Zane with her elbow. “Call an ambulance.”

  Nora stared at her. “Are you insane? Are you—oh, that’s a stupid question. You think you see ghosts. You are crazy. You need help. Go away.”

  She started to slam the door, but Akira stuck her hand out and caught it, pushing against the wood and stepping forward and into the house. “What happened before?”

  Nora pulled herself up, but the hand draped across her mound of belly was more revealing. The brown fingers looked like fat sausages. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”