band
leaving a concert with groupies chasing after them. There stood
Johnny right in the thick of the young women, grinning like an
idiot, while the girls threw their arms around him, kissed him,
ripping at his clothing, and bared their breasts.
While she did feel a twinge, the pain wasn’t
nearly as strong as expected. She did not throw herself down and
sob into her pillow. Oddly, a sense of relief washed over her. He
was there, she was here in this delightful, spooky old
house—strangely enough, right where she wanted to be. Maybe she
didn’t love him any longer, just like he didn’t love her. Maybe
their love had died a long time ago. She turned off the laptop,
ready to sleep. But in the dark, she swore she heard the faintest
of footsteps on the third floor stairs.
A tremor shot through her. She called
Tunney.
“I hope you don’t want your money back
already.”
He yawned into the phone.
“I’m calling because…because…is the house
haunted?”
Tunney let out a roar of laughter.
“Seriously, Tunney…come on…” She chewed her
lip.
“You’re joking! If the house was haunted,
I’d charge you an entertainment fee. No, the house isn’t haunted.
Why? Are you seeing ghosts?” he chuckled.
“Hearing them. Sounds like someone creaking
up the stairs, opening doors…”
“I’ve never heard anything. But I haven’t
slept there in years. Old houses make funny noises…you know when
they cool off at night.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you scared?”
“A little…” she lied, petrified.
“Oh, come on. Really? You’re scared of the
house?”
“Of what else might be living here.”
“Do you want me to come over and hold your
hand while you fall asleep?”
“I couldn’t ask you to…” But she liked that
idea.
“Don’t think your husband would like that
much. How about if I talk to you for a while. Get comfortable, in
the bed.”
“Okay.” She got back into bed then pulled
the covers up, curling up on her side keeping the cell phone at her
ear.
“All right. Let’s talk about something not
too taxing.”
“How about politics?” She punched her pillow
into a comfortable position.
“You’re joking!”
“I am.”
“How about…how about plans for the
future?”
“Oh, God. I don’t…I don’t have a lot of
plans for the future.”
“No? You gonna have more kids?”
“Not now,” she said, blushing. Of course
not now, not by myself.
“Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to get pregnant
long distance.”
His soft chuckle came through from the other
end of the phone.
“No kidding. Do you want to have kids,
Tunney?
“Sure. Someday. With the right woman.” He
cleared his throat.
“Tell me about your plans for the future.”
she said, stretching out, closing her eyes.
Tunney talked about his building business,
vacations he wanted to take and within ten minutes, she had drifted
off to sleep.
* * * *
Through the open curtains, the sun nudged
Kit awake early. She turned off her cell phone and smiled recalling
Tunney’s kindness the night before. Padding downstairs to make
coffee, she noticed the house didn’t sound scary when the sun
shone.
After putting on work clothes, Kit cleaned
the first and second floors. Finding her favorite corner in the
parlor, she set up her writing place with her laptop and a
comfortable wing chair. Kit curled up on the sofa for a coffee
break. She scoured sites about renovating old houses for
information about styles, traditional colors used in homes of the
period, reading about the history of the era, too.
Her mug empty, Kit turned off her machine
and headed to the kitchen. The insistent tinkle of the doorbell
interrupted her. She swung the old door wide to admit Tunney. Her
gaze swept over him. He wore a snug t-shirt outlining his broad
shoulders and powerful chest to perfection. Close-fitting jeans
hugged his hips and thighs. A curious heat swept through her body
when her eyes stopped at his chest. Moving up her gaze met his.
leaving a concert with groupies chasing after them. There stood
Johnny right in the thick of the young women, grinning like an
idiot, while the girls threw their arms around him, kissed him,
ripping at his clothing, and bared their breasts.
While she did feel a twinge, the pain wasn’t
nearly as strong as expected. She did not throw herself down and
sob into her pillow. Oddly, a sense of relief washed over her. He
was there, she was here in this delightful, spooky old
house—strangely enough, right where she wanted to be. Maybe she
didn’t love him any longer, just like he didn’t love her. Maybe
their love had died a long time ago. She turned off the laptop,
ready to sleep. But in the dark, she swore she heard the faintest
of footsteps on the third floor stairs.
A tremor shot through her. She called
Tunney.
“I hope you don’t want your money back
already.”
He yawned into the phone.
“I’m calling because…because…is the house
haunted?”
Tunney let out a roar of laughter.
“Seriously, Tunney…come on…” She chewed her
lip.
“You’re joking! If the house was haunted,
I’d charge you an entertainment fee. No, the house isn’t haunted.
Why? Are you seeing ghosts?” he chuckled.
“Hearing them. Sounds like someone creaking
up the stairs, opening doors…”
“I’ve never heard anything. But I haven’t
slept there in years. Old houses make funny noises…you know when
they cool off at night.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you scared?”
“A little…” she lied, petrified.
“Oh, come on. Really? You’re scared of the
house?”
“Of what else might be living here.”
“Do you want me to come over and hold your
hand while you fall asleep?”
“I couldn’t ask you to…” But she liked that
idea.
“Don’t think your husband would like that
much. How about if I talk to you for a while. Get comfortable, in
the bed.”
“Okay.” She got back into bed then pulled
the covers up, curling up on her side keeping the cell phone at her
ear.
“All right. Let’s talk about something not
too taxing.”
“How about politics?” She punched her pillow
into a comfortable position.
“You’re joking!”
“I am.”
“How about…how about plans for the
future?”
“Oh, God. I don’t…I don’t have a lot of
plans for the future.”
“No? You gonna have more kids?”
“Not now,” she said, blushing. Of course
not now, not by myself.
“Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to get pregnant
long distance.”
His soft chuckle came through from the other
end of the phone.
“No kidding. Do you want to have kids,
Tunney?
“Sure. Someday. With the right woman.” He
cleared his throat.
“Tell me about your plans for the future.”
she said, stretching out, closing her eyes.
Tunney talked about his building business,
vacations he wanted to take and within ten minutes, she had drifted
off to sleep.
* * * *
Through the open curtains, the sun nudged
Kit awake early. She turned off her cell phone and smiled recalling
Tunney’s kindness the night before. Padding downstairs to make
coffee, she noticed the house didn’t sound scary when the sun
shone.
After putting on work clothes, Kit cleaned
the first and second floors. Finding her favorite corner in the
parlor, she set up her writing place with her laptop and a
comfortable wing chair. Kit curled up on the sofa for a coffee
break. She scoured sites about renovating old houses for
information about styles, traditional colors used in homes of the
period, reading about the history of the era, too.
Her mug empty, Kit turned off her machine
and headed to the kitchen. The insistent tinkle of the doorbell
interrupted her. She swung the old door wide to admit Tunney. Her
gaze swept over him. He wore a snug t-shirt outlining his broad
shoulders and powerful chest to perfection. Close-fitting jeans
hugged his hips and thighs. A curious heat swept through her body
when her eyes stopped at his chest. Moving up her gaze met his.
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