Tug of Attraction (24 page)

“It’s friggin’ cold out there,” isn’t it?” Yvonne said. “I imagine Ethan doesn’t like working in this weather.” 

She tried to sound casual. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably not.”

Myranda rolled her eyes. “Still pretending you’re not together?” Then she strolled over and rubbed the sleeve of Brigit’s old blanket. “Nice coat! Is this the one you were talking about making?”

“Yeah. I think it came out pretty well, considering.”

“Considering nothing,” Yvonne said. “It’s beautiful.”

“You know I made this out of an old blanket, right?” Brigit asked.

“Even better.” Yvonne joined Myranda who was still admiring the colorful coat and how she’d matched the stripes on the seams.

“Myranda. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Myranda grinned. “Probably.” She softened her smile for Brigit. “Could you be persuaded to make one for me?”

“But I only had one blanket like this.” 

Myranda chuckled. “I can give you the material. It’s the pattern I’m interested in. I’ve seen coats like this, even on non-pregnant women. It’s a style. What’s it called? A swing coat?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“I love it.”

A customer came into the store, followed by a couple of spirits. Brigit took a step back as if she needed to make room for everyone.

Myranda must have noticed. “Welcome. Did you want a reading?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

Yvonne chuckled and pointed to Myranda. “Mrs. Psychic knows all.” She sounded like a side-show huckster and made a spooky noise.

Brigit was glad she wasn’t reading the woman—or more specifically that Yvonne wasn’t promising an all-knowing ability she didn’t have.

“How long did you want? Fifteen minutes? Half an Hour?”

The woman smirked. “You tell me.”

“Oh, cripes,” Myranda mumbled under her breath. Then she turned to the woman with her full-watt smile and said, “How about a half hour? I don’t have another appointment until ten thirty.”

“How much is it?”

“Sixty dollars.”

“Yikes! That’s too much. How much do you charge for fifteen minutes?”

“Exactly half. Thirty dollars.”

Brigit did the mental calculations and figured out Myranda was making one hundred and twenty dollars an hour.
Must be nice.
She suddenly understood why she wasn’t willing to take a chance on her staff being less than experienced professionals.

“I’ll take the fifteen minute reading.”

The woman followed Myranda into one of the private rooms in the back. One of the spirits went with them. Unfortunately, the other one kept staring at Brigit. She tried to ignore the male spirit until he went away, but he didn’t leave.

She pulled out her mobile phone, but the battery had died. “Uh, Yvonne, can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure.” She handed her the cordless phone and Brigit punched in Ethan’s home phone number.

She was relieved when he answered on the third ring.

“Are you busy?”

“Not really. I have to stay nearby in case I get a call, but I don’t have any jobs scheduled until tomorrow.”

“Perfect. Can I come over?”

“Please do.”

She could hear the smile in his voice and her calm began to return. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Great. See you then.”

When she hung up and handed the phone back to Yvonne, the sales clerk winked.
“Now
will you stop pretending you and Ethan aren’t an item?”

She felt a little foolish. “Okay, fine. Trying to keep secrets from psychics is a pain in the ass, anyway.”

Yvonne laughed.

Brigit made a hasty exit, expecting the spirit to stay behind.

He didn’t.

He walked right beside her, glancing over from time to time. She couldn’t wait until he either went away, or she could get inside Ethan’s place...where talking to herself wouldn’t land her in a nut house, and she could finally
tell
the unwanted spirit to go away.

When she arrived at Ethan’s Court Street address, she used the antique brass knocker. It was shaped like an anchor and fit her lover to a T. He was quickly becoming her anchor in every shit-storm.

Ethan opened the door and smiled. She couldn’t help smiling in return, no matter how uncomfortable her hitchhiker was making her feel.

“It’s great that you came by,” he said. “I have something to give you.”

“Really?” She couldn’t imagine what he’d be giving her. It wasn’t Yule or Christmas yet. She felt badly that she hadn’t brought him anything but a pesky spirit. On his way to the kitchen, he stopped and turned around.

“Charlotte just said we have an intruder.”

“Yes.” Brigit pointed to the male spirit with her thumb, knowing Ethan couldn’t see him. “Where is Charlotte? Maybe she can help.”

Charlotte came into view from the stairs. The male spirit looked at her and took a step back. Perhaps they respected each other’s
haunts
. His clothing was from another time, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the seventeen hundreds—Charlotte’s era. Even so, she doubted they knew each other.

Ethan looked at her strangely. “Are you okay, Bridge?”

“Not really. I couldn’t wait to get here so this guy would leave me alone. I figured if he didn’t get lost along the way, maybe he’d leave once I got here and asked him to.”

Charlotte held up her hand as if to say, “Stop. Her mouth continued moving, but too fast for Brigit to lip read.”

Ethan approached Brigit. “I can hear Charlotte, and you, of course, but no one else. You’re saying there’s another spirit here?”

“Yes. It looks like they’re communicating with each other, although they’re just starting at each other.”

“Huh. Well, maybe we should leave them to talk—or whatever, and you can come into the kitchen with me. That’s where I left your present.”

“I can’t imagine what you’d be giving me.” Actually, she could. She hoped it wasn’t some big-ass diamond ring that she’d have to refuse. Despite everything her stepfather had done, they hadn’t crumbled to the pressure—yet. They agreed to keep on dating, but not to do anything permanent until and unless they were good and ready.

He handed her a cell phone.

“What’s this?”

“I thought it would be fairly obvious. It’s a phone.”

She stuck a hand on her hip and frowned. “I know that, smart guy. What’s it for? I have a cell phone.”

“But you never answer it. I’ve called you a few times. Either you’re mad at me, or it’s not working.”

“Oh.” She grinned sheepishly. “I mostly use the land line, and I forget to charge my cell for days.”

“I figured that might be it. I also bought you a charging pad. Just lay it on top of that when you get home and pick it up before you walk out the door.”  I’ve programmed my cell number into it and added
facetime
so we can see each other.”

“You didn’t have to get me a whole new phone.”

“We had to have the same kind in order to use facetime.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Well, no. That’s not true.” She threw her arms around his neck and said, “Thank you.” She punctuated her appreciation with a hard smacking kiss.

He grinned. After a brief hesitation, he said, “I wonder what our ghost guests are up to.”

“Has Charlotte been quiet?”

“Very.”

“Let’s go see. Actually, I’ll see and you can listen.”

#

B
rigit made her way back to the living room while tucking her new charging pad and iPhone into her tote bag. When she glanced up she stopped so suddenly, Ethan bumped into her.

“Oh, sorry. What do you see?”

She giggled. “Charlotte making out with our stranger spirit.”

“Hell, Charlotte’s pretty strange. I don’t know if we can handle anyone stranger.”

“Hey! Keep your nasty comments to yourself. I was just comforting this poor, poor man.”

“Sorry, Charlotte.” Ethan chuckled. “At least you’re talking now. What’s up?”

“His name is Enzo, and he has unfinished business.”

“What kind of unfinished business?” Ethan glanced at Brigit who seemed to be concentrating intensely on the air in front of her.

“His body was dumped in a shallow ditch. He believes he needs a decent Christian burial before he can go to heaven.”

Ethan mumbled, “Boy, did he come to the wrong place.”

“Why did you say that?” Brigit asked him.

“You couldn’t hear Charlotte or read her lips?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’m not catching on to the whole medium thing as quickly as I’d like.”

“Well, you haven’t been trying for very long either. You probably just need practice.”

“Hey! Spirit in anguish over here...”

“I don’t think he’ll die if he waits a minute or two for us to get back to him, Charlotte.”

“Wow,” Brigit exclaimed.

“What did she do?”

“Put it this way, if looks could kill, she’d have two spirits to make out with.”

Ethan snorted. “Yeah. Like that’s gonna happen.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, Charlotte. Tell him to give us the whole story. I’m not sure if we can help or not, but we’ll hear him out.” 

“Thank you.”
A different voice spoke. Lower and softer than Charlotte’s voice. Ethan wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear the guy at all, but apparently he could. At least when the spirit wanted to be heard.

“My name is Enzo Pairetti. I was making ale after the civil war.”

“Could you read his lips, Bridge? He’s pretty soft spoken, so I doubt you heard him.”

“Yeah. You’re right, but he’s speaking slowly enough that I can read some of what he’s saying. He said ‘My name in Enzo Bear Eddy and he was making hay after the Civil War.’”

“Uh...Okay. Continue, Enzo.”

Brigit crossed her arms. “That’s not what he said at all, is it?”

Ethan smiled. “You got a few words right.”

She threw her hands in the air. “I’m a terrible medium! You’re a better medium than I am.”

Ethan wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a side squeeze. “That’s not true at all. Spirits seek you out. They trust you. I wouldn’t be talking to Enzo if you hadn’t brought him here.”

“I didn’t bring him. He followed me.”

“Hey! Does anyone want to help this guy besides me?”

“Oh,” Brigit said. “Charlotte’s waving. Apparently she wants our attention.”

“See?” Ethan said. “By ourselves we’re only partially effective. Together we make a whole medium.” He turned to the ceiling. “And you can just wait a couple of minutes, Charlotte.”

Ethan waited and didn’t hear Charlotte respond, but Brigit was giggling.

“What’s she doing?”

“What isn’t she doing? She’s kicking you in the shins, and bonking you on the head.”

“In other words, being her usual patient self.”

“Yes. Charlotte, it’s okay. We’re ready to give it another try.”

Charlotte sighed in relief. “He really needs your help. How is he supposed to rest unless someone finds his body and...well...a priest or something to say a few words over it.”

“So we don’t have to dig him up? He just needs a priest to help him to the other side?” Brigit responded correctly. Ethan was relieved that she seemed to be getting the hang of it. He really couldn’t offer to sit at Myranda’s shop and be audio half of a medium.

“She’s consulting with Enzo,” Brigit said.

“That’s great, Bridge. You’re doing great.”

“She’s nodding. Oh! I can read her lips.”

“He said that’s fine. He wouldn’t want you to see him as he is anyway. Apparently some burrowing animals made their home in him.”

“Ewww...” Brigit’s expression suggested she understood that part too. Suddenly she grew pale and said, “Excuse me,” and ran off in the direction of the bathroom.

Ethan sighed. “I feel for pregnant women. No wonder the Goddess gave them a nurturing instinct. Who would go through that voluntarily without some kind of overriding need?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s a saint.”

Ethan chuckled. “No. Closer to a goddess.” He gazed after her, unsure of what he was feeling. Sympathy? Regret? His feelings didn’t matter anymore. The deed was done.

* * * *

T
he coven was meeting for Yule. The full moon was about a week away and they usually saved their important spells for the maximum power of the full moon. But the waxing moon was good for spells directed at growing things. A business. A relationship. Or in Brigit’s case, a new life. She was ready to “come out” to her coven members who might not know she was pregnant—although it seemed like most of them did. She still wasn’t ready to mention that Ethan was the father. Not until she cleared up the little manner of Hanna’s not wanting mated partners in the coven.

She needed to talk to him about that too. Hopefully they’d be able to find a quiet corner and chat privately before the ritual got going.

When she entered Hanna’s suite, she was greeted by the warmth and cheer of her second home. A small fire was crackling in the fireplace. The actual Yule log was decorated with greens and berries, and proudly occupied the center space on the altar. A punch bowl sat on the kitchen island along with the Bewitching Bakery’s red velvet cupcakes, plum pudding, and a rolled cake decorated like a Yule log...all confections that made her mouth water.

Right now Ethan was talking to Rebecca and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she tried to pretend not to notice him. 

“Brigit!” April exclaimed. “Adorable coat. Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” she announced, proudly.

Several of the early arrivals turned to check her out. She was greeted with more compliments. Celestia and the girls from the spa crowded around her. Celestia rubbed the sleeve between her fingers. “It feels like an Indian blanket from Peru.”

“It was.”

“That must have been hard to sew,” April said.

“I was able to rent an industrial sewing machine. It’s a new thing people are doing. If they have something they don’t use all the time, they’ll rent it out. That way they can make a few bucks and their item gets some use instead of sitting around gathering dust.”

“Ha,” Isabelle said. “I should rent out my treadmill.” 

Lana kept staring at it. “It’s beautiful. I’d totally wear something like that.”

Myranda grinned. “I talked her into making one for me. Oh, and I brought the material for you, hon. Don’t let me forget to give it to you.”