Wanted: One Ghost Page 6

  ***

  Half an hour later, sitting across from James in the diner, April still couldn’t believe the man she’d known only a few days was really James Addison. She looked up from her menu. What did you talk about with someone you just brought to life?

  What had she done to cause him to re-materialize into a flesh and blood being? What power did she have connecting her with other realms? Being able to see or hear dead people was fine. Bringing them to life, not so much! Did it have something to do with James Addison in particular, or with her unique ability?

  She needed guidance. If Aunt Vickie couldn’t tell her anything useful, what good would it do to have her grandmother and mother here? Contacting her mother would be a lost cause. The woman struggled with her own ghostly abilities. Knowing her daughter could reincarnate the dead? The situation would throw Virginia Branford over the edge. She would lose her mind. April didn’t want the guilt of having put her mother in a straight-jacket.

  “What do you recommend? What is a ham-bur-ger?” James Addison frowned, looking over his menu and sounding out the word.

  She could still hear the excessive rumblings of his bi-centennial empty stomach. He was out of his element with modern day cuisine. Williamsburg taverns and restaurants would have been more adaptable to his time frame but this wasn’t Williamsburg.

  “A hamburger is ground beef cooked in a patty and placed between two rolls or buns. You can get it cooked to your liking and they top it with all sorts of fixings.”

  “How do you prefer your hamburger?”

  “I like mine medium-rare with mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato and the fries are actually strips of potatoes fried in oil. They’re very good.”

  “Then I shall have one with fries!” he announced slapping the menu closed. “Do they serve ale?”

  “No. Not here. Try the cola, it’s really good, especially with hamburgers and fries.”

  The buxom-blonde waitress took their order, smiling and flirting shamelessly with James. The woman couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  April had never been the jealous type but suddenly, the little green monster in her came to life.

  James seemed to be enjoying every moment of banter. He was, after all, James Addison. If he was anything like the books said, between his charm and womanizing ways, she would have her hands full keeping history from repeating itself.

  “The serving wench is nothing I expected,” James noted in a whisper when their server left.

  “She’s not a ‘serving wench.’ They are referred to as waitresses or servers. Wench is a derogatory term now.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t much different in my time. But it was acceptable in certain circles.”

  April watched him touch everything around them as they waited for their food. The napkin holder fascinated him. He pulled napkin after napkin out, examining each piece of paper, making a mess as he tore the pieces to shreds. She let him. The man hadn’t been able to touch anything in so long. April would gladly plant a few trees to cover the ones sacrificing themselves for his curiosity.

  “I’ve seen progress evolve over the years. But I never thought I would be more than a spectator.”

  He fingered the glass ketchup bottle, nearly knocking it over. The little packets of sugar and artificial sweeteners were next. He tasted each one, preferring the real sugar over the rest. A pile of yellow, pink, blue, and white paper packets littered the table, mingling with the shredded paper napkins. Finally she had to stop him. People from the other booths were beginning to stare. He was like an obsessed, hyperactive child who couldn’t keep his hands still. He finished pouring the sugar from the last white sugar packet into his mouth. Great! More sugar to hype him up.

  “It’s amazing to see sugar in such abundance. A cone of sugar was an expensive item only the wealthy were able to afford. Even then, we used nippers to pinch off pieces for our tea to make it last longer. Now it comes in so many packages.”

  “Cost of production is not as expensive. We process it here in the states. It’s transported in from other parts of the country.” All the things he didn’t know! April wasn’t sure exactly where to start.

  When their food arrived he dove into the burger with a vengeance.

  She grabbed his hand, marveling at its warmth and solid form for a moment before remembering why she wanted to stop him. “Take it easy. I’m not sure how your stomach will handle food yet.”

  James nodded and slowed down, savoring each bite. She offered a bite of her turkey melt. His eyebrows raised in delight over the mixture of meat and cheese on toasted sourdough. Dredging a fry in ketchup, April held it out for him to try. He nibbled the crispy potato from her fingers. Soft, masculine lips nipped the tip of her finger causing a fluttering of butterfly wings low in her belly. The shivery sensation made her squirm in the vinyl booth.

  “What do you think?”

  “Delicious.” His eyes darkened, dangerously so. “The crispy potato was, too.”

  “You’re impossible.” Heat radiated up from her collar. His silver eyes were bluer than the luminous gray she was used to. Did his eye color change have anything to do with his mortality? What was the state of his mortality? Was this permanent or would they wake up tomorrow to find him a ghost again?

  James took a large gulp of cola, only to immediately cough and sputter. April reached for a napkin and handed it to him. Okay, carbonation was new to him.

  “It’s a bit fizzy. Try sipping it.” On the verge of bursting into a full-fledged giggle, April bit back a smile. “Here, try it with a straw. Take small sips.” This whole situation was too much to take in. Here she was with a two hundred plus year old man trying to teach him the things she’d always taken for granted. Wow! Wait until he got a load of a television or her laptop.

  ***

  James noticed people coming and going while they ate. A couple of young men walked in the diner wearing pants hanging off of their hips, sporting caps worn backwards and big holes in their ears. He shivered at the idea of wearing such things.

  He was comfortable in his attire and didn’t think he would be able to wear the clothing he saw. Why some even looked like rags the way they were tattered in the knees. Not very many people wore his clothing—except for the ghost tour guide on the weekends, so he would have to adapt.

  His brow wrinkled. He hadn’t realized the situation until the waitress returned and asked if he wished for another refill on his cola, but he had drunk a few glasses of the dark brew and found himself in need of relief. Dear Lord! He hadn’t had a need to drink or eat in so long, he’d wondered if all of his internals worked.

  “I’m afraid I might need use of a…” How did one broach the delicate subject in this day and age? He looked around, unsure of what to do or where he needed to go.

  “Oh, a restroom?” April asked.

  “Well, I won’t be resting, no, I need to--”

  “It’s called a restroom. See where the man went?” She motioned with a nod of her head to a man in a red hat. He’d walked through a door off to the side of the diner. “There’s two doors, one for women, one for men.”

  “I shall return momentarily.”

  The room was well lit with a row of three basins along the wall and stalls painted red along another. The man with the red cap stood at one of the two troughs against the other wall opposite the basins, relieving himself. This was all new to him. He walked up to the other trough and proceeded to remove himself from his breeches as the man looked at him with oddity.

  Relieving himself, James watched from the corner of his eye as the man finished his business and pushed down on a little silver handle sending a rush of water into the trough.

  “Well, isn’t that just dandy?” James exclaimed aloud, awed by the contraption.

  The man gave him another odd look and backed away as he left the washroom.

  A whoosh of sound from one of the stalls startled him, and a big man walked out and stopped to wash at another basin. James watched as he turned on the
silver knobs, wet his hands, and then put them under a contraption on the wall that released a foamy substance. Shaking his head, James went to the basins and turned on the knobs. Water flowed, and a small sign above the sinks near the mirrors showed hands lathered in bubbles. He put his hands under the water. It was warm! How delightful!

  The man turned to another machine on the wall and rubbed his hands under the blast of air. The man watched him with keen interest and gave him a half smile before leaving. James peered at himself in the mirror. Yes, he would need a change of clothing. Perhaps he was the peculiar character. No wonder they had looked at him funny.

  They ended their meal. He’d finished off the hamburger and fries with a piece of pumpkin pie that he devoured with the sweet cream topping. He was accustomed to paying with coins if he didn’t have a tab at his local tavern, but now his pockets were empty.

  “I would like to establish a tab here,” he told the waitress who’d served them when they approached the cash register.

  “Um, we don’t set up tabs here. Cash or credit cards only.” She looked to Dr. Branford who handed her a small card. The waitress swiped it against a box with buttons. The box made a slight whirring sound and spit out a piece of paper. She ripped it off the box and gave it to April to sign with a writing instrument.

  He watched her scrawl her name on the piece of paper. She was scribbling! Wasn’t she a doctor? She should know how to write properly.

  “Your penmanship is atrocious! I can barely decipher the difference between your ‘A’ and your ‘B.’ Did you not have proper tutoring?”

  “My handwriting is fine. We don’t use penmanship very often. We have computers to do much of our writing,” she commented when they were out of earshot of the customers lingering about.

  “That is no excuse for lack of a proper, formal signature.”

  After she’d opened his door, he sat in the car. It was low to the ground but comfortable. She’d adjusted the seat for his long legs. Still, he wasn’t quite sure about the experience. He’d held on for dear life as she had driven them here to the diner. The quick pace of the machine in such close proximity to others instilled a sense of unease in him. He’d seen cars in the streets of Kings Mill over the decades but he’d never been able to ride in one.

  He liked the idea of the harness strap that crossed his body. He’d been amazed when April had first introduced him to it before driving to the diner. She’d insisted he had to wear one because it was the law.

  “You need to buckle up your seat belt.”

  “My what?”

  “The strap across your chest…like before.”

  He must have given her a curious look because she reached across him to grab a strap of material near the door. James inhaled the freshness of her unique scent. Heather and lavender fields came to mind with a bit of something sweet, vanilla perhaps? Her hand rested on his thigh for balance, mere inches from his groin. He watched her push the metal clasp into an apparatus which seemed to be its mate. A piece of her dark, auburn hair came loose from her braid and drifted against her cheek.

  James took the opportunity to touch it. Her hair had been a source of fascination for him since they met. Smooth, like the finest silks shipped in from the Orient. Caressing the strand between his thumb and finger, he delighted in the texture. The curl mesmerized him for moments, until he noticed the wary look in April’s eyes.

  “I’ve wanted to touch your hair since the first time I saw you, dreamed of how soft it might be.”

  His fingers continued their intimate caress of her hair. She was so close to him, her scent enveloped him. She backed away, her eyes alive with wonder. He couldn’t stop looking into them, reading what he hoped was a mutual attraction. After a moment he found his bearings and focused on what needed to be done. His arousal by having her so close to him couldn’t be a good thing. Dr. Branford was not a woman to use lightly.

  Nothing had prepared him for being able to touch and interact with April Branford. This was a different time and era. She was a modern woman and he was a much older man. He had nothing to give her but his undying gratitude. He would need to be cautious of his ardor for fear of scaring her away.

  April drove him to the outskirts of his normal domain and he thrilled at finally being able to go beyond his usual confines. Kings Mill had spread out from the small village he’d known in his day. Marveling at the sites, they passed the cemetery and drove on past stores larger than his family estate in England. April tried to engage him in conversation but he was mesmerized by everything around him while they drove. He could do nothing but gape.

  “I had no idea! This is quite extraordinary!” he managed to say as April drove past each building or object along their way.

  He found everything fascinating. His brow furrowed when she turned to stare briefly at him.

  “What? For the past two hundred thirty-eight years, I haven’t stepped outside of the confines of Kings Mill.”

  April appeared a bit confused. “You mean from the historical district?”

  “In my day, the boundaries of the village stopped at the Episcopal Church and its graveyard.”

  “But I saw you out at the mill site. How is it possible?”

  He shook his head, wondering. “I live there. It’s my home. Though I’m still confused as how you were able to be in my time frame the other day when you showed up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He watched as she guided the car behind another at a red signal light. He’d figured out over the years the red light caused people and these unique carriages to stop and the green ones to move forward. Signals were a right bloody good idea, seeing some of these damned horseless contraptions going so fast at times.

  “Nothing like it has ever happened before. I’ve been able to move between times somehow but never realized someone else could, too.”

  “I think it might have something to do with my gift.”

  “Gift?”

  April sighed. “I have the ability to touch objects or be in a surrounding of historical importance and somehow connect to the past. It’s referred to as archeological psychometry.”

  “Is that how you could see me?”

  “I’m not sure. The maternal side of my family has the ability to communicate with ghosts.” She paused. “I’ve never had the ability, until now.”

  “Perhaps it’s fate. We don’t control our own destiny. If we did, I would never have been murdered by Henry Samuel.”

  As they stopped at a red light, April turned away from her task to stare at him briefly. She nibbled on her lower lip and turned back to the road ahead when the light changed to green. The car lurched forward, and he clutched the side of the door as they traveled faster than any horse had taken him.

  Within moments they were in a paved field of other automobiles in front of a large building with a grand entrance. He stayed in the seat, still unsure how to work the restraining harness across his body. April walked around to the passenger side and opened his door.

  “Are you getting out?”

  “I seem to be at a loss as how to unlatch my seat belt.”

  She sighed as she reached across his lap again, like she had done to buckle him in, and pushed the small red button to release the silver clip. Their eyes held and James noted the catch in her breathing. She was just as affected by their closeness as he was—which was a good sign. He enjoyed having her stretched across his lap. He would have to remember to feign helplessness more often, if it meant having her in such close proximity.

  ***

  April grabbed a shopping cart and walked into the SuperMart with her colonial dressed man parading behind her in a stupor. It was Halloween, well technically according to her watch it was now the first of November. Still, she could use Halloween to her advantage for at least a few more hours.

  She hurried him through the store, taking him by the arm to keep him from stopping and ogling. He was too busy gawking at all the items to be paying attention to where he needed to be.
The smattering of early morning shoppers stared at him as he touched and fondled everything he came across. He didn’t seem to find their looks daunting at all. He stopped from time to time, doffing his tricorne and greeting people as they stared at his costume.

  “What size do you wear?” April asked as she took in the shelves of jeans.

  “Size? I had my clothing tailored to fit.” Shrugging, James went back to touching the material of a half-zippered fleece pullover. “Soft. This would be warm.”

  “Do you like it?” Smiling she held up a pair of jeans to his waist, measuring length and width. He took the pants from her hands and examined them.

  “These are like the ones you wear.”

  “Kind of. They’re called blue jeans. They were created back in the late 1800’s by a man known as Levi Strauss. He made them for the men out in the western states during the gold rush.” She trailed off in her explanation when James studied her with interest as if one of her students settling in for a history lesson. His cocky grin left her feeling flushed. She didn’t want to feel like a history teacher right now. “I’ll explain later. They’re comfortable and modern. They can also be used for casual dress or more semi-formal. I think a pair of jeans or two and a pair of black dress slacks will suffice for now.”

  She found a couple of pairs for him to try on in close sizes and pushed him in the direction of the dressing rooms, along with a couple of dress shirts and sport shirts.

  He stopped short as he held out the jeans, pointing to the zigzagged enclosure down the middle. “What is this?”

  Oops, she forgot. They didn’t have zippers in his day. “It’s a zipper. It’s used as an enclosure for clothing. You pull up on the little copper tab after you put the pants on.” April bit her lip. “Be sure you have everything out of the way first.” She cleared her throat nervously.

  She never thought something as mundane as a zipper could make her uncomfortable but thinking of where the zipper would be touching left her fantasizing about the man history had insisted was a ‘ladies man.’ What was it about him boasted the image, other than his dark good looks and charm?