I can’t help it. The words tumble out all by themselves. “When you went camping, did anyone see a ghost?”
Aunt Mayda bursts out laughing. “Oh, Vannie, that old tale.”
My heart is pounding. “What do you mean?”
“Whenever we camped out, my cousins, Steve and Perry, went into their routine that a ghost was watching us. Of course they were only teasing.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Certainly, I’m sure. Don’t tell me you’ve seen a ghost at Merrymount Gardens.”
I drink some water and it goes down the wrong way. I cough and Aunt Mayda thumps my back. Then Robby pounds my back until I yell at him to stop.
“It’s my friend, Tammy,” I say. “She’s real interested in ghosts.” It’s true enough, so I’m not exactly lying.
“Invite Tammy to the children’s Halloween party we’re putting on this year. In fact, the two of you can help decorate Greystone.”
“Tammy will love that,” I say. “She thinks Greystone must be haunted.”
Aunt Mayda puts her hand over her heart. “Trust me, it isn’t. Nothing dramatic or tragic has ever happened at Greystone except…” She stops suddenly.
“Except what?” I prompt.
“I want to go to the Halloween party, too!” Robby pipes up all of a sudden. “I need a new costume.”
“If we have time, we’ll look for one tonight,” Aunt Mayda tells him.
Robby lists all the costumes he may want, then he lists all the costumes he definitely doesn’t. I watch Aunt Mayda give him her full attention and wonder if she was about to tell me about her grandfather’s death.
Our salad comes, then our main course. There’s so much food to eat, Robby hardly touches his chicken. He dozes off as we drive to the mall. I’m full too, but I’m looking forward to shopping.
We get Robby pants, shirts, underwear, and socks in the boys’ department. He tries on three pairs of sneakers before he declares he wants the first pair, after all. Then he turns cranky big time and keeps saying he wants to go home.
“I think we’d better,” I tell Aunt Mayda.
We practically have to carry him to the car. “I’m sorry, Vannie,” Aunt Mayda says as we drive home. “I see I tried to fit too much into one evening.”
“It was fun,” I tell her, and I mean it.
“Let’s go shopping ourselves next week,” she says. “Girls’ night out.”
I grin. “I like that idea.”
The car hums along as Aunt Mayda follows the curves of the road with ease. “I’m glad you’re living here,” she says when we turn into MG. She laughs, sounding pleased and embarrassed at the same time. “Now, when I come back, it feels like I’m coming home to family.”
Impulsively, I reach over and put my arm around her shoulders.
“When did you move away from Merrymount Gardens?”
“After my junior year of college. The year my parents died.”
It’s too awful. I gulp in air. “Both of them?”
“My mother was sick and died in the winter. My father was in a car accident three months later.”
“Oh, Mayda,” I say.
The back of her hand touches my cheek. “Your mom helped me through it all. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
We ride the rest of the way in silence, thinking our own thoughts about Mom. We’re both bleary-eyed when we pull up in front of the cottage.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As soon as we arrive, Daddy comes flying out to the car . He’s clearly agitated about something. He lifts Robby from the back seat and carries him to his room. “Vannie, please put Robby to bed,” he calls out to me as he ushers Aunt Mayda into his office.
I stick out my tongue at him, then I help Robby undress. He wakes up long enough to put on his pajamas and crawl under the covers. “My action figures,” he mumbles.
“You must have left them in the car. I’ll get them.”
Robby’s eyes close again. I figure he’s asleep, when he asks, “Vannie, do you think Theodore’s mad at me ’cause I left him?”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I’m sure Mrs. Peterson feeds him.”
“She doesn’t. She chases him away. She told me so when I went looking for him with Kevin.”
“Go to sleep, Robby. Theodore’s a good hunter. I bet he finds plenty to eat.”
Robby’s half asleep but he’s smiling. “Don’t worry, Theodore. I’ll take care of you.”
I kiss him good night and close his door, leaving it ajar the way he likes it.
From Daddy’s office come the sounds of his ranting and fuming. He’s mad because some big-shot goldsmith who demanded that Daddy give him the best location—which he did even though he’d promised it to someone else—has come down with pneumonia and can’t make it to the craft show, after all. I swear, my father is one big baby, carrying on how people always leave him in the lurch the last minute. The man has pneumonia, for heaven’s sake. The one I feel sorry for is poor Aunt Mayda, who is doing her best to calm Daddy down.
Outside, the stars give enough light so I can make out the booths that have been set up on the Big Lawn rising well beyond our cottage. I can’t decide how I feel about the craft fair since my opinion keeps changing, depending on my mood. Sometimes I hate the idea that hundreds of strangers will be roaming around MG as if they have every right to be there, which they do. Other times I’m excited about having a big event in my own back yard. Especially since I’m going to help out at the ticket booth or the food area, whichever place needs me more.
I sniff in the night air, tangy with the scent of the first fallen leaves. My eyes are drawn to the bright lights of Greystone. I’m glad Aunt Mayda’s staying there tonight. It makes me feel less lonely.
Robby’s action figures are on the back seat of the car where he left them. I pick them up and turn back to the house. Then I have a better idea. I leave the action figures on the hood of the car and head for the road.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”
Even though I was hoping to meet Archie, I jump at the sound of his voice.
“I swear, Archie, the way you sneak around could give a person a heart attack!”
“I don’t sneak around,” he says stiffly. “Merely come and go.”
“Appear and disappear is more like it. Anyway, I’m glad to see you.”
“Really?” He seems pleased. “Do you have time for a stroll?”
“A very short one.”
We head for the duck pond. I’m perfectly at ease, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world to be walking along with a tall, skinny ghost in a tuxedo.
Natural, but funny. I start to giggle.
“And what is so terribly amusing, may I ask?” Archie asks.
“Oh, nothing. Everything.” I’m suddenly in a good mood.
“Did you enjoy your evening out with Mayda?”
“Sure. We had a great time. She told me about her childhood.”
“Did she mention her grandmother?”
I nod. “She was your wife.”
“My beautiful Elizabeth. What did Mayda tell you?”
I hesitate, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. But the naked hunger in his face spurs me on to tell him everything I know.
“Mayda said she never stopped grieving for you. And because she was always sad, your son, Mayda’s father, grew up to be a sad person, too.”
Archie nods. “I loved them both so very much and caused them endless unhappiness.”
“Because you died?” I ask, incredulous.
“Because I died a foolish death.”
“I read about it in an old newspaper in the library.”
“How did it happen?”
I stare at him amazed. “Don’t you remember?”
When we get to the pond, I sit down on the bench. Archie paces before me. Finally he stops and stares out at the water as he speaks.
“I never knew for certain. I remember chasing the thief outside, then falling, feeling pain in my head, then—nothing. Afterwards, I had no sense of anything except the overpowering need to return to Merrymount Gardens because my wife and son were here.”
“But why do you call it a foolish death?” I demand. “You were doing something heroic.”
“I was doing something stupid. Elizabeth warned me. She’d had one of her premonitions—the same dream three nights in a row—that something bad would befall me if I left the mansion after dusk the day of Christopher’s party. She made me swear on his head that I wouldn’t leave, no matter what happened.”
I gasp. “Oh, Archie.”
“I forgot my promise when she screamed from upstairs that someone had taken the sapphire necklace I’d given her to celebrate our son’s first birthday. I saw a figure dart out the side door and I took chase.”
Now I understand. Archie blames himself for making his wife and child unhappy, and the only way he can atone for his “foolish act” is to see that Mayda’s married, whether she likes or not. I shake my head in disbelief.
I suddenly remember something I’ve been wanting to ask him. “If you were married to Archie’s grandmother, why isn’t Mayda’s name Heatherton like yours?”
“Because I took the Shipley name. It was a request her father made of me when we were betrothed. Elizabeth was his only child, and the Shipley name would have died out if I didn’t agree. I was happy to do so, though I still think of myself as Heatherton.”
I smile. “Thanks for answering my questions. I’m finally getting the picture.”
“Did you find out if Mayda has a young man?”
“A young man? Oh, you mean a boyfriend. No, I don’t think there’s anyone she’s interested in right now.”
“But there must be someone.” I hear the anxiety in his voice. “Didn’t you say she had a social engagement last week?”
“She went to the movies with another lawyer. Mayda says he’s just a friend.”
“That’s too bad.”
I peer at him in the dark, puzzled by his disappointment. “Why, what does it matter? Mayda’s happy the way she is.”
“You’re too young to understand! Mayda needs a home filled with a husband who loves her, and children who adore her. She’ll make a wonderful mother.”
I shrug, not wanting to argue with him. “How do you know that’s what Mayda wants, Archie? She doesn’t even like to cook.”
“You must see that she’s a wonderful woman.”
“Oh, I think she’s terrific.” I roll my eyes. “Though she’s clueless when it comes to her clothes and her hair. Frankly, she could do with a total makeover.”
He sniffs. “I would hope any decent man has enough good sense to appreciate Mayda’s intelligence and generous nature. Your father appears to value her.”
“Daddy?” I look at Archie in surprise. “He just needs Aunt Mayda as his sounding board. He probably forgets she exists the second she leaves the room.”
“It’s time to go, Vanessa.” Archie’s tone is stern as he starts to fade.
I’ve offended him, but I can’t imagine what I’ve said wrong. “Please don’t be mad at me,” I call after his translucent form. “How can I find you if I want to talk to you?”
“Think of me and call my name. If I can, I will appear.”
I’m relieved that he doesn’t sound angry anymore. “Good-bye, Archie.”
“Be kind to Mayda,” are his last words, and he’s gone.
*
I enter the cottage, wondering what excuse I can make up for having stayed outside so long, only no one seems to notice I’ve been gone. Daddy and Aunt Mayda are still chattering a mile a minute. They’ve moved to the kitchen where, miracle of miracles, Daddy is serving tea and cake.
“Hey, Vannie, want a cuppa?” he calls out, cheerful and happy. Whatever Aunt Mayda said has calmed Daddy down. The latest crisis is over.
“No, thanks,” I answer.
I leave Robby’s action figures on his night table where he’ll see them in the morning and go up to my room. I close my door. My head’s brimming with everything I’ve learned tonight from Aunt Mayda and Archie.
The poor guy is trying to atone for his wife and son’s sad lives by doing what he can to make sure Mayda’s happy. Which, according to Archie’s old-fashioned mind-set, means getting married and having children. I know he wants me to help him, but how? I shake my head. He can’t possibly expect me to find a husband for Aunt Mayda.
I change into my pajamas and bathrobe. Someone knocks on my door. I open it and there’s Aunt Mayda.
“I came up to say good-night.”
“Thanks for everything, Aunt Mayda.”
“My pleasure. Remember, we have a shopping date. How’s Wednesday night? I think I can leave the office early.”
I suddenly remember the chicken recipe Archie gave me the other evening. “Come around six. I’ll make dinner.”
“You don’t have to bother, Vannie. We’ll eat at the mall.”
“Oh, but I want to. And you don’t have to worry. The friend who gave me the recipe said it’s easy to make and I can’t go wrong.”
Before she can ask which friend of mine cooks, I stretch out my arms and we hug goodnight.
“See you tomorrow,” Aunt Mayda and I say at the same time. We laugh, pleased with ourselves, as if we’ve done something special.
CHAPTER NINE
The day of the craft fair starts out okay. Actually, better than okay because of Daddy. For the first time since Mom got sick, my father wakes up in a great mood. His humming fills the kitchen as he sets out our breakfast. Robby and I look at each other, but we don’t speak. We don’t even smile. We’re afraid to break the spell.