'She does. You got your eye on my Lena already?”
He was a little flustered to realize he'd spoken out loud, so he tried a grin. 'Well, we established I like girls, right?”
She gave the table a little slap to punctuate the laugh as she rose. 'I like you just fine, Declan.”
He liked her, too. Enough that he decided to buy a couple of chairs after all, so she'd have somewhere to sit when she came by. He'd find something on Saturday, he thought as he went back to prepping the kitchen walls. He could hunt some down in the afternoon, before he was due to have dinner with Remy and Effie.
Then, he'd cap off the evening with a drink at Et Trois.
And if Lena wasn't working that night, he'd just walk back out and throw himself in front of a speeding car.
He worked until well after dark, then treated himself to a beer along with his Hungry-Man chicken dinner. He ate sitting on a sawhorse and admiring the progress of the kitchen.
The walls were stripped, repaired and prepped for paint. His pencil marks on them indicated the measurements of the cabinets he would start to build the next day. He'd even tried his hand at pointing up the bricks in the hearth, and didn't think he'd done a half-bad job of it. The old pine flooring was exposed and protected now with drop cloths. He'd finally settled on the traffic pattern, and had earmarked the spots for the range and the refrigerator.
If he couldn't find the right china cabinet for the long wall, he'd damn well build that, too. He was on a roll.
He carried a bottle of water upstairs, took his now-traditional nine-minute shower, then stretched out on the bed with his notes, drawings and books. Halfway through adjusting his plans for the front parlor, he conked out.
And woke, shivering with cold, in full dark. The baby had wakened him. The thin cries were still in his ears as he sat straight up with his heart banging like a hammer against his ribs.
He didn't know where he was, only that he was on the floor instead of in bed. And it was cold enough that he could see the white mist of his own breath pluming into the inky dark.
He rolled over, gained his feet. Reaching out like a blind man, he felt at the air as he took a cautious step forward.
Lilies. His body shuddered as he registered the scent. He knew where he was now– –in the room down the hall from his own. The room, like the one on the third floor, he'd so carefully avoided over the last several days.
He was in it now, he thought as he took another shuffling step. And though it was insane, he knew he wasn't alone.
'You can scare me. But you won't scare me away.”
His fingers brushed something solid. He yelped, snatched them back an instant before he realized it was a wall. Taking several steadying breaths, he felt his way along it, bumped over trim, tapped over glass. Fumbling, he found the knob for the gallery doors and flung them open.
The January air felt warm and heavy against his chilled skin. He stumbled forward, gripped the rail. The night was like the inside of a cave. The old adage was true, he decided. There was no dark like country dark.
When his eyes adjusted to it, he turned back, pulled the door to the room firmly closed.
'This is my house now.' He said it quietly, then walked down the gallery, opened the door of his bedroom, and went back inside.
'Sleepwalking?' Remy scooped up another forkful of rice.
'Yeah. I went through it for about six months when I was around eleven.' Declan shrugged, but couldn't quite dismiss the weight of it.
He hadn't meant to bring it up, at least no more than in passing. The dinner Effie had fixed in Remy's Garden District apartment was welcome, as was the company. But somehow he'd gone from telling them about the progress of the rehab to his nighttime adventures.
'It must be terrifying,' Effie said, 'to wake up and find yourself somewhere else.”
'Spooky anyway. It's funny I'd end up at the two rooms that make me the most uneasy. Or, I guess it's logical. Some subconscious deal.”
'As long as you stay inside the house,' Remy put in. 'I don't want to hear you've sleepwalked your way into the swamp.”
'That's a nice thought. Thanks.”
'Remy.' Effie slapped his hand. 'I think you should see a doctor,' she told Declan. 'You could take something to help you sleep better.”
'Maybe. Been there a week, and it's only happened twice. Anyway, taking a couple of tranqs isn't going to do anything about the ghost.”
'It's just drafts and old wood settling.”
Remy grinned. 'Effie doesn't believe in ghosts.”
'Or in tarot cards or reading tea leaves or any such nonsense.' Her voice was prim, and just a little defensive.
'My girl, she's very grounded in the here and the now.”
'Your girl just has good sense,' she shot back. 'Dec, it just stands to reason you'd have some strange feelings, staying way out there in that big old house all alone. And I bet you're not eating right, either. You ought to live here with Remy for a while, until you get used to things.”
'She won't.' Remy jerked his head in Effie's direction.
'I'll live with you when we're married, and not before.”
'Oh, but, chиre. May's so far away. I miss you when you're not here.' He took her hand, kissing it lavishly as he spoke.
'Tell you what, Effie, you come out and stay with me for a few nights. Strictly platonic,' he said with a grin as Remy narrowed his eyes. 'I bet you shift your stand on ghosts after one or two nights.”
'Sorry. I'm a city girl. What do you do out there all by yourself, Declan, when you're not working?”
'Read. And speaking of that, I need to come by the library, see if you can help me dig up more about Manet Hall. I've been taking a few whacks at the garden, too. Take walks. Drove over to visit Miss Odette.”
'You met Miss Odette?' Remy asked as he polished off his dinner. 'Something, isn't she?”
'I really liked her. Truth is, the house is keeping me so busy I usually drop off by ten at night. I finally got a TV hooked up, and I never think to turn it on. But I did buy a table and chairs this afternoon, and some other things.”
It was always a mistake, he chided himself, to let him through the door of an antique shop.
'We're not going to have you locking yourself out there and working yourself to the bone,' Effie decided. 'I expect you to come into town and see us at least once a week from now on. And Remy, you should start going out there on Saturdays and giving Dec a hand. Spending too much time alone,' she declared as she pushed back from the table. 'That's what's wrong with you. Now, y'all ready for pie?”
Maybe she was right, Declan thought as he hunted up a place to park. If she wasn't right, Effie was certainly definite. He'd try mixing it up a little more. He could drive into town once or twice a week for a real meal. Maybe have Remy and Effie out for one-a very informal one.
He could spend an evening reading something other than research.
More, he thought. He was going to gear himself up soon and push himself through the mental block he'd erected about the third-floor room.
He had to park a block and a half from Et Trois, but when he stepped in, saw Lena at the bar, he thought the walk had been worth it.
He couldn't even snag a stool tonight, but he did manage to squeeze between customers and claim a corner of the bar. The music was loud and lively, and so was the crowd.
There was a blond behind the bar tonight in addition to its owner and Dreadlock Guy. Each of them was hopping.
Lena flicked him a glance as she served two drafts and a gin fizz.
'Corona?”
'Better make it a Coke.”
