Resurrecting Harry (17 page)

Trying to free her arm, she pulled harder but refused to look his way. “You and Martin have walked similar paths; you’ve both lost loves and found a way to free your heart. But Harry and I weren’t like most people. I can’t forget—”

“Never forget, Bess. Just live for now.”

She acquiesced, twisting to him. “How do I start?” In her eyes, Erich saw a meek step of surrender. Tiny, like a baby’s step, but a huge leap toward his goal.

“With the automobile.”

Her body slumped. “I don’t understand how that will help.”

“Let me get it running and teach you to drive. You’ll see that you can treasure the memories of your life with Harry, while building new ones. Besides, won’t it be easier to run errands and volunteer at the hospital with the car?”

She tipped her head, and her chest expanded and fell with a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“I’ll get started right away.” Her consent gave him another victory, but instead of joy, regret tapped at his heart. Bess hadn’t agreed because she wanted him to do this, she’d just caved to his bullying. He could spin it though, right? She’d be happy when they were together on the road, living out the fantasies she clung to for a long life with Harry.

She had to be, he was running out of ideas.

***

As hard as Bess tried, she just couldn’t concentrate on the book in her hands. It was just too damn quiet. Funny. When Harry was alive, she used to long for a moment of peace or a day of rest. After he was gone, the silence drove her mad.

With Erich in the house, she was reminded just how much space another person could fill. Just his presence erased some of the loneliness.

Hearing Joseph on the stairs, Bess set her book on the end table and rose from the chair. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping peacefully. You’ve done a fine job caring for him.”

“I’m surprised at how fast he’s recovered. He was out of bed most of the day.”

Joseph left cheek scrunched up. He seemed perplexed as he pulled the strap of the large, canvas bag over his head and let it drop to his shoulder. “Pushed too far, perhaps. He fell asleep so quickly. I didn’t have to give him anything for pain when I changed his dressing.”

“Are there any special instructions?”

He pulled from his canvas tote a brown, paper bag no bigger than the size of his fist and handed it to her. Even though it was taped shut, she could smell licorice. “More root tea, brew him a cup four times a day.”

“For the infection?”

“It will help that too, but licorice root helps build strength. Don’t wake him tonight, but start with breakfast in the morning.” After a quick pause, he continued, “I went to the Cooper estate and fought the new lady of the house to retrieve the root from my garden. Mrs. Cooper assured me it would be the last time I would be allowed on the property, so use it with care. I won’t have any to spare for quite some time.”

It struck Bess odd to hear Joseph call Gail Martin’s
new
wife. They’d been married ten years. With three children, they could hardly be considered newlyweds. “I wasn’t aware you had a garden on the estate.”

“I planted some herbs on the border of Louise’s Seaside Daisies. Now that I’ve been officially banished from her home, I’m sure the new lady will make it her top priority to turn over the gardens and erase the last remnant of Louise ever living there.”

She and Harry had only become acquainted with Martin after he married Gail. Still, since Harry’s death, Martin sometimes spoke of his Louise and Bess didn’t miss the fact that the same reverence showed in Joseph’s eyes that resided in Martin’s. “I wish I had known her. To hear you and Martin speak, she was a remarkable woman.”

Joseph’s hands curled at his side. “What would Martin know? He wasn’t the one who cared for her while she was ill. He wasn’t there when she took her last breath.”

“I know that he regrets that.”

Joseph laughed and shook his head. “He didn’t even let the seasons change. He just brought that harlot into Louise’s home. I don’t know how her soul found its ever-after peace, when he treated her memory with such disrespect.”

Bess found Joseph’s display extreme given the time that had passed, but also knew he wasn’t the only one to judge Martin and Gail for the way they treated Louise in her last months. “He’s told me more than once how good you were to her.”

“I cared for Louise because it was the least she deserved, not for any gratitude or payment from Dr. Cooper.”

“Regardless, he’s thankful, just as I am for your care of my friend.”

“An interesting choice of words.” Joseph’s smirk didn’t escape her attention.

“You suggest a better one?”

Leaning back on his heel, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “My grandmother used to say there were two kinds of lovers. The ones who spent a single lifetime together — joined because of proximity and physical desire. Then there were the older souls — the ones that couldn’t be denied. The fates could separate them on different corners of the planet, and they’d move Heaven and earth to be one again.”

This was not the first time Joseph had insinuated that she and Erich were lovers, despite how hard she’d worked to maintain a respectable decorum with her house guest, especially in the company of others. If she didn’t set him straight now, Joseph might be gossiping about her to others with same disgust he used when discussing Martin and Gail. She drew in her cheeks and felt her shoulders tighten. “If there is one thing I know for sure it’s that I have only loved one man, not Erich Welch.”

Joseph tipped his head in a way that would make you believe he accepted her statement, yet the slight dimple to his cheek told another story. God help her if the rest of the world could see her lust so clearly.

“Death only happens to the physical, Mrs. Houdini. It what’s encased inside the body that lives on and continues seeking love. But you know that. You’ve chosen to give that spirit that is trapped in between existences a home here.”

“Harry was always stubborn, when he’s ready to move on he will, but if he’s not, I’m not sure either of us could push him to his next life.” She couldn’t deny the peace that flowed through her, easing the tight muscles in her back and jaw. The idea of Harry’s soul not only continued on, despite what he had believed in, but was staying close to her raised hope. The upcoming séance just might bring her the closure she needed.

Joseph sought the same thing, she sensed. One look in his eyes told the story that she had missed in all their other conversations. Louise Cooper meant something to him. And not in the way a doctor grows fond of a patient or the way a friend cares for another, but deeper, as a lover. In the very same way her heart had already come to think of Erich. For the first time, she could picture her future including another
man.

But not until Harry let her go.

Bess found it easy to slip from the house before Erich could ask her too many questions. All she had to do was hand him a cup of medicinal tea and point him toward Harry’s automobile. It was where he’d spent the last three days from sun up to sun down, and he happily crossed the yard, not even pausing to ask where she was headed at such an early hour.

At the time, it seemed best to keep him in the dark about her little chore, just as she had the day before when she’d met Gail for lunch and a séance rehearsal. Now, she stood outside the newspaper office and reread the words scrawled on the paper in her hand, questioning whether or not this was the best move.

The words “séance,” “Harry Houdini” and “$10,000 reward” jumped at her. The advertisement she planned to place in the paper this week announced the location of the Halloween event and revealed Gail Cooper as the medium. The perfect publicity stunt, and she knew Harry would be proud of her. There was no better way to fill an auditorium than to have his arch nemesis calling him home.

So why was she hesitant to place the announcement? Was it because she knew Erich would accuse her once again of chasing ghosts? Or did it go deeper than that?

“Is everything all right, Mrs. Houdini? You look troubled.” Bess shook off the murky thoughts, surprised to find Joseph standing in front of her.

Was she really so transparent? Harry used to praise her poker face, claimed it was one of her greatest assets to the act. Turns out, he must have taken that with him too when he left. Crumpling the paper, she pushed it into the pocket of her skirt with a sigh. “I need to tie up the loose ends for Harry’s séance, but I’m still unsure that I’m doing everything the right way.”

“Mr. Houdini would disapprove.” Joseph didn’t ask a question, but stated his opinion as fact— and with such conviction that for a brief second Bess trusted him.

“No, I’m sure he’d be pleased. The séance was his idea. I just want everything to be perfect. It would mean the world to me to speak to him again, but I’ve been so distracted.”

“The most important element will be your spirit guide. You need someone who truly possesses second sight.”

She startled, drawing in a breath. “Gail never mentioned second sight.” Neither had the numerous books she read.

“Communicating with the spirit world is a gift. Either you are blessed with the ability or you’re not. It can’t be learned in a book or accomplished with practice.”

If Joseph had meant to comfort her with those words, he’d failed. “Do you truly believe if I am not a spiritualist, Harry will never be able to speak to me?” As the realization began to sink in, her stomach twisted into knots. Maybe that was why, no matter how hard they’d tried the day before, Harry had refused to speak. The séance meant very little to her in the grand scheme of things. It was just another of Harry’s shows. What she’d hoped and prayed for — had been working so hard for — was just one more moment with her other half. She wanted to feel him with her in the same way that Joseph claimed to.

She wanted to let go of the past and move forward, but without Harry’s blessing that was impossible. She could only get that from him performing his greatest escape. If she failed this time, her loyalty had to remain with Harry. After all, she’d given him her vow.

She began to sway, and Joseph took her elbow. “I did not say you’re without second sight, Mrs. Houdini. All I said was it cannot be learned.”

“Gail told me that like with any skill, practice makes perfect.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “That woman is a cretin. She no more possesses the ability to communicate with the other world than your husband did.”

Tears pushed against her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. Harry used those same words to describe Gail, and she’d suspected her husband was right, but to hear it from someone so close to Gail and Martin made her feel more foolish.

“What do you hope to gain from this?” Joseph asked.

She wrapped her arms tight around herself.  No matter how many times she was asked, she’d stick to Harry’s script. “I promised Harry I’d protect his legacy and honor his fame. That’s why it’s important to have a real medium for the séance. Can you do it?”

Joseph’s eyes opened wider, and his brow perked up. “Me? I…yes. I could...but Mrs. Houdini…”

“Please. It would mean so much to me.”

“I wish I could.” Sorrow clouded his eyes. “But it’s time for me to go back to the life I lived before Louise, and I can’t risk any more anger from Dr. Cooper.”

Bess swallowed and pushed away the tears pushing against her eyes. “Of course, Joseph. I understand. Forgive me for asking.”

He patted her arm. “Don’t apologize. I’m honored you’d ask.” He paused to cough. “But...What about...There is a professor that Dr. Cooper used to associate with. Her name is Dr. Wickerland, and she might prove helpful to you. She’s said to be very good.”

The séance was fast approaching. The last thing she wanted to do was get to know another spiritualist. If she couldn’t convince Joseph, she’d have to stay with her first decision — Gail. “Are you sure
you
can’t. I’ve grown to trust you.”

“I am sure. There is another option. You could let go of the past and the dead.”

“And turn my back on Harry?”

Joseph gripped her hand tight, and his eyes locked with hers. Once brown, they turned into deep, black pools. She averted her gaze to keep herself from falling into them, but couldn’t ignore the words he spoke. “The dead walk among the living. Harry’s soul breathes in the most unexpected places. How he feels can find its way to your heart without a medium to translate.”

Though he’d stopped speaking, his stare was fixed on the wall behind her, only an empty shell stood in front of her.

“Where? How?” Bess shook his shoulder. The words whisked past her lips, caught up in her breath. She must have heard him wrong. Harry walk among the living? Even if she believed in zombies or some such nonsense, she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

But what if she was wrong and he was right? Was that something she could risk?

The man startled and took a step back. “Yes, yes. Dr. Wickerland. She would be a very good choice.”

“Joseph. Please! What did you mean by ‘Harry’s soul breathes?’”

The man’s cheeks paled, and he shook his head, “You must have misheard me, Mrs. Houdini. Why would I say such a thing?”

“But you did! You said ‘the dead walk among the living. Harry’s soul breathes in the most unexpected places.’”

“The spirits, Mrs. Houdini — the restless ones who haven’t found the final rest — they are the ones someone with second sight can speak to.”

“You’ve said more than once that Harry’s soul is not at rest?”

“I don’t believe it is.”

She shook her head and waved her hands in front of her face, fighting off the tears that again threatened to spill. She’d heard him right, but now he was twisting the words.  Did he feel that threatened by Martin? Or had she just witnessed some sort of possession? Had it been another’s words that fell from Joseph’s mouth? Harry’s perhaps?

What nonsense would she think of next?

Her thoughts flipped to the Ouija board and the spiritualist books Gail had loaned her, and a veil of shame covered her. Harry would be so disappointed. If he were here he’d snap his fingers briskly and tell her the time for moping had passed.

Everyone she knew thought she was on a dead-end road: Will, Martin, and now Joseph. Even Erich had encouraged her to release the past and embrace a sketchy, foggy future. Not one of their opinions really mattered, though. Harry may not want her to wallow in pain, but his instructions had been clear, and it felt so wrong to push forward or even entertain a future with Erich until she fulfilled her obligations. Besides, Harry knew what it meant to chase a dream and wasn’t that what she was doing, following her heart back to him?

One last conversation. The real good bye they’d been denied eleven months earlier.

***

Erich slid his hands over the steering wheel and imagined he was cruising down some out-of-the-way road with Bess at his side and the wind blowing through the open windows. Reaching to the passenger side, he imagined his hand falling to her knee instead of the cool, leather seat he’d just finished cleaning. One more day and he could make his daydream a reality. He’d go into town the next morning and get what he needed to fix the brakes, and then he and Bess could start creating memories of their own.

Memories that would make her see they could be happy together.

Stepping out of the car, the strong licorice scent hit his senses reminding him he’d have to keep Bess away or cover it up somehow. If she found out he’d been dumping the tea behind the shed instead of drinking it, he’d soon know the chill of a New York winter again.

As he walked toward the house, the offending odor faded and Bess’s cooking filtered through. He could almost taste the meal he knew she prepared with care and walked with a full stride. Only an uncomfortable twinge pinged in his side every so often, proving he was on the road to recovery and Joseph’s tea had little to do with it.

In the kitchen, he resisted the urge to kiss Bess’s cheek and went straight to his report. “The car is almost done. All that’s left is the brakes. I’ll go into town for some fluid and pads in the morning. After that, I can take you for your first driving lesson.”

Bess didn’t look at him, but reached to the back of the stove, picked up the salt shaker and sprinkled some into the pot. “Our arrangement called for you to do home maintenance. That automobile has stolen all of your attention for days.”

Erich knew she’d reluctantly agreed to him working on the car, in part, to get out of the conversation, but he hadn’t realized she was this upset. “You told me I could work on it.”

“I know, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard too soon, but there is still a long list of repairs the house needs.” Her words might have been terse, but her voice was toneless.

He rolled the events of the last day and a half through his mind. What had he done to deserve this icy reception? He stepped back and from the corner of his eye saw the box sitting by the back door. Inside was the Ouija board, several books and candles. “Did something happen in town?”

She shook her head. “Dinner is ready. If you want to eat it hot, you’ll have to forgo your shower until afterward.”

He acknowledged her with a single nod and washed his hands in the kitchen sink as she filled two bowls and took them to the table. He had no doubt she was lying. She hadn’t given him eye contact once, and her shoulders slouched as if they held the weight of the world. “Don’t shut me out. I thought we’d forged some kind of friendship here.”

She pivoted back to the stove, taking the direction that kept her gaze away from him. “I’m just feeling melancholy, I guess.” Returning to the table with another mug of that god-awful tea, she took a seat and looked at him for the first time. “Come now, I didn’t fix this dinner for you to stand there and let it get cold.”

He took his seat, still dumbfounded by her cool attitude. The stew looked good, but he couldn’t smell anything over the bitter tea and wrapped his hand around the mug, pushing it across the table.

Her head jerked in his direction. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t need it anymore. I’m feeling much better.”

“You feel better because it’s working. You promised me you’d follow all of Joseph’s instructions.”

Frustration. Anger. Stress. He couldn’t put his finger on what was lacing her voice, but didn’t want to aggravate the situation any more. If it would lift this dark veil from her, he’d endure one more cup of tea. He closed his eyes tight as if that could ward off the taste assailing his tongue and swallowed. “I don’t like seeing you in such a mood. What’s wrong, Bess?”

“Time. There’s never enough of it, but I’m under even more pressure than usual to prepare for the big show.”