The Ghost in Love Read Free Page B

Gould’s life and apartmentcaptive these days was that he lived with not one but two ghosts, because German Landis haunted him too. He went to bed thinking about her and minutes after waking every morning he started thinking about her again. He couldn’t stop himself, damn it. It wasn’t fair. He had no control over it. Their failed relationship was an insistent mosquito buzzing close around his head. No matter how much waving away he did, it never left or stopped irritating him.
    He was at his desk, staring at his hands, when the doorbell rang that morning. He was wearing only underpants and nothing else. He knew it was she. He’d known she was coming but had purposely chosen not to get dressed. In recent meetings with his ex-girlfriend, Ben had grown increasingly remote and sullen, which only made the air between them dense and uncomfortable. Sometimes it got so bad that German thought, Oh, just let him keep the damned dog and forget it. At least that way I won’t ever have to see him again. But Pilot was hers; Ben had given him to her as a present. She loved the dog as much as he did. Why surrender only because her idiotic ex made her uneasy for five minutes every few days when she came to get Pilot?
    Before the bell rang, Ben had been thinking of the first time they ever made love. They were sitting next to each other on his bed undressing. She wore simple black underwear and didn’t seem at all self-conscious about taking her clothes off. When she was down to her bra and panties, she stopped, grinned at him, and said in the sexiest, most deliciously inviting voice he had ever heard, “Wanna see more?”
    The ghost heard the doorbell and immediately tensed up. Pilot looked at it and then toward Ben’s bedroom. The kitchen table had been sumptuously set with gorgeous food and objects. In the middle of this spread was a full blooming stargazer lily placed inside an elegant faint lavender glass vase from Murano, Italy.
    Nothing happened. No sound emanated from inside the bedroom. A minute later the doorbell rang a second time.
    â€œIsn’t he going to answer the door?”
    Pilot shrugged.
    The ghost crossed its arms and then uncrossed them. It made three different faces in the course of eight seconds and, finally unable to stand it anymore, walked out of the kitchen and over to the front door. Ben Gould finally emerged from his bedroom looking both sluggish and confrontational.
    The ghost looked at the man in his underpants and glowered.
Again?
He was going to pull this sort of immature, retardo stunt with her again?
    Gould rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, took a slow deep breath, and opened the front door. The ghost stood two feet behind him, holding a metal spatula in its right hand. It was so jumpy about seeing German that it wiggled the utensil upanddownandupanddown at an incredibly fast speed. Thank God neither person could see this.
    â€œHello.”
    â€œHey.”
    Both said their single words in voices as void of emotion as they could muster.
    â€œIs Pilot ready to go?” she asked carefully.
    â€œSure. Come on in.” Ben turned toward the kitchen and she followed. She looked at his nice butt in the wrinkled underpants and closed her eyes in despair. Why was he doing this? Was she supposed to be shocked or embarrassed to see him in his underwear? Had he forgotten that she had seen him naked, oh, several hundred times in their past? German knew what he smelled like clean and what he smelled like sweaty. She knew how he liked to be touched and themost intimate sounds that he made. She knew how he cried and what made him laugh out loud. How he liked his tea and how he absolutely sparkled when, walking down a street together, she put her arm over his shoulder to proudly show the world she was his pal
and
tall lover.
    Seeing where the two were going now, the ghost disappeared from its place by the front door and reappeared a second later in the kitchen.