Merry, Merry Ghost

Gina rushed into the kitchen. Her black cashmere turtleneck emphasized the rich plum of slacks that flared wide at the bottom.

I really liked that style, the low snug fit over the hips and a saucy front tie. I’d have to find out what the slacks were called. They were certainly distinctive enough to have a name.

Gina’s gaze jerked to the counter near the stove and a tray covered with a fine damask napkin. Some of the tension eased from her thin face. “I’ll take Susan’s breakfast up.”

Peg looked surprised. “That would be nice. I need to fix Keith more French toast.”

Tucker’s brows drew down in a quick frown. “Hey, let’s get the show on the road. We’ve got to find the right tree.”

Gina was already picking up the tray. “I need to talk to Susan. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

As the swinging door shut behind her, Tucker looked exasperated.

“More coffee?” Peg held up the carafe.

Tucker nodded, his face drawn in a frown. “Gina’s in trouble, isn’t she?”

Peg looked hesitant.

Tucker gripped the mug. “So what else is new? How much does she owe?” His voice was weary.

Outside Susan’s door, Gina hesitated, then gave a brisk nod. She opened the door and called out, “Breakfast.” She carried the tray to the table near Susan’s chair in front of the fake fire.

Susan wore no makeup, but her lovely face looked younger. She smiled at Gina. “Thank you, my dear. I suppose Peg is busy with Keith.” Her smile grew wider, her eyes shone. “Oh, what a happy day. Gina, I haven’t had a happy day in so long.”

Gina’s eyes glistened. “We’re glad for you, Susan. He’s a nice little boy.” She removed the napkin and the cover. “Do you want coffee now?”

At Susan’s nod, Gina poured from the hottle. Then she took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Her voice was shaky.

Some of the light fled Susan’s face. She looked up, gave a tiny sigh. “What’s wrong?”

Gina stood stiff and still, her thin face twisted in despair, her shoulders hunched. “I owe almost forty thousand dollars on my credit cards.”

Susan’s aristocratic features stiffened. Her dark eyes gazed at Gina with a long measuring look. She didn’t speak.

Gina’s hands twisted together. “I know. I’m a fool. But I had that good job for a while and I got so many credit card offers and I signed up and I wasn’t thinking. I was able to make the payments until I lost my job and now I can’t find a job.”

Susan glanced at Gina’s outfit. “I saw those trousers in a Neiman catalog. They were expensive. Bedford pants. Very distinctive.”

Gina stared at the floor.

“You have beautiful clothes. You’ve always liked fine things.” Susan was more grieved than scolding. “You’ve always spent money you didn’t have. Tucker has helped you, hasn’t he? I suppose you’ve asked Jake, too.”

Gina pulled her hands apart, turned them out in appeal. “I’m desperate. I can’t get a job, and I get all these threatening phone calls.”

Susan was brusque. “You were able to make the payments. Don’t you understand, Gina? That’s going into debt. The interest charged is huge. What will happen if I pay the debts? Will you live on what you can earn, buy things only if you have the money to pay for them? Somehow I’m afraid you’ll fall back into your old ways. I don’t know. Maybe this time you will have to work out your problems by yourself.” She made a sudden swift gesture. “I’ll think about what should be done. Let’s not talk any more. I have much to do today.” She turned to her breakfast, her face stern.

Susan gestured with her ebony black cane. “Look toward the back of the closet.” There was a becoming pink flush in her pale cheeks. Her softly waved hair was brushed back, emphasizing her expressive face. Regal in her red silk brocade dressing gown, she was full of cheer. There was no hint of her uncomfortable morning encounter with Gina.

Jake reluctantly stepped into a long cavernous closet with a flashlight in one hand. “What if there are fiddlebacks?”

Susan laughed aloud. “Would a fiddleback dare hide in any house under your supervision?”

Jake’s voice sounded hollow as she slowly moved deeper into the closet. “No one dusts in here. No one’s been in here for years.”

Susan’s face was suddenly somber. Lines of sorrow pulled at her face. “No. Not for years.” She gripped the head of the cane. “At the back, there are boxes with Ellen’s name. Look for the one that reads Carousel.”

“Ooh. A spider.” There was a sound of a stamping foot.

Susan’s expression was a mixture of irritation and amusement.

“I see the box.” Jake’s voice lifted in triumph. “It’s on top. I’m not sure…Yes, I can. Oh, it’s not too heavy.” She stepped into the hall. She held a box out in front of her, gripping it with obvious uneasiness.

Susan led the way, the cane thumping on the floor. She opened the door to the blue room.

Keith sat cross-legged on his bed, stacking his plastic gold coins, patiently picking them up when they slid and fell. Duchess rested at the foot of his bed, golden gaze fixed on the plastic coins. Keith looked up as the door opened, his expression uncertain.