Dying for You Page 4

  “I know I seem different, Cathy,” he was saying. “But there’s a reason for it.”

  “There is?”

  “Yes, of course. You’ve given me a second chance at life. I don’t plan to waste it this time.”

  “Nikki helped.”

  There was something warm on her leg. She assumed he was experiencing a moment of incontinence, then realized he had rested his hand on her knee. “You’re lucky to have a friend like Nikki,” he was saying, “but she’s not really my kind of girl.”

  “Oh yes? You mean the tall, gorgeous, fearless type? A real turn-off, huh?”

  “I like them smart and petite, with cheekbones you could cut yourself on.”

  Totally weirded out, she moved her now-sweaty knee away from New and Improved Ken. “Oh. Well. That’s, um, nice. Would you like more soup?”

  “I think I’ll rest now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay.” She stood. “Just, um, yell or something if you need anything.”

  “Of course. Thank you again for the fine lunch, Cathy. But it’s Cathleen, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “That’s what it is, for real.”

  “Nobody…I mean, everyone calls me Cathy.”

  “Yes, but Cathleen suits you better.”

  “Okay. Have a nice nap.”

  Completely mystified, she walked out, feeling his gaze on her until she closed the door.

  Chapter 11

  “Okay,” Nikki was saying as Cathy not-so-ceremoniously shoved her toward the door, “I have an annoying neighbor, too, and while he isn’t quite as yummilicious as Ken, he’s definitely got potential, so if you could just come over and kill him—” She teetered on the steps, and Cathy gave her one more gentle shove. Arms pinwheeling, Nikki went down. “Aigh! All right, all right. At least think it over, willya?”

  “Good night, Nikki.” She shut the screen door, then locked it for good measure. Friends, she added to herself. The ultimate mixed blessing.

  And speaking of friends, she’d been missing one lately.

  “Jack?” she whispered in the kitchen. “Are you there? It’s okay if you’ve been hiding because of all the ruckus lately, but it should settle down soon.”

  Nothing.

  “And me without my car keys,” she joked, which was a lie, as she knew right where they were. Still, Jack had been unable to resist finding them before.

  Nothing. Dead silence.

  She gave up and climbed the stairs to bed.

  Cathy woke hours later, scared out of her wits and not understanding why.

  Then she realized why: her bed was shaking. Not trembling, not twitching, shaking. It was sliding forward, then would slam back against the wall hard enough to nearly throw her to the floor. Then the performance would repeat. And repeat.

  “Jack!” she screamed, clutching wildly at the bedsheets. “Jack! Stop it! Jaaaaaaaaaaaaack!”

  The door to her room was thrown open and there was Ken, walking calmly toward the madness. “I apologize for not knocking,” he said as he bent and scooped her up.

  “You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t be up. You have to rest; the doctor said you have to rest. Don’t let go of me,” she begged.

  “Never. Besides, I can’t sleep in this noise,” he pointed out, kicking her bedroom door shut behind them. She could still hear the thumping of her bed, but it was growing fainter…either because Jack was getting tired, or because Ken was taking her so rapidly, efficiently away from the noise.

  “There, now,” he said, tucking her into the left side of his bed.

  “He’s never…he’s never been like that before,” she said, almost gulped. Why were silly things like bouncing beds so terrifying when it was dark out? She’d probably be laughing about it in the morning. “I know you’ll think it sounds silly, but he’s—”

  “Houses have history, remember?” he asked, climbing into bed beside her.

  “Um…Ken…”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing the tips of her fingers, then releasing her and rolling over on his back. “I know you’re not that kind of girl.”

  I’m not?

  “Thanks for coming to get me,” she said softly in the dark.

  “I’ll always come to get you,” he replied, and she supposed that should sound creepy, like something out of the Stalker’s Handbook, but instead it was so darned comforting she fell right back to sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Ken was gone when she woke up, thank God, because Nikki was standing over her, leering. Needless to say, a startling way to begin the day.

  “Don’t start,” she said shortly, throwing back the quilts and standing. Atypically hot spring or not, her toes instantly froze to the floorboards. Socks, her kingdom for wool socks! “I mean it, Nik.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so, Slutty McGee. Normally your cool exterior would be off-putting, but not today! Here I am, coming over early to help you with your own personal Ken doll, and I find you in his bed!”

  “It wasn’t like that, Nikki. He—”

  “That’s the worst part! I know it wasn’t like that; I can’t believe it. You can’t even be loose right. Dope. Otherwise you two would be having a little morning fun, uh-huh, uh-huh…” Nikki wiggled her butt for emphasis—like any was needed—in concert with her eyebrows. “And instead, you’re in here snoring like a beagle and he’s in the kitchen doing the dishes.”

  “He’s doing the what?” Then, “I don’t snore.”

  Nikki held up a hand. “Scout’s honor, baby. How many slumber parties have we been to? You snore like a beast. None of us can figure out how such a tiny person makes such a big scary noise.”

  “Cathleen! Nikki!”

  “That’s him,” she said, looking toward the open doorway. She hurried across the hall to her room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “That’s Ken, calling us.”

  “Well, duh,” Nikki said, and slurped her coffee from the mug she was holding. “Thanks for the exposition. Oh, and is that what you’re wearing to seduce wayward boytoys these days? The holes over the left knee are an especially attractive touch. Was it barf green when you bought it, or did it just get that way over repeated washings?”

  “Breakfast!”

  “I hate you,” Nikki sighed, following Cathy out the door.

  “Well, I hate you, too,” she pointed out reasonably. “Besides, I told you, it’s not like that.”

  “Uh-huh. Still hating you—whoa!” Nikki ducked, and just in time, because the portrait she’d passed by in the hall suddenly hurled itself to the floor, missing her by inches. “You need bigger nails, girlfriend,” she said, picking up the picture and leaning it carefully against the wall. “Ugh, what is it with the poor slobs in these old-fashioned portraits? Why do they all look embalmed?”

  “They didn’t have instant flash back then,” Cathy explained. She stood on tiptoes to see over Nikki’s shoulder. “They would have to hold a pose for twenty minutes. That’s why you never see anyone smiling in old pictures.”

  “More important, why is it still hanging here in your hallway?”

  “The last owner left quite a few of her things behind. I told her I’d work on getting them packed away, nicely and neatly. It’s part of the reason I got such a good deal.”

  “Those are the Carrolls,” Ken said from behind them, making both women jump. He pointed his spatula at the stiff-looking family. “They built this house. That was the father, Jerome, and that was his wife, Janice. They had two children: Victoria and Jefferson.”

  “That’s enthralling,” Nikki said. “Really, and I mean that. I’ll take my eggs over easy.”

  He smiled at her which, stupidly, made Cathy feel jealous as hell. “Yes, Nikki, and good morning. I also have some nice fried ham, and chocolate milk.”

  “Baby, that’s a date!” she cried, sashaying past him into the kitchen.

  “How did you know about the family who used to live here?”

  “My neighbor,” he said easily. �
�Victoria is the one who sold the house to you.”

  “I-I never met her. I just met with her lawyer.” She distinctly remembered Ken referring to Victoria as “that fucking old bitch.” Cripes. He really did turn over a new leaf. Maybe Nikki had a point. Maybe she should electrocute men more often.

  You need more sleep, she told herself. When Nikki starts to make sense, it’s time to go to the doctor for some nice pills.

  He came closer—luckily it was a gigantic hallway—and brushed one of her dark curls out of her eyes. “Did you sleep well? After the…unpleasantness?”

  “Like the dead. I mean, like a log. I mean, thanks for coming. Coming to get me, I mean. I would have been scared to be here by myself.”

  “There’s nothing to be scared of as long as I’m here.” Then he colored, which was odd to see on such a large man. “Not that I’m planning to overstay my welcome. I just…just wanted to set your mind at ease, is what I meant to say.”

  “Well, I’m sorry if I scared you. Screaming like that. Like an idiot.”

  “As a matter of fact, you did scare me. I was relieved to find you weren’t being murdered.”

  “No, just haunted.”

  “Yes, about that. I think—”

  “I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she said nervously.

  “Well, I’m ready to talk when you are. Like I said, I just want to set your mind at ease.”

  “And I,” Nikki said, poking her head around the corner, “want you to set my stomach at ease. Come on, you two can make goo-goo eyes at each other later. Cook, boy, cook!”

  “Sorry,” Cathy muttered, but was gratified to see Ken hide a smile.

  Chapter 13

  “Girlfriend, you are eggless.”

  Caught dreamily contemplating Ken’s shoulders, Cathy blinked. “What?”

  “Eggless. Egg free. You’re out. You got no more. And you’re low on milk. And you’re ugly.”

  “She certainly is not,” Ken said, offended.

  “Tell me,” Nikki sighed. “Try going to a club with her sometime. I looooooove being ‘the funny one.’ ”

  “Shut up,” Cathy said, blushing. “Well, I suppose—”

  “I’ll go to the store,” Ken quickly offered. “That is, if Nikki will let me use her car. Mine’s…um…”

  “I thought you lost your license,” Cathy said. “Too many DUIs.”

  “Oh. Well, no. But I don’t have a car of my own. Anymore.”

  “Shoot, you can borrow mine. I’ll come with you!”

  “She doesn’t like to drive,” Cathy explained.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it,” Nikki said, pushing back her chair, “it’s that it’s the most mind-numbing chore on the planet. I’d rather garden. Or shave a goat. Seriously.”

  “Let me get my wallet,” Cathy said.

  “No, I should—”

  “Ken, let her pay, she can afford it. Stingy cow has the first nickel she ever made.”

  “I do not! But Nikki’s right,” Cathy said, practically forcing the dreadful phrase past her teeth. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

  “So you don’t sue her for this lovely house!”

  “And the least I can do is pay for groceries,” she added, glaring at her friend.

  Ken laughed. “I’m not going to sue you.”

  “Sure, say that now,” Nikki replied. “Cath, I think you’ve got more potatoes in the cellar.” A hank of blond hair escaped from her cap, and Nikki absently tucked it back up. “You’re just low on dairy stuff.”

  “Would you mind running down to the basement and getting them, Ken? I—”

  “I need to change my shirt,” he said abruptly. “Nikki can do it.”

  Nikki’s eyebrows arched, and Cathy knew how she felt. Since the accident, Ken had been so polite and soft-spoken, it was odd to hear him actually refuse to do a favor.

  Nikki shrugged. “Your shirt is fine. Let’s go, handsome. Shotgun.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Back in a few, Cathy. Make yourself useful while we’re gone and, I dunno, do the dishes or something.”

  “Oh, hush up,” she muttered.

  TWO HOURS LATER

  She was wiping down the counters, vainly hoping Jack would make his presence known, when she heard the unmistakable sound of a car stalling, starting, stalling, and jerking its way up the driveway. She stepped out onto her front porch in time to see Nikki roll out from her door like a paratrooper in a World War II movie.

  “What the hell?” Cathy began.

  “The ground, I kiss the sweet sweet ground of life!” Nikki yowled, and then proceeded to do just that, smacking the turf with her lips. Cathy heard the car’s engine stall, and then Ken got out and stood awkwardly beside the car, anxiously watching Nikki roll around the yard like she’d been knifed in the dairy section. “My life flashed before my eyes! Six times! And let me tell you, I need to date more!”

  “I guess I’m a little out of practice,” Ken explained, reddening.

  “A little! You’re a wheel psychotic with absurdly well-built delts! You’re a—”

  “Nikki, calm down.” Cathy helped her friend off the grass. “For heaven’s sake. You’re not exactly an expert behind the wheel, either, all the chauffeuring we all have to do for you. Serves you right.”

  “I nearly die and it serves me right? You suck!”

  “Are you”—Cathy put up a palm to cover her twitching lips—“all right?”

  “Just a little humiliated,” Ken confessed.

  “You should be a little concussed, the way you cut off that school bus!”

  “Nikki, you’re getting hysterical.”

  “Damn right I am!”

  “I am sorry,” Ken said again. “I won’t drive you again until I’m better at it.”

  “Now with the threats,” Cathy teased. “Who do you think will get stuck with the duty?”

  Ken slipped an arm around her waist and, surprised, she let him. His tentative hug was nothing like his earlier, beery gropings. “Next time you should come with us,” he said. “Keep me out of trouble.”

  “Oh, barf,” Nikki said, and stomped into the house.

  “You forgot the groceries!” Cathy called after her, and got the one-fingered salute in return.

  Chapter 14

  “So are you going to jump his bones or what?”

  “Aaiigh!” Cathy nearly fell out of the easy chair. “Nikki! I thought you went home!”

  “Yeah, well, I forgot my magazines. So I’m back. So? Are you?”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  “So, no.”

  “None of your business.” Cathy lowered her voice to a whisper. “Besides, he’s recovering from dying.”

  “That’s always your excuse for not getting laid.” Nikki said this in a perfectly normal tone of voice.

  Cathy burst out laughing. “Be quiet! He’ll hear you.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where is he? Scrubbing your grout? Cleaning out your fridge?”

  “He went to bed. He’s tired and his burns were bothering him.”

  “What burns?”

  “They’re faint,” Cathy said defensively, “but painful.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. So why don’t you go up there with some, I dunno, salve or whatever. Minister to him, like.”

  “You’ve been downloading too much porn again.”

  “I live alone; what else am I going to do? And what are you waiting for, dumbass? Seduce!”

  “He’s a little shy.”

  Nikki snorted.

  “Now, I mean,” she amended. “In fact, he’s practically like another person.”

  “Yeah, so, he saw the light at the end of the tunnel and jumped off the track before it could run him over, or whatever. Good for him. Seduce!”

  “I’m not you, Nikki.” She did not say this defensively; she was what she was. “I can’t just go up there and strip and stand on his bed like Venus on the half shell.”

  “When was the
last time I did that?” Nikki had finally gathered up the last of her magazines and was impatiently jingling her keys. “Look, Cath, it’s not just that he’s gorgeous. Although he could definitely give Tom Cruise a run for his money. Plus, unlike certain ex-spouses of Nicole Kidman, Ken’s not short.”

  “We’re getting off the subject.”

  “We never left it, baby! It’s just that you don’t seem…I mean, you’re kind of lonesome. You’ve got your house and your temp jobs and your weekly duty phone call and once in a while I manage to drag you out of here and go to a club and that’s all.” Nikki faltered; she preferred to hide her emotions behind wisecracks. “And I-I just think you could use something else, is all. And he seems like he really likes you.”

  “Seems like he really likes me? You should write get-well cards.”

  “Blow me, how’s that for a card?”

  “Nikki, don’t you think you’re being just a bit inconsistent? After all, you were pushing him at me when he was a tiresome blowhard.”

  “Cathy, that’s totally the definition of consistent. Besides, now he’s not. So what’s the problem?”

  “That it’s gauche to take advantage of someone relying on my hospitality?”

  “Picky, picky. Besides…whoops!” Nikki dodged just as another family portrait fell off the wall and slammed to the floor hard enough to crack the glass in the frame. “Cripes, how many of these things do you have around here?”

  “Lots,” she admitted. “Mind the glass. And I’ll think about what you said, Nikki.”

  “Liar,” she said, not unkindly, and started to leave, carefully sidestepping the broken glass. “I’d help you clean up, but you know, that’s just not me.”

  “I know she’s a pain,” Cathy said after she heard Nikki’s car vroom off. “But stop throwing pictures at her, Jack. I mean it, now. You’ve been sulking for ages and now you’re acting in a distinctively unpleasant manner. Don’t make me call an exorcist!” How, she thought, does one call an exorcist, anyway? The Yellow Pages? Word-of-mouth referral? “Stop it this minute.”

  Or what, she thought, but nothing else happened, so she was spared having to think about it. Instead, she finished Chicken Soup for the Haunted Soul, and went to bed.