I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me, then pulled back to study his face. His jaw flexed a few times, like he was chewing on an angry tirade. Eventually, he managed to swallow the urge to yell and just asked, “Did you know, Mom?”
The guilt must have shown on my face, because he got tears in his eyes which struck me even harder. “Buddy, I can explain,” I started.
“Mom, you promised!” he practically wailed. “You promised no more ghosts!”
“And I meant to keep my promise,” I said, chivvying out of the doorway and into the foyer. The chill air raised goosebumps on my arms. “I didn’t know Darla stowed away until we’d already moved in.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed. “What did she attach herself to?”
God, he was smart.
Ordinarily, I loved that about Finn. In this case, he was too savvy for his own good. Now that he’d decided to be angry instead of terrified, I didn’t trust him not to do something drastic to Darla. But, I also didn’t think he’d be able to find the pencil case without help. I’d squirreled it away in the upstairs bathroom, dumping the hundred and twelve tampons from the economy-sized box into my underwear drawer, stashing the pencil case there, instead. I’d thought Darla was as safe as I could make her, for now.
But, I also knew better than to lie to my son. Firstly, he’d know I was lying and secondly, it just didn’t feel right.
“I don’t want to talk about that until we have another discussion first,” I answered.
“What conversation is that?”
“I don’t want you exorcising Darla. She’s not a bad… ghost, Finn.”
“All ghosts are bad.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. And Darla may be annoying, but she would never intentionally scare you.”
“She did scare me!”
Right. And I wasn’t sure how. “What happened?”
“I was showing McFly my Nerf guns, and she just appeared out of nowhere and started talking to him and kept calling him Oliver something. Then she started making kissy faces at him and doing this weird purring thing like she thought she was a cat.”
Why was I not surprised?
“Did Marty see her?”
“No. He can’t see ghosts.”
“Right.”
The mask of sullen, angry preteen melted away and Finn’s eyes were a little too shiny, his face too pale. “What if she accidentally brought Frank with her?” he whispered.
Now we’d reached the crux of the matter. Finn had tolerated Darla at the old house. Frank on the other hand...
“Frank is gone, Finn,” I said. “You know that.”
“Well, what if she somehow brought him back with her?” he pressed.
“Darla wanted Frank gone as much as you did,” I answered, remembering how frightened she was of Frank—almost as much as Finn was. “It’s just Darla here now. And I promise you she will never intentionally scare you.”
I watched Marty walk up behind Finn. He gave me a big smile and put a broad, calloused hand on Finn’s shoulder. Finn jerked at the contact, face going white as a sheet. He half-turned, as though expecting to find the poltergeist looming just behind him. He smiled when he realized it was just McFly. Marty hunkered down so he could be on Finn’s level.
“We’ve got our ghost hunting equipment, buddy. Even if we don’t use it to banish your ghost, we could still use it to detect any other phantom presences in the house. Would that make you feel better? To know there’s only one ghost?”
Finn nodded slowly.
I mouthed a fervent “thank you” over Finn’s head. Marty looked up at me and just nodded. Then he stood up and put his arm around Finn as the two disappeared further into the house and, distantly, I could hear the screechy sound of the ghost box. It sounded like they’d set up in the kitchen.
As I approached, I could hear two voices arguing. Okay, maybe arguing was too strong a word. An unfamiliar voice was mid-diatribe and Henner interjected mildly where appropriate.
“I swear I saw it!” Unknown man said, heat in his tone. He had a rumbling bass voice, like someone had strapped a subwoofer to his chest and set him loose to terrorize small children.
“I believe you, RJ,” Henner said, but even from here, I could hear the placating smile in Henner’s voice.
“I can tell you think I’m crazy.”
“All I’m saying is you should take other possibilities into account,” Henner continued.
“Which I have done.”
“It could have been a black bear, not necessarily a sasquatch. Bears stand on their hind legs if they feel threatened.”
“That’s all fine and good,” RJ continued. “But, the thing wasn’t black, Henner. It was brown. And don’t you dare say I saw a grizzly,” RJ finished hotly. “They don’t live in this state.”
“Bears can also be brown, cinnamon or blond and stand five to seven feet tall.”
“So what you’re telling me is you believe in ghosts, but not in Big Foot?” RJ demanded.
“No, that’s not what I’m telling you at all! Now stop shouting. You’re gonna scare Finn.”
We rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, Marty in the lead, me trailing at the end of the line, Finn wedged like the pastrami in our odd sandwich.
I found my kitchen in shambles, courtesy of the two men inside. Henner was crouched over the spilled innards of the ghost box again. It managed to look even worse this time, thick black wires trailing like octopus tentacles across my floor. The thing looked like it might scoot away of its own accord soon. Two red lights blinked in the center console like beady little eyes glaring in my direction.
In the distance, boxes holding all my kitchen implements continued to mock me. I still hadn’t even so much as researched general contractors, let alone hired one to start the job. I’d just been so busy lately, I hadn’t gotten around to it.
Yet, I promised myself. But, as soon as you can catch your breath, that’s your next to-do item.
Henner was holding two other gadgets, one looked like an EMF meter, and I wasn’t sure what the other one was.
A new man, who I could only assume was the mysterious RJ, had only his shapely posterior protruding from the interior of the oven. As he straightened, I saw the rest of him matched his strong backside and legs.
RJ was tall. Six feet and change and probably two hundred pounds or so. Slap a hard hat and a sleeveless top on him, and he could have made a killing as a construction-themed exotic dancer.
His shirt had three-quarter sleeves and showed off tanned forearms, covered in a layer of blond hair. He dusted his palms off, knocking a bit of filth free to float to the kitchen floor. Then he turned around to face us, and it was then that I realized he looked like he’d just stepped off a Viking ship from the middle ages. Square jaw, nice straight nose, big green eyes and a mane of thick, blond hair atop his head.
When he spotted me in the doorway, he smiled, bright and sincere. “Hello there! You must be Poppy.”
I took a step forward and held out my hand. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you!”
“I’m RJ,” he answered and then disregarded my outstretched hand as he wrapped his arms around me in the beariest of all bear hugs, lifting me off the ground as if I didn’t weigh a thing.