Page 35 of Ghost of a Chance

T he psychic really didn’t help at all. She claimed that she sensed something in the book but couldn’t talk to it, and when Kirsty tried a repeat of yesterday, only the candles blew out again.

Disappointment hung around her like a heavy cloak as they walked back to her car. He wanted to cheer her up but had no idea what to do. “She’s not you. You’ve had a connection to the book since I brought it to the studio. I think…that the ghost is more comfortable with you.”

“Well, I don’t. We are no closer to figuring any of this out. I think we should just say it was a bust and move on.”

“A bust? The book is still here and still haunted. I can’t just move on from it,” Jasper said. After years of being haunted by this poltergeist, he was so close to freedom. He wasn’t going to back down now.

She put her head on the steering wheel. Her hands tightened, knuckles white against the leather, and she muttered under her breath. He reached over and patted her shoulder. “I know you can figure this out.”

“Thanks,” she said sitting up.

His phone pinged in his pocket. “Victor can meet us at the diner in thirty minutes.”

She put the car in gear without saying a word. He noticed she got quiet when she was turning things over in her mind. Which was fine with him. He had his own shit to contend with.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to see Victor again. Jasper had been a crap friend after Paul had died.

But truly, it had hurt too much to be around Victor. Around him, Jasper missed Paul more keenly. Felt his absence the most around Victor. So he’d walked away. Finishing his classes and then immediately taking the job with Bri’s show, moving to Chicago without a goodbye.

They entered the diner and Kirsty headed for the booth they’d sat in the night before. He followed her, sliding in across from her so he could see the door.

“I’m sorry I just can’t figure this out,” she said. “I feel like I’ve tried everything I can.”

“There might be something simple that’s been overlooked,” he said. “It’s not just down to you to figure out. Gia is tracking down the book. Victor will probably have some insight that I’ve missed.”

“I hope so,” she said. It was clear she was used to solving puzzles and this lack of progress was frustrating her.

The door opened again and Victor walked in. He was tall and slim; his hair was curly, springing around his head in an effortlessly cool style. Victor’s left hand was covered in rings. He wore a plaid coat and a scarf around his neck.

Paul’s old scarf.

Jasper stood up, hugging Victor as soon as he was within reach. Victor was stiff for a minute and then hugged him back. “What’s this about?”

“Paul,” he said.

“Finally got over yourself and decided to talk about him?” Victor said, glancing toward Kirsty and arching one eyebrow.

Guess he deserved that. “Kirsty, this is Victor, Victor—Kirsty,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. Victor sat down next to Kirsty and told Jasper he’d have a cappuccino.

He nodded and left the two of them to go and place the order.

Their heads were already bent together as they were talking.

The conversation flowed smoothly between the two of them from what he could tell.

Jealousy shot through him, remembering his awkward attempts at reengaging Kirsty before Victor had arrived.

But Victor was like that. He always put everyone at ease or in their place. There was something so deep and honest about him. You didn’t mind when he pointed out you were being an ass because he did it in a gentle way.

Looking back on the years he’d spent ignoring Victor, Jasper regretted it. He also didn’t really feel great about getting back in touch just to ask him about Paul. He should have been a better friend.

The server at the counter said she’d bring their drinks and be over to take their food order shortly. When he got back to the table Kirsty glanced up at him. “Victor mentioned that Paul was working on a special project with you.”

He sat down harder than he meant to. “Yeah. We were trying to figure out some old notes my mom had found in a box in the attic. But once Paul died I stopped. He was the driving force behind it. It doesn’t matter.”

“What was the project?”

“My dad had some notes for that science fiction short story he’d been working on. The story revolved around offering people the chance to buy transference for themselves after their death.”

Victor looked back and forth between them. “What’s this about anyway?”

“Remember when I sent you the textbook?”

“Yeah. Not exactly what I was expecting from you after all those months of silence,” he said.

A small part of him was relieved that Victor had clearly mailed it back. Somehow the ghost’s powers didn’t extend to fooling the postal service.

Before this went any further, he had to apologize. He put his hand on Victor’s, gently touching him for a moment. “I’m sorry. I was too in my own feelings to be a decent friend to you. The easiest thing for me was to just stop talking to anyone who knew Paul.”

“Such a douche.” Victor frowned. At least he was honest. “How’d your mom take that?”

“She hated it and came to stay at my new apartment. Just moved in until I talked to her,” he said. “You know how she is.”

“I do. She visits me a couple of times a year. We talk about the hot mess that you are,” Victor said.

“That should keep you both busy,” Jasper said, something inside of him relaxing. Victor was hurt but still willing to be friends with him. And apparently was friends with his mom—something to handle another day.

“It does. So, what’s up with the book that makes it such a big deal?”

“We think it’s haunted and may have been connected to Paul before he died,” Kirsty said.

Victor lifted both eyebrows. “This conversation might require something stronger than a cappuccino.”

* * *

Kirsty wholeheartedly agreed that something stronger might be needed. Yet as painful as it was, it seemed like it was necessary.

Jasper was different around Victor. There was clearly a bond of friendship between the two men. So much more of him made sense now. His devotion to Chewie, the way he was so laid-back most of the time. This was probably closer to who he’d been before Paul’s death.

Yet it was concerning that he continued to keep things from her. He’d avoided the topic of the science fiction project he’d been working on with Paul. She was a writer, why hadn’t he mentioned that before?

“Do you have the book?” Victor asked after their drinks arrived.

Kirsty opened up her bag and took the book out, setting it on the table between them. “It’s this one?”

“Yes.” Jasper gave Victor a hopeful look. “I mailed it because I figured that Paul wanted to get back to you.”

“Thanks, sweetie. But he’d never trap himself in that book. I mean it’s big and ugly, two things that you know he hated.”

“You’re right. But could it be tied to him?”

“Well I can’t be quite one hundred but maybe,” Victor said. “Let me see if I can pick up his vibes.”

Victor closed his eyes, sort of like when she had meditated to talk to the ghost. But he didn’t have candles or chant out loud. He just kept his hand there, his head tipping to the side as the minutes ticked by.

“I’m not sensing Paul with this book.”

Jasper shook his head. “How do you explain things like Judge Judy always coming on. Lately it’s been at six a.m.”

“Why would that have anything to do with Paul? He hated Judge Judy .”

“Uh, no, he didn’t. He had it playing all the time at our apartment,” Jasper pointed out. But his voice wavered. It was clear that what they’d suspected was true. “I constantly told him to turn it off.”

“Yeah, he mentioned that. But he wasn’t watching it. He hated that show. Said people needed to be decent, you know.”

If Paul hadn’t been turning on the TV when he and Jasper were roommates…then it proved the haunted book had been with them before Paul’s death. Or maybe the Judge Judy thing was just a red herring.

“It would come on in the living room when Paul was working in there.”

“I don’t know about that,” Victor said, taking another sip of his cappuccino. “But he definitely didn’t like the show.

“What else does the book do?” Victor asked.

“It always comes back to me. I’ve thrown the book out more than once and it shows up back at my place.”

Victor put his hand on the book again. “I’m definitely getting something from the book but it doesn’t feel malevolent.”

Kirsty believed that Victor had a gift that she would love to explore sometime. He was getting stuff from the book that she hadn’t. She hesitated for a moment. Thinking of Jasper who needed some closure with Paul. “Have you had any contact with Paul after his death?”

“Nothing like Jaz has been experiencing with his creepy ass textbook. But sometimes I feel this warm breeze on the back of my neck, I guess. Usually it’s when I’m having a bad day or feeling down. He used to kiss me there so…yeah, I think it’s him.”

Kirsty squeezed Victor’s hand. “I bet it is.”

He finished his coffee while Jasper observed him, perplexed. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. I have to head to work now.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Jasper said.

Kirsty jotted down a few more notes. Looking at her notebook right now reminded her of all of the failed story ideas she had on other pages. If she was trying to write this as a story, she’d throw it out and start over.

It was clear to her why Jasper had assumed it was Paul.

He was roommates with Jasper, so the Judge Judy show and the physics connection coming from the book itself would have been present in the apartment with both of them.

Jasper just had no idea of knowing it was from a haunted book, that Paul was probably dealing with the same thing he was now.

Accepting the truth was hard. But why was he still hiding stuff from her?

He needed to come clean.

He walked back in looking a bit sheepish. But she wasn’t in the mood to let him off easily. He owed her some answers and no more half measures. Not this time.

* * *

Kirsty waited by her car after he finished talking to Victor. She had questions. And she deserved answers.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just come clean about the project before except that…he hadn’t. There were some things that were harder to talk about. His dad was always hard. And Paul’s death had cast a long shadow over the sci-fi short story.

Even in his head it was an obvious excuse.

She didn’t say a word as he entered the car, which was somehow worse than if she outright berated him.

She drove back to the house. Gia’s and Dan’s cars were gone. “After you let Chewie out we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we do.”

Fine. It was totally justified that she was upset with him. But he hated that he’d upset her again. He kept saying he wanted to make her happy and make her smile, but he had no clue how to do that.

He had a lifetime of regrets and longing, stuff that he never wanted to surface. How the hell was he going to tell her that?

Chewie was anxious for a walk and a piss, so he took the dog out around the block, hoping that maybe he’d figure out how to tell her about the tangled emotions that were tied to the secret he’d kept from her.

Would she even care?

That was a cop-out. His way of still trying to justify not telling her. He’d hurt her by not telling her.

It seemed he was pretty much an expert at putting himself first and shutting out people he loved. Kirsty might not be comfortable letting people into her life either, but she finished what she started. And she knew when to open up even if it hurt.

Was there something he could say that would change her mind? Show her that he hadn’t been playing a game with her?

“What do you think, Chewie?”

The dog just barked at him. Not helpful at all.

When they returned, the smell of coffee was strong and led him to the kitchen. Kirsty had made herself a cup and left him an empty mug.

He made one for himself, adding extra sugar and milk because it comforted him and then he found her in the dining room with her laptop. Her fingers were moving quickly across the keyboard. She didn’t glance up when he entered. She held up a single finger.

He took a seat across from her, sipping the coffee that was too sweet and left an aftertaste in his mouth. He wanted to go back to bed and start the day over.

Meeting with Victor had made him realize how stupid he’d been in his grief. He allowed himself those first few months when he’d needed to be alone, but these last few years he’d been running in place. Using the busyness of work as an excuse to not reach out to the people who mattered.

As he sat across the table from Kirsty he vowed he wouldn’t do it again. He’d confess it all. Show her the broken boy that still existed inside of him. That one who held on to his fears and his secrets because too much of his life had been known by everyone around him.

She finished typing, closing her laptop with a resounding snap.

Leaning back in the chair, crossing her arms under her breasts she pierced him with that inscrutable look from her heavily lined eyes.

“I know you’re cross with me but it’s sort of sexy,” he said. Immediately regretting it when she tightened her jaw.

“Sorry,” he said, sighing.

“For?”

Everything .

“For trying to distract you with that comment,” he admitted.

“Okay. You were writing a short story? Tell me about that.”

Stretching his legs out under the table he took a deep breath. “I wasn’t per se. It’s not as simple as it sounds.”

“Then break it down for me. You are really good at explaining things when you put your mind to it.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry I never told you. It’s just that it wasn’t only about Paul.”

“Who else could it be about? We should definitely talk to anyone involved in this. Does it have to do with quantum theory?”

“It was Dad’s short story. He was working on the theory for a science fiction book idea he had. Paul and I were trying to flesh out the idea before my twenty-first birthday so we could give it to my mom as a gift. To thank her for supporting us,” he said.