Sara woke to the laughter of children playing outside. Glancing at her watch, she yawned and stretched. Then it hit her. She'd cried herself to sleep after an all-night writing session. Griffin and O'Malley had visited, too. The depression that had clenched her returned. Suffocating misery. She marched to the kitchen.
Opening and closing cupboards she searched until the tall brown bottle revealed itself, stuffed in a corner with old pots and pans. Whiskey, good Irish whiskey. Ripping off the cap, she poured a generous portion, next swallowing half in one gulp. Her throat caught fire. But it felt good. Drinking was one way to rebel against dire circumstances.
"Take that! You ghosts, goofy friends, stupid cops!" Taking a seat at the kitchen table, she was surprised by the relaxing whoosh that rushed down to her toes. Dumping there, it left her listless, feeling dead in her heart, in her mind, empty.
"My dear, it's hurtful to see you like this."
Justin, back again, sat across the kitchen table. His image reverberated with color, fading and then growing stronger. The sight was beautiful to see, luminescent and magical. His hands were folded on the table and he leaned forward to speak in soothing tones.
"Darling, we can find your friends and make it right again." Flashing a smile, he cocked his head to one side.
"Justin, I'm beginning to think even you can't get me out of this mess. I mean, you can't control what those people think of me, and you can't control what happens to them either."
"You're right. There's only so much you or I can do to influence things. But, dear lady, I know your heart. And it is a powerful force that can move mountains if it wants. It certainly moves me on occasion." With that remark, he rose and approached. Sara watched in awe as his ghostly figure moved closer, without steps but floating on air, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, hugging her.
When he touched, his filmy arms disappeared into transparent mist, blending into her sending a bolt through her, emotional, a warmth like she'd never felt before. Her body took up the theme and answered. Exhilarating love raced through her with all its giddy insouciance and glittery pleasure.
The longer he hovered, the more intense the feelings, growing stronger, overtaking Sara in a crescendo, pulsating her heart in pleasuring waves. She sighed like a school girl in love. Her entire being was his, if only for a moment. And that instant was spent in glorious communion. But the delicious sensations when he touched her...was she making love with a ghost?
The thought blew the moment to pieces, and in a whirl she looked across the table to see Justin sitting there where he belonged, a smirk curling his lip.
"What just happened here?" she asked, her heart still drumming love beats in her chest.
"I took your mind off your problems, Sara. And I showed your the power of your own heart. Aren't you going to thank me?"
Sara's mind whirled in torrents. He had succeeded in showing the tremendous power she held in reserve, the ability to lay aside the petty and reach in to find forces of love, powers she never dreamed existed deep inside. But this ghost! Should she be worried he could take command of her at will?
"I can see you're worried, Sara. But please, don't be. I only brought out the best of what you are. I didn't control you. Although I did hint at how much I love you, dear."
She shot him an uneasy glance, not certain how to reply. A dark silence took up the air between them until finally Sara spoke. "Well, I guess it is time to get in the car and head for Smithton. Are you coming with me or not?"
Moments later, as she started the car, he appeared in the passenger seat sitting quietly as if to show respect for the seriousness of their mission.
Continued in Chapter 18, part 2
Copyright 2007 JO Janoski |
