The Widow's Walk Read Free Page A

failing business and that Bill had had Dad’s confidence and the fact she was having trouble paying her bills proved it was necessary. She’d have to make this work–somehow.

Chapter 3
    Mike wiped his boots on the mat and stopped to scrub off the smell of fish and frozen hemp. He rubbed some greasy cream Liz had bought him into his chapped hands and smeared some on his face for good measure. Now he was fit to be near them.
    How would he explain leaving before Kevin even got up this morning? Should he tell him Liz went up to the widow’s walk every day to be with Edward Barrett’s ghost? Should he tell Kevin there was another specter, Jared Sanders, probing his insides like a snake hatching from its egg and slithering around inside his head? It would be easy to blame it all on Lady Elisabeth, who they’d all encountered. But no matter whose fault, if they sold this house, Mae and Kevin were out of a home and a job.
    Kevin had obviously been waiting. The mudroom door creaked; the cowbell clanked. “There ya are, Michael. Had lunch packed and all this mornin’.” He sat at the kitchen table, too forgiving to be mad, but hurt oozed out of his words.
    Mike joined him. “I needed some time to myself. To think things through.”  
    “Even though I’ve inherited many of Mae’s meddlin’ ways, I won’t force myself on anyone.” Kevin patted Mike’s shoulder. “Looks like ya haven’t slept in a while.”
    “Lady Elisabeth was in our room last night.” He left out the rest of the details.
    Kevin’s eyebrows knitted together, and he paused before responding. “Maybe it’s time for the two of ya to get away. I mean, facin’ this every night can’t be good for your love life, or anything else.”
    “You got that right. I’m working on it.” Enough said. Kevin and Mae weren’t stupid. They probably had already started looking for a new place to live. And new jobs. “I’ll wait for you tomorrow. If you haven’t changed your mind.” 
    “Sure thing.” Kevin picked up a lid that was nearly simmering itself off a pot of chicken soup.
    Mike’s mouth watered. “That smells good.”
    “Aye. Let me find Mae to see when it’ll be done.” Kevin headed through the back hall to search for his wife.
    Mike walked through the dining room and nearly bumped into Kevin coming into the parlor from the back stairwell. Mae and Liz chatted on the sofa while Eddie played quietly at their feet. He crawled like a sprinter at the starting gate toward the two men.
    A fire crackled behind the protective grate. Something Liz had sprinkled on the wood released an aroma of cinnamon, oranges, and cloves. Any stale floral smell triggered a memory of the dress. Mike’s stomach churned. He plunked himself down onto the couch.
    “Well, we’re all here now aren’t we? Let me see to boilin’ some rice for the soup, and some of that egg pastina for the baby.” Mae kissed Kevin on the cheek on her way out.
    “Make me some of that pastina, too, will ya?” Kevin called.
    “Yer just a big baby.” Mae stroked her husband’s cheek and grinned.
    Kevin followed to be sure she would oblige.
    Mike tickled Eddie until the baby squirmed, anxious to get back to his pile of toys. Liz remained silent, staring into the flames. They’d sat here more times than Mike could remember, but the way his gut twisted now, the ghosts saw some significance to this otherwise pleasant domestic scene. What it was he didn’t know, and didn’t care to.
    “How are you feeling?” A spark of life, enthusiasm, glinted in Liz’s eyes, in sharp contrast to Elisabeth’s blank gaze.
    “Better today.” Mike caught a whiff of her fruity perfume and sneezed.
    “Bless you. I start a substitute job tomorrow at Cape Cod Technical High School, teaching English and history.” Liz was trying to look excited but tight neck muscles gave away her disquiet. “You left Kevin behind this morning.” She nestled against him.
    He moved closer and put his arm around her