Ghosts Don't Lie

Kate!

Chapter One

December 26th

Lying in bed, Jillian stared at the sleeping mountain beside her, trying to forget the bad dream. A familiar wave of resentment surged through her, the taste of bile rising in her throat. Kyle slept all the time, as if making up for previous years when he almost never came to bed.

At least not to her bed.

While she understood he worked all those long hours for the good of their family, it left her aching with loneliness and wishing for a partner who did more than bring home a paycheck. She’d given him an ultimatum about his workaholic habits, and he’d been getting better.

Until all hell broke loose on The New York Post’s infamous Page Six, quickly migrating to front page news all over the tri-state area.

Here they were in the wilds of Vermont, and he still barely made time for her and the kids. In fact, things were worse than ever.

The dog emitted a low drawn-out whine, as if echoing her thoughts. She slipped from under the covers and fumbled for her slippers. There was no way she was going to fall back asleep any time soon.

Max dashed ahead, toenails clattering on the wooden stairs. Jillian flipped on the kitchen lights and saw him waiting next to the door, tail wagging in anticipation. Come right back. Jillian shook a finger at her black lab. No goats today.

Max wagged his tail harder and whined again. Jillian pushed the long blonde hair from her face and opened the door into the still darkness of early morning. Max made a beeline for the woods, headed straight to the Dundorfs’ to check out the new additions. The parents gave their kids a dozen goats for a Christmas gift. Jillian shook her head thinking of her crazy new neighbors. Fifteen acres and she’d have to start leash walking the dog again. Another checkmark in the negative column. There were an awful lot of checks in that column already.

The Labrador’s sharp bark broke her reverie. Max reentered the warm kitchen and shook off a dusting of fresh snow. Jillian shivered and shut the door. It feels below zero out there. No wonder you came right back.

She tossed a biscuit to Max and poured herself the last cup of yesterday’s coffee. As she waited for the microwave to work its magic, she tried to remember her strange dream. An accident, a hospital, and her college boyfriend. Why would she dream about him after all these years? More troubling was the accident victim. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She needed to wait until at least eight before she could call to check on her great aunt.

It was just a silly dream.

She twisted her hair into a loose bun and grabbed her daughter’s hair tie from the countertop. Jillian’s hair had been long and straight since childhood, one of the things about her that never changed. Although, after the birth of the twins, she’d given up hope of ever being a size six again. The stress of the scandal and the move to Vermont had her back into a size eight. She smiled at the irony. No one in Vermont cared what size clothing she wore. This wasn’t New York City. Or even Jersey. She should at least take comfort in that little fact, but she couldn’t. She’d rather have her friends closer.

Hot coffee in hand, she shuffled to the kitchen table and flipped open the laptop. Time to check email, she told the dog. Max curled up on the rug in front of the cold, brick fireplace.

She missed Jersey with a dull ache that never quite went away. She hadn’t relaxed for a single moment of the last year, especially not in this foreign land of open spaces and Green Mountain vistas. Sipping her coffee, she analyzed the dream again. It’s just guilt, she said, remembering the uncomfortable arguments when they went south for Thanksgiving. Auntie is always there for me, and now I’ve moved far away.

Moments later, Max jerked his head when the man of the house stumbled into the kitchen. Kyle stretched his thick arms and dragged his fingers through greasy brown hair. What are you doing up so early? He stumbled to the coffeemaker and frowned. No fresh coffee?

Jillian didn’t glance up from the screen. I hated to disturb you with the grinder. The real question is what are you doing awake at this hour? You haven’t been up this early in months. Since we moved.

He opened the cabinet and took out the beans and grinder. I told you last night. I promised Dan Wheaton I’d help mend the hole in his barn roof before the next snowstorm.

I guess you did mention it. I didn’t realize that included rising at dawn.

He chuckled. Well, you know these farmers. Up with the roosters and all. Kind of like New York lawyers.

You’re not a New York lawyer any more.

Kyle’s blue eyes turned to ice. Thanks. I almost forgot. He slammed the faucet handle.

Regretting her words, she bit back the apology that sprang to her lips. He stood looking out the window with the intense expression he’d once employed so skillfully in the courtroom. It lacked the same effect with his current wardrobe of plaid boxers, ratty bathrobe, and frayed T-shirt. The same uniform he wore around the house most days.

Until recently, Kyle wore only thousand dollar suits. Then he lost his job amid rumors and scandal and fled to Vermont, dragging Jillian and the kids along for the ride. Now he never went anywhere. She’d seen more of Kyle in these last few months than in the previous five years of marriage. She was only just getting to know who he really was, and she wasn’t sure she liked him. At all. Maybe he was guilty of those charges after all. She shook her head. If he’d been guilty, they would have convicted him. That backstabbing woman stepped all over Kyle’s career to get ahead, with those wild accusations and headline-grabbing sound bites. She couldn’t leave him when he obviously needed her. Changing the subject, she asked, Remind me again who Dan is?

You met him at Dad’s funeral in April. He called last week about his will and mentioned the hole in the roof. He offered to pay me for my time. We could use the extra money, unless you want to ask your parents again. Or that evil aunt of yours.

The handyman lawyer, Jillian quipped, ignoring his jabs at her family. Can hammer out wills, divorces, and holes in roofs while you wait. Maybe we can add your shingling skills to your shingle.

He flipped the switch on the coffeepot and joined her at the table. Catching up with the news from Jersey?

She nodded. It feels like we’re so far away from everything.

That was kind of the idea.

For how long?

He shrugged. I need to regroup.

She snorted. Sitting around in your boxers is not regrouping. It’s giving up. The company railroaded you, right? You’re a lawyer. You should fight back.

It’s not that simple. Kyle exhaled a long breath. Enough fighting. What’s going on back in Old Tappan?

Jillian scanned the next email. Deb’s single again. She gave Mark a ‘diamond deadline’ of Christmas Eve, and he bought a new microwave instead. And Gretchen… Jillian clicked open the email from her friend. There’s no note here. Only a URL link to the paper she works at.

Open it.

She clicked on the blue letters on the screen. Oh my God. The headline read Little Old Lady versus Commuter Train. Goosebumps rose on her arms, her dream coming to life. Jillian scanned the story and summarized for Kyle. Early Christmas morning, a ninety-five year old woman in a Lexus apparently mistook the tracks for a roadway and turned left, directly into the path of a train leaving Westwood station. No passengers were injured, but the driver of the car was rushed to Englewood Hospital. She’s listed in critical condition.

Well, that’s no way to start a Sunday morning. Kyle laughed and got up to pour the coffee. Why would Gretchen send you that?

It’s my great aunt. Jillian reread the article, still in a state of shock.

Are you sure? Rich old Auntie Evil from Alpine?

Jillian scowled. Edith, not Evil. I can’t believe you’re still mad at her. I need to call Mom. She grabbed the phone off the wall.

How ironic.

What? She half-ignored him, willing her mother to answer.

Remember in November? She kept saying, ‘Thank goodness for my Lexus, it’s such a safe car.’ A lot of good the car did against a train! Kyle laughed.

It’s not funny. A moment later, she hung up. There’s no answer.

They’re probably at the hospital. Kyle placed a fresh mug of coffee at her place. Sit down for a minute.

She sat and wrapped both hands around the warm cup. What should I do now?

Logan and Lucy barreled into the kitchen. Tell Lucy to give me back the remote, Logan demanded. We watched Sponge Bob yesterday.

The boys always get the remote, whined his sister.

Jillian sighed, looking from one child to the other. How about, ‘Good morning, Mom and Dad’? The precocious twins turned four recently and kept her on her toes constantly. Jillian grabbed the cereal from the shelf and held it out to Logan. Take the Cheerios with you to the TV room, but let Lucy have the remote, okay?

The boy scowled but took the box and ran past his sister. C’mon, Lucy, we’re missing the show.

Kyle shook his head. They don’t do anything quietly.

They’re just like my brother and I at that age. Speaking of quiet, though, where’s Billy? Somehow their five year old was the opposite of his siblings. Thoughtful and serious; people often mistook him as older than his actual age.

He’s probably looking at one of his new books. I’ll go upstairs and check. Kyle grabbed his mug and stood. I need to get dressed anyway.

Jillian turned her attention back to the computer screen, rereading the newspaper article, still shaking her head at the eerie similarities to the dream that woke her. She hadn’t had a true dream in years, not since Billy was born.

What did it mean? Loud ringing cut her speculations short, and she rose to find her cell phone.

Twenty minutes later, Jillian stood at the counter, scribbling onto a notepad while cradling the phone against her shoulder. Kyle returned to the kitchen fully dressed, his winter parka draped over one arm. Jillian waved him over. Okay, I’ll talk to you later, Mom. Bye. She turned to her husband. You’re not going to believe this. I need to rush down to New Jersey today.

He sank into one of the ladder back chairs, his coat dangling loosely in his hands. What do you mean, Jersey? Dan needs help with his barn roof, and I’m late already.

Apparently, my father surprised Mom with a trip to Bermuda for Christmas.

Kyle scowled. What does that have to do with—

Auntie’s in critical condition. Someone needs to be there. Vermont is closer than Bermuda. Her words hung in the air between them, an awkward silence filling the kitchen. She knew how much Kyle and her aunt hated one another, but no one should be alone in the hospital.

He narrowed his eyes. What exactly are you suggesting? That we should all pile in the car right this minute and run to be by Auntie Evil’s bedside? Just because the woman is richer than Croesus doesn’t mean we need to jump at her every whim.

She slipped into the chair opposite him, struggling to keep her voice on an even keel. It’s not some whim, Kyle. My aunt’s in intensive care. I’m not going to leave her to deal with this all alone. She’s family.

But what about our New Year’s party? I’ve already invited some of my old fraternity brothers and their wives, and a few of the lawyers from that firm I’ve been talking to downtown. I can’t cancel on them now. It’ll make me look bad.

Her mouth hung open while she groped for words. You’re…you’re unbelievable, you know that? This is my great aunt we’re talking about. The one who paid my way through college and was always there for me. To hell with your party. We’re going to New Jersey.

Kyle sighed, scrubbing a hand through already scruffy hair. No, you’re right. You should be there for her. But it feels too soon to face our friends and have them whispering behind my back. Thanksgiving was hard enough. That bitch Alexandra and her crazy allegations ruined my life.

Our lives, Jillian whispered, sympathy edging out some of her anger. The firm put Kyle through the ringer before forcing his resignation. It was understandable that he’d retreated far away to lick his wounds and regroup.

But it didn’t relieve her of her own obligations. She placed both palms flat on the table. How about a compromise? I’ll stay with Auntie until Mom gets back from Bermuda in a day or two. We can still host the party so you can make those new business connections.

Kyle’s self-assured grin made her wonder if she’d played right into his hands. That sounds great, babe. I’ll help you round up the kids.

She frowned, shaking her head. No, they’re staying here. If I’m driving down there alone, I won’t have time to deal with Auntie and three bored kids. Let them enjoy school vacation here, with their new toys.

But who’s going to take care of them? Kyle’s eyes widened as realization dawned. You’re leaving me in charge?

You’re their father, she said, impatient with his panic. This’ll be a good chance for you to spend one-on-one time with them, don’t you think?

No, I don’t. Couldn’t you at least wait until tomorrow? Give me a chance to get used to the idea? Or hire a babysitter?

She pressed her lips into a thin line and stood, walking toward the stairs with hands clenched at her sides. I’m going upstairs to pack. I need to be at the hospital when Auntie wakes up from surgery.

Less than an hour later, she threw her overnight bag into the passenger seat of the station wagon. Kyle stood next to the car door holding Lucy in his arms. She’d buried her little head in his shoulder, wailing with frustration. Billy wrestled her other bag down the porch stairs as his brother waved a fistful of drawings over his head. Mommy! Don’t leave yet! You need to pack these pictures to cheer up Auntie!

Jillian plucked the brightly colored papers from his hands as he screeched to a halt. Oh, Logan, these are beautiful.

Lucy raised her head from her father’s shoulder and sniffed loudly. I helped him, you know, she said with a wan smile. While you were packing to leave us.

Oh honey, come over here. Lucy wrapped her body around her mother, and Jillian hugged her, rocking from side to side. I’ll be home before you know it.

Who’s gonna take care of us? Lucy sniffled.

Kyle stepped closer and pushed a stray curl behind his daughter’s ear. Daddy’s going to be here the whole time, sweetie. Jillian stifled a laugh at the skeptical look Lucy gave her father. Not that she blamed her daughter. The kids had learned early not to rely on Kyle for much of anything.

Billy leaned against the car, hands jammed tightly into his pockets. Is Auntie going to be okay, Mom?

Jillian forced a smile. I hope so. She was always there for me when I was your size. And now she needs me.

Billy looked away from his mother. We need you too.

She pulled the boy in for a hug. Daddy is here with you, and Auntie is all alone. He rewarded her with a half-hearted smile. Jillian put Lucy back down on the ground. Now, if you guys could go wait on the porch for a moment, I want to say goodbye to Daddy. The kids trudged through the fresh dusting of powder toward the front steps.

Kyle put his arms around Jillian’s waist. He drew her to him and kissed her on the forehead. We’ll be fine, don’t worry about anything here, he said in his steady courtroom voice.

Jillian tilted her head to look into her husband’s blue eyes, measuring his sincerity. His initial panic had disappeared, but she was having second thoughts about leaving him alone with the kids. Call me at Mom’s if you need anything, or call my cell. I bought plenty of groceries the day before Christmas, and there are plenty of leftovers in the fridge. And please don’t let Max or the kids go over to see the Dundorfs’ new goats. I know Billy wants to, but—

Kyle cut her off. Your parents will be back in town when?

They’re scheduled to return New Year’s Day, but Mom said they’re trying to switch their flight. What a year for Dad to be spontaneous.

He laughed. Life is all about timing, right?

Right. She nodded. Timing is everything, like you always tell me.

Be careful driving. For the record, I think you should wait until tomorrow.

I’m not arguing with you again, Kyle.

You never agree with me these days. Except when I’m kissing you. As if to prove his point, he slid his arms around her waist, bent his head, and kissed her. Warm, soft, and solid, his kisses melted her heart on their very first date, filling an emptiness deep inside. But now as he kissed her with such finesse, she wondered if she’d made a mistake staying with him despite all the rumors and innuendos. Perhaps the mistake was marrying him in the first place. Would they still be together if she hadn’t gotten pregnant?

She couldn’t answer that question, her stomach unsettled by the thought. Jillian pushed away, uncomfortable in his embrace and anxious to get on the road. Waving to the kids, she called, Okay, I’m leaving. Who needs one last hug?

Chapter Two

The highways were quiet, the bulk of the holiday traffic headed in the opposite direction toward the Green Mountains she’d just left. As she drove, Jillian catalogued her worries, picking through them one by one. She worried about leaving her children with their negligent father, worried about her reasons for staying with Kyle this long, and worried about her great aunt’s accident and recovery. She also worried about the prescient dream the night before, and what it might mean.

Was it all coming back to her?

She blocked out that part of herself for so many years, she’d almost convinced everyone it never happened. Almost. But her brother was dead. And she had a past that very few people remembered. Kyle might have his faults as both a father and husband, but she’d never told him the whole truth about herself, either.

By the time she met Kyle Greene, ghost whispering was well in her past. When their whirlwind courtship turned into pregnancy and marriage, there didn’t seem to be a point dredging up stories about her childhood. Kyle wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t further his career. Marrying a former cheerleader helped him. Marrying ghost girl certainly did not.

Focus on Auntie. She had a close relationship with the older woman, even if Aunt Edith and Jillian’s mother, Anna, didn’t always see eye to eye. Edith recognized and encouraged Jillian’s artistic talent, paying for her to attend art school in New York City.

Recently, Aunt Edith chastised her for abandoning her art when the children were born. She berated Kyle a month ago, at Thanksgiving, for hauling Jillian off to the sticks, where her painting talents were being squandered. Dinner devolved into a heated argument, neither Kyle nor Edith conceding.

Still pondering this, she took the exit onto the Palisades Parkway and then got off on Orangeburg Road. Despite the lack of a huge Welcome to Jersey sign, she felt the exact spot where the road crossed the borderline. Soon she was driving down Old Tappan Road, the main street of the town where she grew up. The familiarity made her smile.

When she opened the front door and turned on the lights, Jillian marveled at the complete stillness of her childhood home. She detected the faint scent of incense and fresh pine and had that weird feeling of stepping back in time she experienced every time she visited. Flipping light switches as she passed through the rooms, she realized again how peaceful this house could be. And how lonely.

Dropping her bags on the kitchen floor, Jillian saw the message light blinking on the answering machine and hit Play. Her mother’s voice filled the room. Hi, Jillie. The papers you need to bring to the hospital are in Dad’s desk. Visiting hours are from eleven to eight thirty if they’ve moved Auntie to the surgical floor, but they said critical care patients can have 24-hour visitors, restricted to family. Jillian checked her watch. It was only four.

An hour later, Jillian sat at her great aunt’s bedside on the critical care unit, growing increasingly concerned amidst the beeping machinery. A nurse knocked on the door and entered the room, wheeling a cart with a laptop. I’m going to check your aunt’s vital signs, she told Jillian, moving closer to the various machines engulfing Edith. The nurse tapped at her keyboard and scribbled on the clipboard hanging next to the door.

Is it normal that she isn’t awake yet?

The nurse gave a sympathetic smile. It’s hard to define normal in these situations.

Jillian sank back into her chair. It’s difficult seeing her like this.

The nurse wheeled the computer cart toward the door. I wish I could promise everything will be okay, but I can’t. She was unconscious when the ambulance brought her yesterday, and there was a lot of internal bleeding.

Tears filled Jillian’s eyes. I’m not prepared to say goodbye.

We never are.

Jillian stared at the woman lying in the bed. It seemed impossible to think the frail patient barely hanging on to life was the same strong woman she laughed with at Thanksgiving. You’ve always been there for me, and I’m here for you now. She detected the barest flicker under one eyelid. Did that mean she heard?

Jillian sighed and picked up her coat from next to the chair, deciding she’d better get some sleep if she needed to be back first thing in the morning to meet with the doctor. She reached into her handbag and withdrew the pictures Logan and Lucy had colored. The twins sent get well pictures for you. They send hugs and kisses too. She placed the drawings on the side table, propped against the vase of flowers purchased in the downstairs gift shop.

Stepping into the elevator at the end of the hallway, the sound of a familiar voice shocked Jillian, each word searing down her spine like a bolt of lightning. Her gaze was drawn to the nurses’ station, toward the speaker. "If Louise asks for me again, please inform her