The Tidings - [Ghost Huntress 0.5 - A Christmas Novella] (10 page)

I certainly do, so I quote a little Dickens myself. (Mr. Rorek would be so proud of me.) “‘I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me.’”

Phantom Patrick bobs his head. “
Very
impressive.”

Coyly, I twist a bit and say, “I had to learn it for my oral exam. Got an A.”

“Of course, you did.” He escorts me over to the bed and turns the covers down for me. I climb underneath the blanket and smile up at him.

He blows me a kiss.

I catch it, and then I fall back into a deep, deep sleep.

S
TANZA 7:
T
HE
T
IDINGS

The alarm on my phone sounds its electronic beeps, alerting me that it’s nine a.m., so I slowly come into the land of the conscious.

I swallow hard and peel my eyes open, almost afraid of what I’ll see this time. Remarkably, it’s nothing more than Buckley, Eleanor, and Natalie all curled together next to me with cat tongues racing in a three-kitty bath-fest. The morning sun spills through my curtains, providing a golden pathway toward the door. My little pink and silver Christmas tree still burns brightly, representing so much more to me now than just a mere seasonal decoration.

My bed. My room. My tree. My cats.

It’s Christmas Eve. Radisson, Georgia. Present day. And, I’ll face it with a smile, cheer, and praise.

I scoop up the nearest kitty, Buckley, and kiss him on the crooked gray spot on his nose. “What a night! What. A. Night!”

Buckley loops his tongue out to swathe my cheek. Nothing like a kitty kiss to start the day.

I set him back down with his sisters and then spring out of bed. I rush over to the window to confirm that it’s my house, my yard, my Radisson outside. Nothing’s changed--yet, so much has.

I bounce downstairs where I find Mom making her famous orange cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, it’s not Christmas morning, yet,” I say, walking into the kitchen.

Mom laughs. “I was just making extras to take to the church for the pre-pageant party.” I give the plate of sweet gooeyness a come-hither look. “Just one, Kendall.”

I nab the closest one to me and waste no time taking a ginormous bite. “One is never enough,” I say with my mouth full.

As I finish chewing, I hear a shuffling behind me and turn to see Kaitlin standing there. Her hair is still wet from her recent shower and slicked straight in place. Without thought or reserve, I rush the few steps to her and hug her as tightly as I possibly can.

“Kai-Kai, I love you soooooo much!” I say, unabashedly.

I can tell she’s taken aback at first, then her thin arms surround me and hug back. “I love you, too, Kendall.”

We stand like that for a moment as Mom does everything in her power to quell her tears.

“I think the star soloist of the church’s Christmas Eve pageant deserves a breakfast treat, don’t you, Mom?”

She winks at both of us and presents two plates. “Cinnamon or orange?”

Kaitlin glances between us. “Whatever Kendall’s having.”

I drag an orange one off the plate and feed it to her. All three of us crack up laughing and it feels so… right. It doesn’t matter that our blood isn’t from the same place. Our love is.

“You are going to be amazing tonight,” I tell my sister. “I’ll be on the front row cheering you on. I’m going to Tweet and Facebook about it and let everyone know that
my
sister is the best singer in all of Radisson!”

She’s astonished and I love the depth of the smile on her face. “You’ll do that?”

“Oh, hell yeah!”

“Kendall,” Mom snaps. “Language.”

“Sorry,” I say with a laugh. “Heck yeah.”

“Don’t you have a lot to do today?” Mom asks me.

“I certainly do. But before I head over to the church, I need to make a very important house call.” I glance at my sis. “Wanna ride along?”

She ponders the invite and then stops herself. “I want to, but I’ve got to get ready and help Mom get my stuff together for the pageant.”

“No worries,” I say. “Another time. Anytime, in fact. I’ve got a car; I can drive you anywhere you need to be… school, soccer, or just to hang out. Okay?”

Kaitlin launches herself in my arms again and mutters into my chest. “Thanks for fixing my angel dress, Kendall. You’re the best sister ever.”

“So are you.”

“I’ll see you guys over at the church in a bit.” I run upstairs to dress, quickly reversing directions with my keys fisted in my hand. I have a full tarot card reading explanation that needs to be delivered.

ASAP!

The door opens, and immediately rosemary and sage attack my olfactory senses.

“Kendall! What are you doing here?” Suzanne Pilfer asks of me.

“Hey, Ms. Pilfer. May I come in a sec? I know you’re cooking, but I won’t keep you long.”

She steps aside. “Of course, dear. Come right in.”

I follow her back to the kitchen that is filled with every holiday food item possible. There’s no sign of trouble or duress, so I’m assuming Chandra didn’t lose her job, after all. It was only
one
possibility. “Are you making herb stuffing?”

“Yes,” Miss Suzanne says. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe and Max’s favorite.”

I shift from one foot to the other. “That’s why I’m here,” I tell her. “I have something to tell you about Max.”

Her face drops. “Is he okay? You’re not picking up some psychic vision, are you?”

I wring my hands together in front of me and muster up bravery to continue. “No and yes. When we did your tarot card reading, I had a premonition that Max is going to fall from his Christmas bicycle and the severity of the injury is going to bring on spinal meningitis that could really mess up his life.”

“Glorious and merciful Father!” Suzanne says in a gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now… but only as a safeguard.” I wet my lips and try to quaff down the lump in my throat. “I’m just a psychic and not everything I see comes to fruition. It’s a
possibility
, you understand. However, I had to tell you what I saw, if only to serve as prevention. Max is going to be wicked psyched about his bike—sorry, didn’t mean to rhyme—and I just want to make sure you guys explain all the safety precautions to him.”

“Of course we will, Kendall. Yes, of course.” I’m warmed by Suzanne’s assurance and know that I did the right thing coming here. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” she presses.

“I suppose I didn’t want to ruin your holiday with a mere hunch.”

Her smile brightens. “I’ll take your hunches to the bank any day, Kendall.”

“Thanks, Ms. Pilfer. Please give my best to Chandra and Max for me. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you and your family, as well.”

I leave her house and let out the pent up anxiety caught within my lungs. Hopefully, I’ve altered the present and the future for Max and his family.

Now, what about mine?

“Hey, baby!” Patrick says when he answers my call.

“You know I’m psychic, right?” I begin with a chuckle.

“As am I,” he says.

“So, I know you didn’t go to Belize to go diving.”

Silence.

Hush.

Shushies.

More silence.

Then a soft chortle. “Well, technically, I
have
gone diving. It’s just not my main purpose down here.”

“I know, baby. I think it’s amazing what you and your dad are doing for George and Joyce, working with Habitat for Humanity.”

I can almost see Patrick tossing his head back as the laughter pours out over the phone call. “Damn, you are good, Kendall Moorehead.”

I smile into the device. “That’s what I’m told. So, how much more work do you have to do on the house?”

He shuffles the phone a bit. “It was taking a little longer than expected, but then a crew from Seattle came in to join us two days ago. A guy named Randall and his two kids, Sam and Claire. Randall’s an electrician, so he was able to do stuff a lot faster than Dad and I could with just George and—”

“—did you say Sam and Claire?”

“Yeah, why?”

As in my possible future twin daughters? How could Patrick know that? Or was my dream a psychic bleed-over of my intuition of what Patrick’s experiencing?

“Kendall? What’s wrong?”

No need to explain something that hasn’t even happened. “Oh, nothing. I just like those names for girls: Samantha and Claire.”

“Well, Sam’s a boy.”

“Don’t you be flirting with Claire then,” I say with laugh.

Patrick’s voice softens. “I only have eyes for you.”

I pause and let the warmth of his words cover me in comfort.

“I love you, Kendall.”

“Love you, too. I wish you were here for the wedding tonight.”

“I know. Send Loreen and Father Mass my best,” he says. “I’m where I need to be.”

“Of course you are, baby.”

And it only makes me love him more.

The rest of the day is spent happily serving food to the needy of Radisson from the kitchen of the Episcopal Church. Pies, breads, casseroles, and hams are distributed with enough left over to feed the next town. I also manage to make a run to Farah’s grave to leave a fully blossomed poinsettia plant. I help Father Mass and Loreen—who wasn’t going to be bothered with the silly superstition of
not
seeing her groom before the wedding—put a gazillion white candles out on the altar and windows of the church for the pageant and the wedding. The platform of the living Christmas tree will easily break down after Kaitlin’s solo so the wedding can take place.

Father Mass’s mentor, Father Andrew Calder from the School of Theology at The University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee, arrives as we finish up tacking the bows onto the pews. Father Calder is going to be performing the wedding and bless the couple in their union and life together.

“I’m so happy for you, Massimo,” Father Calder tells his former student. “I assume since you’ve done hundreds of weddings yourself, we don’t need to have a rehearsal?”

Mass laughs a bit nervously. “We’re good, Father. It’s just Loreen and Kendall on the bride’s side and my brother, Raffaele, may not even make it.”

“Why’s that?” Father Calder asks.

“Snow in Boston shut down Logan Airport last night. A lot of canceled flights, but he’s doing his best to get here.”

“I’ll pray that the weather cooperates,” the priest says.

Loreen grips Mass’s arm and she looks up at him. “He’ll make it, hon.”

“I’m glad you have confidence,” my priest says.

“Do you need a best man back up?” I ask.

Mass thinks for a second. “I’d say Patrick if he were here.”

“Someone call my name?”

I nearly faint dead away when I see my handsome boyfriend, tanned from his time in the Caribbean, saunter down the aisle of the church with nothing but me in his sights.

“What? How? Where?”

Patrick scoops me up into his arms, up off the floor, and spins me around. He puts me down and kisses me softly, but firmly. “I caught an early flight back to surprise you. I had to be here for the wedding after all Loreen and Mass have done for us.”