Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(13)
Author: Kristen Ashley

His head gave a small jerk and he looked over her shoulder, probably, she decided, to gain control.

Then his eyes met hers.

“Their mother died of a brain tumor,” he told her and it sounded like those words were dredged straight out of the depth of some hole inside of him that was too deep to measure.

“I know,” Isabella whispered. “Annie told me.”

“It started with headaches.”

Isabella automatically made a noise as if someone very strong had pressed the breath right out of her lungs.

She was going to cry.

She was going to cry.

Oh no.

No, no, no no, no!

She couldn’t cry!

Her hands fisted, the key bit into her palm, the pain shot through her and she didn’t cry.

Instead, she said, “I’m an idiot.”

He turned away, putting one of his hands back to the steering wheel, the other to the clutch.

“I’ll come up with something else, I promise,” she blathered on.

Only his head turned so he could look at her.

“Food poisoning!” she cried, sounding both stupid and desperate.

“I’m not sure food poisoning is good, Isabella, considering you’ll be cooking.”

Yes, stupid.

Yes, an idiot.

Yes, desperate.

Triple threat!

“Oh, right,” Isabella muttered but he’d already turned back away.

Isabella opened her door, promising again (under her breath this time), “Well, I’ll think of something.”

She barely got the door closed when he drove away.

She stood in the drive watching his SUV thinking she hated pretty much everything about her life, but the thing she hated most at that particular moment was hearing Prentice address her as “Isabella”.

Then she turned and walked up to Fergus’s house.

* * * * *

Fiona

“Flapjacks!” Annie shouted from down the grocery aisle, she was holding up a box of flapjacks in each hand and waving them around. “Kids love flapjacks!”

“I’m not stocking their larder, Annie, I’m making them dinner,” Isabella called back.

“Nothing wrong with stocking that hot guy’s larder, you hear what I’m saying?” Mikey muttered, staring with curiosity at the jam selection.

“Don’t go there,” Isabella warned softly.

“Time heals all wounds,” Mikey was still muttering and his eyes had gone narrow.

Fiona watched closely as Isabella allowed herself an open reaction, considering Mikey was staring at the jams and Annie was tossing flapjacks into the cart Isabella was pushing.

Sorrow.

Unadulterated.

Then she masked it.

No, Fiona thought, time did not heal all wounds.

“Where’s the grape jelly?” Mikey asked the jam selection.

“They don’t have grape jelly here,” Annie explained.

“That’s un-American!” Mikey shrieked, his head turning to Isabella and Annie.

“Well, yeah, considering we aren’t in America,” Annie drawled.

“Kids love grape jelly,” Mikey said with authority.

“American kids like grape jelly, Scottish kids like, I don’t know, marmite,” Annie replied as Isabella pushed the cart forward.

“Marmite?” Mikey asked then pulled an exaggerated horrified face.

Lime marmalade! Fiona shouted her children’s preference.

“Lime marmalade,” Isabella said instantly and Fiona was so shocked she accidentally floated straight through Mikey causing him to shiver.

She hated floating through people and avoided it at all costs, she didn’t feel anything physically, just emotionally, but it made her sadder than her normal sad at being dead when the only thing she could make people feel was cold.

“Cat walked over my grave,” he whispered, doing another shiver just for effect as Isabella grabbed a jar of lime marmalade. Then she grabbed another one.

“I hate lime marmalade, too sweet,” Annie mumbled.

“It’s fruit and sugar and fruit is sugar so there’s no way for it not to be sweet,” Mikey hilariously explained.

No matter how funny he was being, and Fiona had decided she liked Mikey, Fiona wasn’t listening.

She floated close to Isabella and asked, Can you hear me?

“So, I’m thinking chicken strips, fries and some kind of vegetable,” Isabella, clearly not hearing Fiona’s voice from beyond the grave, stated. “What kind of vegetable?”

Peas, Fiona told her.

“Broccoli?” Annie asked.

“I don’t think so. Forget the veggies, kids hate veggies,” Mikey advised and Fiona forgot she liked him and gave him a dirty look.

For the past year, one month, three weeks and five days (and then some, considering she was super sick before she died but her Mum had helped with the cooking then), Prentice hadn’t been great on the nutrition front.

Her kids needed their veg.

“How about green beans?” Annie asked.

Peas! Fiona shouted at Isabella.

“Peas,” Isabella said and Fiona stopped floating along with them, her shock and excitement was too profound.

Good God, could the woman hear her?

She was stunned motionless for so long she had to float up and over the shelves to catch them up on the other side.

“What are you making for dessert?” Mikey asked when Fiona arrived.

“No dessert. I don’t want Prentice to think I’m trying to make them like me,” Isabella answered.

Fiona closed her ghostly eyes.

Yesterday, after her beloved husband told off his hated ex-fiancée, Fiona had wished she could kiss him (not for the first time).

Today, she wished she could kick him (also not for the first time, however, it had been the first time since she’d died).

“You make a mean hot fudge sundae,” Annie said to Isabella.

Sally would love an American hot fudge sundae, Fiona told her excitedly. And Jason’s favorite food in the world is clotted cream ice cream. Make that!

“No dessert,” Isabella said softly but firmly in her weird authoritative voice.

Annie halted, Mikey halted with her and both of them glared at Isabella, Mikey adding a cross of the arms on his chest which made his glare far more effective.

“Okay, Debs was out-of-control yesterday. You shouldn’t be surprised about that, Debs was always out-of-control,” Annie stated. “And Prentice got upset with you but you shouldn’t be surprised about that either. First, you dumped him and never explained, which, I will repeat, for the five thousandth time, you should have. Or you should have let me explain it to him and Dougal and Debs and everybody. Something, which I will remind you, you refused to let me do, about… oh, I don’t know? Five thousand times. Or you should have let Dad say something which he’s been wanting to do for years. And last, Prentice lost his wife and he’s on edge. He’s taking care of two kids, running his own firm, his best friend is blissfully happy and his ex-girlfriend is sleeping under his roof.”