WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Viva La Valentine Edition (25 page)

Thankfully, her parents took the hint, kissed
her goodnight, and left her alone.

Still fully clothed, she climbed between the
sheets, pulled the covers up to her chin, and turned off the light.
Darkness enveloped the room. She shivered beneath the heavy down
quilt and waited for her grandpa to appear.

Nothing, only the sound of her parents
upstairs, getting ready for bed.

Rolling onto her back, she stared into the
darkness and tried to relax. But with every breath she took, her
anticipation grew until she could stand it no longer.

“Gramps, are you there?” she whispered into
the dark. A flash of white lit up the center of the room and she
bolted up in bed, the covers clutched to her chin, her heart
thundering in her chest.

“So you finally believe I’m real?” the ghost
of her Grandpa George asked as he dragged the old armchair over to
her bed and sat down.

Certain she was awake and not hallucinating,
she stared at him.

“Close your mouth, bumpkin, and let me tell
you the story of how Elvira and I met. Back in 1933, I was just a
wee boy of six….”

Two

Amanda woke to a knock at the bedroom door
and the sound of her dad’s voice. “Amanda, it’s your father.”

Sheesh. It felt like only a few moments since
Grandpa had left and she’d finally fallen asleep.

Gramps?

With a start, she sat up and looked around
the room, her rabid gaze landing on the armchair. Sure enough, it
was beside her bed instead of over in the corner where she’d first
seen it.

Her dad knocked again. “I’m opening this
door, so make sure you’re decent.”

With a groan, she pushed the pillow against
the headboard, scootched back on the bed, and when the door swung
open, the light from the hallway shone into the room. “What time is
it?”

“Almost noon. I didn’t want to disturb you,
but your mom insisted. She’s making your grandma’s wedding cake and
she’s got a list of things she wants us to do today.”

Amanda forced enthusiasm and a smile into her
voice. “Great. That’s why I’m here.”

“I’ll make us a nice lunch —”

“Don’t bother, Dad. I’m not hungry.”

Tom glanced over his shoulder toward the
staircase. “Don’t let your mother hear you say that. She always
worries you’re not getting enough to eat.”

“I gained ten pounds when I was here at
Christmas. I hardly think she needs to worry about whether or not I
eat.”

“Then come upstairs and eat so I don’t
worry.”

“Let me just wash my face and brush my teeth
first.”

“Don’t take too long. Your mother is running
in twelve different directions at once and she’s got me spinning in
circles after her. There’s no rest with that woman.” The frustrated
tone of his voice softened and he huffed out a sigh. “Don’t make me
come back down here to get you.”

“I won’t.”

As he shut the door behind himself, Amanda
forced herself out of bed and looked down at the clothes she still
wore from yesterday. They were wrinkled from sleeping in them, but
until she found out what was on her mom’s list, there was no point
in a shower and fresh clothes.

One glance in the mirror confirmed she looked
as bad as she felt.

“You’re insane anyway so who cares?” she
muttered at her reflection.

“You should care, bumpkin.”

Startled, Amanda whirled around.
“Gramps?”

He came through the wall like it wasn’t even
there, the fuzzy image of his camouflage colored toque catching her
attention first.

Not a figment of her imagination.

As the blurred outline of his body appeared,
and he stepped into the slice of sunlight coming through the tiny
basement window, she pinched herself.

Not a dream.

Even though her legs shook with the urge to
run, she stood her ground and fear morphed into anger. “Gramps, why
are you here?”

“I told you last night, bumpkin.” He laid his
right hand against his chest as though he’d been mortally wounded.
“You must talk to your grandma. Convince her she’s making a
mistake. Morty can’t be trusted.”

Amanda glared at the white glow shimmering
around his familiar form. “You’re not my grandfather. You’re a
ghost. Crap, just leave me alone.”

“Don’t swear, bumpkin.”

“That’s not swearing.” She gave a determined
tug on the bottom of her sweatshirt, stepped around him, pulled
open the door, and headed upstairs.

In the porch, she noticed the yellow can of
whipping cream by the back door, and as she headed up to the
kitchen, saw her mom standing at the cupboard, stirring a bowl of
batter. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, honey. Look who stopped in to
say hello.”

As Amanda stepped into the kitchen, she
tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and stared at the man
sitting at the table with her dad. With nowhere to run, she took a
single step back. “Dad, you didn’t tell me we had company.”

Her dad twisted on his chair to face her. As
soon as he saw her ratty sweatshirt, with the gravy stain down the
front, and the baggy sweats she’d worn on the trip from the city,
his warm smile evaporated. He turned back to his guest. “She, uh,
usually looks better than this.”

“Looks just like the Mandy I remember.” Dane
Weatherby, Morty’s grandson, unfolded his big body from the kitchen
chair and over six feet of hunky man stood before her. His familiar
green eyes were filled with laughter and something else. Something
that looked an awfully lot like affection. “All you need is a box
of Valentine chocolates to complete the image of the adorable girl
I remember.”

She made a face. “Ha ha and hello.”

He moved toward her, his broad shoulders
shifting the bulky material of his winter coat. A slow, easy, sexy
smile turned up the edges of his mouth as he grinned down at her
and held out both arms. “Give me a hug, your Grinchness.”

Mesmerized by the memory of their friendship,
Amanda stepped against his chest and he closed his arms around her.
She inhaled the scent of man and aftershave, and desire sizzled
through her body.

Oh no.

Amanda pushed out of his arms.

He rocked back on his heels, seemingly
unaware of her sudden retreat, his gaze flicking over her. “It’s
obvious I came at a bad time. Should I go?”

In unison, her mom and dad turned to him.
“No. Stay for lunch.”

Dane stared at Amanda and Amanda stared back,
and all of a sudden it occurred to her that he was waiting for her
permission.

Her gaze swept down his lanky length, taking
in the breadth of shoulders beneath his winter jacket, the easy
stance that suggested a confidence he hadn’t had back in high
school. They’d both been shy, leaning on each other to get through
the awkward years of adolescence. Best friend forever.

The beeper on the oven sounded, breaking the
tension between them, and her mom opened the oven door and adjusted
the cooking racks. “Dane is Morty’s best man.”

“Nice. My date.” Amanda smirked up at him.
“Just don’t expect any side benefits.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Side benefits?”

“Just kidding, Dad.”

Dane leaned forward slightly and she caught
another hint of warm, delicious male. “So are you still on the
anti-Valentine kick?”

“Definitely, so don’t be bringing me any
heart shaped chocolates or diamond rings.”

The rich sound of his laughter filled the
room and sent another sizzle through her body. As she flushed, she
caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny surface of the toaster,
and swallowed back a groan.

What with the way she was dressed and the
fact that she hadn’t showered, she was pretty sure the attraction
was all one sided. She forced herself to frown up at him. “Well, it
was great to see you again, Dane. I was — uh, yeah, that’s it —
headed to the shower but I ran out of soap. I’ll just continue on
with that and see you at the wedding.”

Her mom closed the oven door and stood up,
her face flushed from the heat. “Actually, you’ll be seeing a lot
of each other. Your grandma has a list of things to do before the
wedding and Dane has been kind enough to offer his help.”

Before she could open her mouth to object,
the shadowy form of her grandpa took shape before her. He took a
swing at Dane, but it passed through his body. “Morty, you stay
away from my woman.”

Without thinking, Amanda said to her grandpa,
“This isn’t Morty.”

The room turned silent and Amanda looked back
at Dane. He was staring down at her with a perplexed expression on
his face. When he spoke, he enunciated each word like she was a
stupid child. “I’m. Dane. Remember?”

Beside Dane, her grandpa George appeared
confused until he tugged off his glasses, held them up to the
light, and squinted through them. “Damn things. I told the eye
doctor I needed a new prescription.”

“Good grief, this is embarrassing,” she
muttered to herself.

Her grandpa nudged her in the shoulder. “Tell
him you object to the wedding and you won’t allow it.”

Dane grunted. “You okay, Mandy? You seem sort
of off.”

“It’s my Valentine grinchness peeking out.”
She folded her hands together behind her back, rocked on the balls
of her feet, and gave him her most disarming smile. “And how have
you been?”

With a laugh and a shake of his head, he
brushed past her, heading for the porch behind her. “Mr. and Mrs.
G. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll take a rain check on lunch and come
back later, after Mandy has a chance to shower and put on makeup
and, you know, get presentable.”

And then he was gone. Through the kitchen
window, Amanda watched him walk along the sidewalk until he was out
of sight.

Wow, he’d matured into a real hunk. Still the
same smartass but the hunkiness kind of made up for it.

Behind her, Amanda heard a noise and she
turned to see her grandma shuffle into the room, a black marble box
tucked beneath her arm.

Grandpa George glided across the room, his
feet two inches off the floor, and crooned, “Elvira, my sweet wife.
I miss you, my love.”

Grandma set the box on the countertop. Dora
stopped beating the batter and gave the urn the evil eye. “Elvira,
I’ve told you a hundred times not to put that thing on my
countertop.”

Grandpa winked at Amanda. “That’s my ashes in
there. See how much my dear wife still loves me. Can’t bear to be
apart from me.”

Grandma sniffed the air. “Tom, did you switch
your aftershave? It smells like your dad in here.”

Tom pushed himself away from the table and
went to rummage in the fridge. “You’re imagining things, Ma.”

“Am not.” Grandma spied Amanda. “Finally,
you’re up. You can drive me to the cemetery today.” She waved one
hand toward the black marble box. “I want to pick out a plot and
bury your grandpa’s ashes before the wedding.”

Grandpa howled out in anger and glided
towards Amanda, stopping only when he stood nose to nose with her.
“If you don’t help me stop this wedding, I’m going to haunt you for
the rest of forever.”

And with that, her grandpa was gone, vanished
in a brilliant poof of light that made Amanda blink and stumble
back.

Three

The rest of forever could last an eternity,
Amanda thought as she went downstairs to shower and change. By the
time she headed back upstairs to collect Grandma, she’d decided to
have a heart to heart discussion with the older woman to find out
exactly why she was in such a rush to get married.

In the kitchen, the heart shaped cake pans
had been filled with batter and placed in the oven to bake.

“I’m ready to leave now, Grandma,” she called
out as she wandered through the kitchen and into the empty living
room. “Hello? Is anybody in the house?”

Odd. It wasn’t like her parents to leave the
oven on while they were away.

Grandma came out of her room, the black urn
clutched in her arms. She shoved it at Amanda. “Here, hold this
thing while I put on my coat and boots.”

Amanda caught the urn in her arms. Surprised
at how heavy it was, she juggled it into one arm, dug into her
jacket pocket for the car keys, and thumbed the car starter button.
After Grandma had her coat and boots on, Amanda handed back the
urn. “I’ll meet you in the car. I just want to poke my head into
the garage to see if Mom or Dad is there and let them know we’re
gone.”

As her grandma headed out the front door,
Amanda carried her boots to the back door, slipped them on, and
headed outside. The chill in the air seeped through her jacket, and
as she huddled deeper into the folds, she followed footsteps
through the unshovelled snow to the garage. Opening the side door,
she stepped inside. “Dad? Mom?”

While her eyes adjusted to the dimness
inside, she noted that both cars were parked in the garage. She was
about to leave when her attention focused on the yellow can of
whipping cream on the dash of her mom’s car and the action in the
backseat.

In the dimly lit garage, she saw her dad’s
naked butt a split second before she met his startled gaze. She
turned and in the mad dash to escape, tripped over the door sill.
Before she hit the snow on all fours, she found her balance and
didn’t stop until she reached her car, climbed inside, and slumped
against the seat.

“Did you find your parents?”

In an effort to block out the images, Amanda
sat forward, fished the keys out of her pocket, and stuck one into
the ignition. “Do up your seatbelt, Grandma.”

Grandma snapped on the belt and settled into
the seat, the urn on her lap.

Slipping on her own seatbelt, Amanda stuck
the car into gear, checked the rearview mirror, and did a U-turn on
the street.

“I have something for you.” Beside her, the
elderly woman dug through her purse until she produced a heart
shaped air freshener, which she hung over the car mirror. “There, a
little wedding cheer for your car.”