The Bride's Curse (19 page)

“I think I know the answer to this puzzle, or at least part of it, now that we know who Kelly’s restless spirit is.” Brett’s voice fell into the uneasy silence of the room as he pulled out the blue airmail envelope from his pocket with a flourish. Mary and Kelly turned to look at him, their faces questioning.

“Kelly, remember when we were in the store and the whirlwind of items came to a halt? Do you remember anything odd that happened?”

“Oh, my heavens, Brett—anything odd? Nothing, except that every item in my store, from gowns to suspenders, was flying around all by itself!”

Mary raised a puzzled eyebrow, but wisely didn’t say anything. Kelly assumed she’d acclimated herself to weird happenings in her witchy studies.

“Think carefully. All the items fell to the floor except one after you yelled at the … presence … to stop.”

She visualized the store the previous night when chaos had reigned. Noelia, hit by a marauding pearl bridal bag and slumping to the floor, a whole slew of pearl embroidered gloves, empty fingers waggling, flying by like migrating geese, a few pairs of white lacy honeymoon thongs dancing madly … “The box! Everything suddenly fell to the floor except a box that hovered right in front of you!” She was so pleased to get the answer she wriggled in her seat.

“What was on the box?”

Darn it, another test question.
She thought for a moment. “Nine-nine! The box said nine-nine or ninety-nine.”

Brett gave her an indulgent smile, like a teacher with a star pupil. “Yes, box ninety-nine. The post office box number I’ve kept on for when I’m out of the country, even though I get office mail delivered to Mary’s house when I’m home … ”

Mary grasped his meaning first. “Yes, and when the ghost showed you the box, you figured it out and remembered and … ”

“ … we stopped at the post office and you picked up that letter?” Kelly finished.

Brett enveloped them both in that indulgent smile. “Yes. I wasn’t really expecting anything except fliers in that box, so I hadn’t bothered checking it except for when I first arrived back in the country a few days ago. Been kind of busy.” He winked at Kelly, who blushed.

The two women exchanged mystified looks. “Remember, I’m coming late to this party, so explain,” Mary told Brett.

Kelly admired Brett’s well-trained technique of giving the long story of the ghost’s tantrum in Wedding Bliss in just a few succinct sentences. She could imagine him making such presentations to corporations and government officers and to foreign government committees as he presented the case for the projects his non-profit organization was proposing to implement. A little frisson of pride ran through her thoughts.

“What a naughty thing for this ghost to do. I have to say, though, that it would be very like Peter Arnt; you’ve no idea of the times he got us all in trouble when we were children, playing practical jokes on people who didn’t share his sense of humor.” Mary smiled. “So, I’m up to speed. Now go on and tell us what’s in the letter. I can see Kelly is like me, just dying to hear it.”

Kelly wasn’t sure that, in this context, she liked the expression “just dying” but she decided to keep quiet. However, she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder a few times, wondering if the mysterious Peter Arnt’s restless spirit was prowling.

Brett told them the gist of the mysterious letter: that it had been written about a month ago and signed by Peter Arnt in France. “He says he’s ill and doesn’t have much time but wants to put the record right. It’s rather a long letter and you can read it yourself, Aunt Mary, but here’re the basics for Kelly. You remember that Troy was still at Harvard, finishing his last year? The wedding was the day after he sat finals?”

“Yes, he was supposed to drive over to Derry early the next morning. We’d deliberately set an afternoon time for the wedding to give him time to get here. And we broke with tradition and didn’t bother with a rehearsal dinner the night before. We were so eager to get married,” Mary finished wistfully. Kelly reached out and patted her hand.

“So, in a bit of a wild mood after finals were over, Peter and some friends took Troy out for a stag party. They pub crawled, and after a few drinks too many, for laughs started to spray paint a wall. Someone must have reported them because they heard a police siren in the distance and ran off.”

“That doesn’t sound at all like Troy, but it’s certainly fits for Peter.” Mary’s voice dripped disapproval.

“When the group of them finally stopped running, laughing so hard at their prank and outwitting the police, Peter noticed that Troy wasn’t with them. He assumed he’d run a different direction and would meet up with them later. They were all pretty drunk.” Brett looked up from the letter he was reading. “Seems Troy didn’t show up at the apartment they shared, so Peter assumed he’d taken off to drive overnight to Derry for the wedding. Early the next day, armed with what he describes as the world’s worst hangover, Peter drove the 300 miles or so to Derry, stopped at his parents’ house to change into what he called a ‘monkey suit’—I think he means tie and coattails—and arrived at the church to wait for Troy. Who, as we know, never arrived.

“He talks a lot, rather self-indulgently, about how shocked he was and how he worried that Troy had been driving drunk and got in an accident. He took off back to his folks’ house from the church and started calling hospitals along the route but couldn’t find any trace of Troy. He told his father what had happened and his father said he’d deal with it. The next day, with still no sign of Troy, Peter flew to France for a job interview. Later, Elizabeth joined him. They were married in France, and their parents and friends flew over there for the ceremony. Sadly, his father and mother died a short time later.”

“I remember now. They actually died within a few days of each other. Romantic in a depressing sort of way. It was winter and there were no formal funeral services. They held a memorial service at the church later, for both Mr. and Mrs. Arnt. His father was so strict, a very dour and somewhat frightening man. I didn’t go because I was afraid Peter would be there,” Mary told them.

“Well, apparently he did go and he looked for you. Someone told him they thought you’d left Derry because you hadn’t been seen around town for a long time.”

Mary nodded. “I didn’t go out hardly at all, didn’t go to social events, passed up on college, lost touch with all my friends. My parents thought I was too fragile to strike out on my own at university or to get a job. I’ve wondered since if they were really right.”

“He goes on to say that Elizabeth’s parents came to visit in France, and later to live there. Peter and Elizabeth never came home together. She was pregnant and couldn’t come for his parents’ funerals, and he only stayed a few days.”

Silence held sway in the small parlor until Mary broke it. “So, we still don’t have the answer to the question of what happened to Troy? Still don’t know if he’s dead or alive?”

“I have an address here, in Paris, France, so I’m going to go and call and see if I can contact any of Peter’s family there. They might know something more.” Brett left the room, only to return a few minutes later looking grim.

“I spoke to Peter’s son, Auntie. I’m afraid Peter died two weeks ago. He’d been ill for some time. He said Peter never recovered from Elizabeth’s premature death and what had happened with Troy all those years ago had weighed heavily on him. The son, Peter Junior, said he hoped his father had found some answers now.”

“You didn’t tell him … ” Mary questioned.

“That his father is a ghost stalking a pretty redhead around a little Maine town? No, even I am a little more discreet than that.”

“Okay, then. So what’s next?” Kelly took her cell phone from her jacket pocket.

“Who are you calling on that newfangled thing?” Mary asked, eyeing the phone with suspicion. “I read somewhere that they damage your brain or something.”

Kelly couldn’t resist an eye roll. “Gee, Mary, when all this is over we’re really going to have to get you caught up on the 21st century. You’ll love it, I promise. Meanwhile, I’m calling to make sure that Noelia, my assistant, has recovered from her ordeal last night. I’m selfishly hoping she’ll come into the store and help me clean up. Then I’m going to go and see a ghost about a missing groom.”

It didn’t take Kelly long to track him down.

He was exactly where she expected him to be, on the street bench opposite Wedding Bliss, his back to the pretty little park that occupied the square. He sat with his head in his hands, and as Kelly approached him he looked up and she was appalled at the misery on his face. Peter Arnt’s ghost looked even paler than the last time she’d seen him. It was as if he was fading away before her eyes.

“Hello, Peter,” she said as she plunked herself down beside him.

He managed a dim smile. “So you’ve found out that much, at least.”

“Yes, Mary’s nephew got your letter. Why did you send it to him and not to Mary?”

“I just imagined her opening a letter from me, what you might call a blast from the past, and the shock making her ill. I researched and discovered she had a nephew, a responsible sounding fellow who did charity work in poor nations, so I thought he’d be better able to care for her and break the news. You must remember I was alive when I wrote that letter. Things just happened faster than I expected.”

“Don’t they always.” Kelly really wanted to hug him, but knew that was impossible. There was one question she had to have the answer to, even if it added to his distress. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth right from the start? Why put us through this guessing game?”

He looked her in the eye, a grin twitching at his lips. “Those are the rules, my dear. There are rules of etiquette, if you want to call them that, that we must obey. But I don’t have much time left … I’m fading. I did so want to put things right before I cross to the Other Side.”

Kelly reached out intending to pat his shoulder then snatched her hand back quickly before it went right through him. There was another comfort she could offer. “Do you know where Troy is?”

That grim, ghostly smile again. “No, that would be against the rules if I told you.”

“Damn the rules … sorry. Do you at least know if Troy is still alive?”

Peter the Ghost gave a grim smile. “Oh, yes. I checked with the Powers That Be. They gave me that much. I didn’t … did not want to have to face him on the Other Side without at least trying to make this right.”

“In that case, you can rest assured that we’ll find him.”

The Old Man on the Bench smiled a little brighter. “Please, when you do, would you tell him I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart? And would you ask Mary if she can find it in her heart to forgive me? And Troy?”

Nodding, Kelly stood to leave. “Will you still be here when I get back?”

Kelly’s heart went out to the despairing ghost. He looked so sad as he replied, “I’ll try to be. But I don’t have much time before I have to report in.”

• • •

Kelly was exhausted. She had awoken early from a deliciously sleepless night curled into Brett’s warmth. After talking to Mary about the photograph, finding the letter in Brett’s mailbox, then rushing back to Marina Grove to talk to the Old Man on the Bench, she felt as though she’d already put in a full day’s work and it wasn’t even eight o’clock.

Now she stood on the sidewalk outside Wedding Bliss, dreading the task ahead of her. Would Noelia show up to help her clean up the mess left behind by the ghost’s tantrum or had she meant what she said about wanting no part of these events? The street was already starting to get busy with people on their way to work, and even a few tourists. Even this late in the season, Marina Grove was a favorite recreation area. The street where Wedding Bliss stood boasted several antique stores, a couple of dignified “junque” stores, a smart restaurant, a travel agency, and a delicious artisan bakery and ice cream outlet.

Kelly had been drawn to the area’s eclectic style even before she’d noticed the small shop that was for rent and the idea of Wedding Bliss, the one-stop wedding paraphernalia and planning store, had been born. Of all the things she had ever done in her life, she was sure that moving to the seaside town and starting her own business there was one she would never regret.

She was screwing up her courage to open the store and face the mess when she saw a familiar figure exiting a car parked nearby.

“Noelia?” She walked quickly down the sidewalk toward her friend and assistant, not sure if Noelia would meet her with her usual good-natured response or if she was still angry and frightened after her naughty ghost encounter.

To her relief, Noelia smiled and hugged her. “I am so sorry I lost it last evening. To be honest, I was so scared I nearly peed my pants and I was sure I’d have nightmares after it. But I slept like a baby and when I woke up I just felt bad for taking it out on you. I’m sure you didn’t invite that mean spirit into your life to cause trouble.”

Kelly swallowed with relief. “Oh, Noelia, you have no idea. I was so frightened, too, and when that purse hit you and you went down … I would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me.”

“Not your fault, girl. And some of the images in my brain from that night are quite funny. Like the garter belts dancing across the room by themselves ... ”

“And do you remember all those lacy bridal thongs flying around Brett’s head?”

“Oh, my goodness, yes—his face was a picture!”

In moments the two of them were clinging to each other, laughing hard.
There is nothing like a bit of humor to dissipate tension,
thought Kelly.

With concentrated effort and elbow grease, they soon had Wedding Bliss back to normal, with the window displays attractively updated and the store shelves and settings tidy and inviting.

• • •

Brett had wanted to accompany Kelly when she was planning to meet with Peter the Ghost, but she had insisted that he meet up with her after work instead. “He won’t hurt me,” she’d told him with more confidence than she actually felt after witnessing the angry power that had caused chaos in her store.