Sheila Connolly - Relatively Dead 02 - Seeing the Dead (12 page)

“You think I was wrong?” Sarah asked.

“I really don’t know. I think he did too good a job of stifling it. He remembers seeing Johnnie, but he hasn’t talked about anyone else. Although as I said, he may have been seeing people with me but not admitting it. Or not, if they’re not lineal ancestors—our family connection goes way back. Are you descended from the Reed family?”

Sarah shook her head. “Not that I know of. But Ned would know.”

“It could be the Phillipses, too,” Abby said, almost to herself. “Or your husband’s line. Well, we can worry about how we connect later. To come back to Ned, I have to wonder if maybe he chose his career to try to find out more about this, at least indirectly. Not that he’s said much about what he does.”

Sarah smiled. “I’ll let him explain it, because I can’t. But, yes, he did choose the scientific approach. So you’re saying that we’re probably related somewhere up the line, maybe through the Reed family, but the only one you both see is Johnnie?”

“That’s what he says, but I’m beginning to have my doubts. He’d already done the research on old Phineas Reed’s descendants, so Ned kind of pointed me in the right direction and sat back and waited to see what I would do. And he or I or we kept scoring hits, which makes me think he had seen or felt something himself before. Although it doesn’t always take the same form, I gather.” Impulsively Abby held out her hand across the table. “Take my hand.”

Sarah looked startled, but then complied. As soon as they touched, Abby could feel something. It was hard to put into words: some of it was Sarah’s personality, warm and sympathetic. Part of it felt like a low-grade electrical current buzzing between them where they touched. Like what she had felt with Ellie, too.

“You feel that?”

Sarah nodded. “Kind of like a tingle? It’s not unpleasant.”

“Have you ever noticed it with anyone else?”

“Ned, of course, but I thought that was just mother love.” Sarah smiled fondly.

“Not your husband?”

“Nothing like that. Wait—what happens when you and Ned … ? I mean, I assume you have, or you do … you know what I mean.” Was Sarah blushing?

Abby grinned. “We do, and it’s something really special. But I won’t say any more. It’s like the, uh, usual, except amplified. And I have to believe that’s because we’re related, however distantly, and both our lines share this peculiar ability. You’re telling me that if it’s one-sided, it’s not the same? With your husband, I mean?”

“I guess not. I mean, it’s good, but it’s nothing unusual. I think—I can’t say I have a lot to compare it to.”

“Hey, I don’t either. What about before Ned was born?”

“You mean, when he was inside? It was my first pregnancy, so I didn’t have a clue what normal was like. But there were times when I wondered, like when I’d put my hand on my belly and he’d choose that moment to kick exactly where my hand was. I could explain it away as coincidence, but it happened more than once.”

Abby wondered what would happen if she and Ned stayed together and had children, but she really wasn’t ready to explore that. She hoped that by that future date she’d have a better handle on the whole phenomenon.

“Did you ever read Robert Heinlein?” Sarah said suddenly.

“When I was a lot younger, I think. Why?”

“If I remember correctly, at the end of one of his books there’s a couple, and they have a child, and one of them makes a comment, something like, ‘He always knows exactly where to scratch my back,’ and they realize that the child may have some sort of telepathic ability. Kind of like what we’re talking about. I’d never considered that anything like that was relevant to, well, me.”

“I’ll have to read it. So, what do we do now?”

Sarah shrugged. “That’s up to you, I guess. I made my choice a long time ago, and I think this sort of sensitivity kind of atrophies as our brain ages. But you’re younger, and certainly more open to it. You can shut it down, if you want, or you can jump in with both feet.”

“Where did you leave things with Ned tonight?”

“You mean, did I say, ‘Never darken my door again, you ungrateful wretch’? Of course not. He’s been struggling with this for years, and I can see why he wouldn’t want to confide in dear old Mom. I tried to be supportive without being intrusive, and that won’t change. He can tell me whatever he wants. At least he told me about you. Although I could pretty much guess when I saw you together.”

Now it was Abby’s turn to blush. “He’s special. I don’t know if this thing we share will bring us closer together or drive us apart. I think he’s troubled that he didn’t see or sense or feel the man on the green at Littleton. But I’ve been doing the genealogy, and I haven’t found anyone who was at that battle in Concord who was a Reed or descended from one. I think that means that the man is from my family but not yours.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure yet. It’s a new twist, but I’m still doing the research, mostly genealogy, in what little time I have left while getting ready for Patriots’ Day. I didn’t realize what a big thing it was around here!”

“Tell me about it!” Sarah replied. “I have a ringside seat.”

Abby glanced at the old clock ticking over the sink and realized it was nearly eleven. “I hate to have to end this, but I’ve got to be at work in the morning. But we can do this again, right?”

“Of course we can. And we can include Ned, or not. I’m sure we all have a lot to learn, and at least it’s out in the open now.”

Abby smiled. “I’m wondering if I should start keeping score. You know, Ned and I would pick a convenient place at one or the other battle sites and see who shows up—the departed ones, I mean, not the living ones.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ll bet you that the ‘real’ ones will be the ones in the shabbiest uniforms, because they’re not just dressing up and play-acting.”

“Good point.” Abby stood up. “Sarah, thank you. I hope you feel better about this whole thing, because I know I do. At least you know you’re not alone, and you’re not crazy. Or if you are crazy, you’re in good company.”

Sarah stood up as well. “I’m the one who should be thanking you, Abby. And please know that you make Ned very happy. I hope everything works out between you, but I won’t butt in.”

Sarah escorted Abby to the door and gave her a quick hug. Abby had an irrelevant thought: Sarah’s hug was cinnamon flavored, warm and sweet and kind of homey. Abby waved good-bye as Sarah waited in the doorway until she pulled out.

12

Abby felt a moment of shock when she pulled into her driveway close to midnight and spied a man sitting on her front steps. But she quickly recognized Ned, and she wasn’t surprised. Families were such odd things. How he and his mother had managed to avoid talking about something that was innate to both of them for so many years mystified her, but she couldn’t say she had done much better with her own family. After all, her mother had never shown the slightest interest in her family tree, which had turned up some surprises when Abby had started looking hard at it the year before. Maybe that was because her mother’s own mother and grandmother had been so closemouthed about it. Or maybe her mother simply lacked imagination or curiosity. It was pretty clear that she hadn’t the slightest hint of any psychic ability.

When Abby got out of the car, Ned leaped to his feet and watched her approach. Poor baby, he looked worried. What on earth could he imagine was so awful about a chat with Sarah? What deep, dark secrets could have emerged?

“Hey,” Abby said.

“Everything okay?” Ned asked anxiously. “You were there quite a while.”

“Everything’s fine. Did you doubt it would be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. It was really strange talking to Mom about this. Have you ever had that talk with your parents?”

He had hit a sore point. “Not exactly. You know that I don’t see them much. It was all too new when they visited in the fall, and I didn’t go to visit them at Thanksgiving. And at Christmas there really wasn’t a good time to sit down in a quiet corner and ask my mother if she sees people who aren’t there. There was just too much going on. I keep forgetting that you haven’t met them, although I’ve told them about you. In a nutshell, my mother lives mainly in the present, and has no interest in any history that extends back beyond her own memory. It’s not that she’s oblivious or even self-centered—she just doesn’t care about it.”

“Kind of the polar opposite from my family, I guess,” Ned said. “Well, I just wanted to be sure that everything was all right. I’ll head home now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Abby protested. “Let me get the door open and the alarm disarmed and you can come in.”

Abby fumbled with the locks—she must be more tired that she thought—and punched the keypad for the alarm, then stepped back to let Ned in. He looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself; he looked like someone who needed a hug, so she stepped forward and hugged him. They held each other silently for a time, and it was Abby who broke it off. “I really should shut the door.”

“Oh. Right.” He took a step back while Abby locked and armed the appropriate bits.

When she was done, she turned back to him. “You want something to drink? Hot, cold, alcoholic?”

“No, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to be sure that you were all right. And Mom. And the two of you together.”

“Then let’s go downstairs and I’ll … debrief you, I guess.” When they were settled on a couch in what Abby regarded as “her” living room—the one with the owners’ wide-screen TV—she said, “I really like your mother, you know. It’s a shame you two didn’t talk about all of this years ago, but I think I understand why.”

“I should have said something. I thought about it, but I kind of learned that guys aren’t supposed to share with their mothers, not unless they’re gay.”

“Is that what your father taught you?” Abby asked, surprised.

“No, nothing like that. Dad’s a nice guy, and he really loves Mom. I know she said she never told him, but I agree with her that he wouldn’t have known what to make of that information. He’s a simple guy. We get along well, if you’re wondering. Anyway, it was hard enough having to deal with ‘seeing’ people without having to defend my masculinity to a bunch of high school jocks.”

“Kids can be cruel, I know. No girlfriends in high school?”

Ned shook his head. “Friends, maybe, but not romantic. I was a geek, remember?”

“So were a lot of people, of both genders,” Abby told him tartly. “Including me. Don’t worry—you grew up just fine. So what was your understanding of what your mother told you tonight?”

“That she’d always had this ability, but that she’d ignored it as much as she could. That Dad didn’t share it, even though he’s from an old New England family just like she is. That there were other … presences in the house, but I told her I’d never seen them. Of course, I was in total denial back when I lived there. That she thought maybe we had some extra-normal connection between us, but that she never encouraged it. That was unselfish of her, don’t you think?”

“Yes. It must have been hard for her, all along. Wait a minute—if you didn’t see those others, does that mean they weren’t related to you? Were they related to your father, do you think? Or does that even make sense?”

Ned shrugged. “I really don’t know. The thing is, I may have seen Johnnie only because I was young and didn’t have a lot of preconceptions then. As I grew older, he disappeared, so I guess I accepted what my mother told me, that he was an imaginary friend. But you know he’s still around.”

For a moment Abby debated whether to tell Ned her suspicions about Leslie’s daughter Ellie, but she decided Ned already had too much information to process at the moment. The discussion of Ellie’s ability would keep. “Hey, it’s late, and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Ned stood up quickly. “I should go.”

“You should not! I’m not throwing you out. Stay. Please.” She reached out a hand.

Finally he smiled, and took her hand. “Thank you.”

Just as they were falling asleep, Abby murmured in Ned’s ear, “Your mother’s touch smells like cinnamon. Does that make any sense?”

Ned lifted his head to look at her. “I always noticed that. But I thought she just did a lot of baking, when I wasn’t home.”

Abby nestled closer. “Nope. It’s her. I’m glad we both get that.”

• • •

The next morning was a flurry of dressing, brushing, combing and the like, with only a quick grab at coffee and a muffin. No time for talk, but none was needed. Ned seemed to be his usual cheerful self, and that made Abby happy. She managed to get to work on time; the museum was more chaotic than usual. She slipped quietly up to her office and studied the To Be Done piles on her desk.

Leslie stuck her head in briefly. “Thanks for covering for me yesterday. Ellie seems to like you, which is a huge compliment coming from her. I hope she didn’t creep you out by demanding to go to the cemetery.”

Abby smiled. “Not at all—I love them, and that one down the street is a good one, which I haven’t really explored. She was particularly interested in the slave tombstone.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of unusual for the day. Did you tell her he was a drunk?”

“No, because I didn’t know myself until I came back and looked him up. She did manage to read the word ‘vice.’ Did you have to explain that?”

“No. She does read well for her age, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” Abby agreed. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Nope, not right now. Staff meeting at three, mostly to make sure that everything we need to do is actually getting done. I’ll be glad when this craziness ends.”

Abby too was looking forward to some peace and quiet after Patriots’ Day, and even more she was looking forward to the summer, when there would be no school groups. Not that she didn’t enjoy them, but she really wanted to do more work on genealogy, and the longer days of summer would give her a chance to hunt for more relatives locally, at least in cemeteries. She wondered briefly if local historical societies kept longer hours in the summer, but she kind of doubted it. After all, their employees, so often volunteers, wanted to take their own vacations. She sighed. There was always too much to do, and there was so little time. Would she find answers faster if she had unlimited time to hunt down all her relatives? Or wouldn’t it make a difference? Right now she seemed to be living in the midst of a clutch of those ancestors, so she should really figure those out before she tried to expand her search. At least the Patriots’ Day parade should be interesting. How many “former” people would show up? Or would they show up at all, since it was pretty much a modern event, and rarely on the right day?