Free Spirit Page 16

  Jacey continued to move around the kitchen, opening boxes and trying to find homes for the items she unpacked. For a single, working female, Priory sure did have a lot of junk. Another box of gadgets, some of which hadn’t even been removed from the original packaging. What was she thinking?

  “I know. I’m a bit of a packrat. I have every intention of using them, but somehow I never get around to it.” Jacey turned to find Priory leaning on the door frame, watching her.

  Jacey twisted the packaging in her hand. “I have no idea what this is.”

  Priory took it and studied it before handing it back. “Neither do I. Maybe we should start a new box for useless gadgets.” She walked over to the sink, retrieved a cup, and filled it with water. “I once took cooking lessons.”

  “A chef, huh?”

  “No, cooking lessons. I could barely boil water. I figured if I didn’t learn I’d be spending everything I earned on takeout.”

  “What’s wrong with that? That’s what I do.”

  “How’s the bank account?”

  “Fine, thank you.” Jacey knew that for a fact. Her bank balance was steadily growing and she was nearly ready for her sabbatical year. Hadn’t she promised herself a year’s break? All she had to do was survive her boss. Now, with the change of circumstances, it wasn’t going to be a problem. Unless, of course, her boss’s mind slid completely off the cracker or their relationship didn’t survive the ravages of time. “You must have been eating expensive stuff.” She, of course, ate more conservatively.

  “Not really.” Priory took a gulp of water. “Maybe it was all a ploy to convince myself I was doing something about my eating habits. Then I got lazy and started buying these things.” She pointed at the gadget in Jacey’s hand. “Probably negated any savings I thought I’d make on the deal.”

  “You could have a yard sale,” Jacey suggested.

  “You expecting to find that much junk?” Priory’s eyebrows rose.

  Jacey glimpsed at the gadget in her own hand. “Maybe.”

  A sly smile crossed Priory’s lips. “Maybe,” she muttered as she left the kitchen. “Maybe.”

  Jacey shook her head and continued the unpacking. Time was short.

  There was a loud knock on the front door.

  “I’ll get it!”

  Jacey glanced up from her position over a deep box. Her hands were full of spoons, ladles, and other equally small, loose objects. She almost threw them on the table when they started to move in her hands. There was a mass of loose kitchen items, and Jacey suspected Priory had been at her wits’ end when packing this particular box.

  The sounds of low voices and the shift of large boxes drew Jacey from the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

  “Just a little surprise.” Priory directed a large man into the living room. “Over there.” He deposited a box on the floor, then returned to his van outside.

  “That’s it?”

  “A surprise?” Dylan made an appearance near the ceiling.

  “Yeah, a surprise.” Priory didn’t say anything more.

  “For me?”

  Priory grinned wickedly. “Yeah. Now get out of here before you’re seen.”

  “That wasn’t nice.”

  “I know.” Priory turned her attention to the returning delivery man and his fellow worker. “You can put it over there in the corner.”

  A massive tree faced Jacey, as the two men manhandled it into one corner of the living room. “Here?” one of them asked.

  Jacey studied the tree. A surprise? Dylan was in for a disappointment.

  “Back a little,” Priory answered. “No, a little more. Now to the left. No, right. Now forward.”

  Jacey didn’t need to look to know that the men wrestling with the tree had reached their adjustment limit. If Priory wasn’t satisfied soon, she would be left with a barren tree and two very angry men.

  Jacey butted in. “That’s fine, thank you.”

  Two healthy, long sighs filled the room. “We’ll get the rest of the boxes,” one man said.

  After the men had left, Priory spoke. “I wasn’t ready.”

  “If you took any longer, you’d be wearing that tree. You better make the tip worthwhile.”

  “Tip? Isn’t that included in the delivery fee?”

  “Don’t get cheap now.”

  Another sigh was heard, this time from Priory as she walked into the kitchen. “This better be worth it….”

  “Can I look yet?” Dylan’s disembodied voice asked excitedly.

  Jacey and Priory answered in unison. “No.”

  “I like presents. The last one I got was a new pair of hose. Little good that did me, though.”

  “Shhhhh.” Jacey had barely made the noise when the two men returned with more boxes. “How much stuff did you buy?”

  “I wasn’t sure what I needed, so I bought the lot.”

  “No wonder you have kitchen utensils coming out your ears. You can’t help yourself.”

  Priory pressed some bills into the larger man’s hand. “Thanks very much.”

  He looked at the notes. Jacey just knew he was deciding which farewell to use according to how big the tip was. “You’re welcome, ma’am.” At least she wasn’t completely cheap.

  Jacey followed them to the door. “Thank you,” she called as the two men closed the back door and slipped into their truck. As the vehicle gunned its engine, she closed the door. This was, as far as she knew, the first time a stranger had been in her boss’s house without incident. It seemed Priory had found Dylan’s price for peace.

  She returned to the living room and stood in front of the tree. “Now what?”

  Priory emerged from the kitchen, phone in one hand and a knife in the other.

  Jacey looked uncertainly at the weapon. “I didn’t mean it.” She held up her hands and stepped away from the conifer.

  “What?” Priory stared at her. “Oh, the knife.” She stepped over to the boxes and proceeded to cut them open. “I wanted to check that we got everything.”

  Jacey looked at the mass of boxes stacked next to the tree. “And then some,” she muttered. “Are you buying for the neighborhood?”

  “I have to make sure this party is Christmassy.”

  “You’ve got Christmas covered for the next hundred years.”

  “Good. Then I’m all set. Come on.”

  “What…?”

  “We’ve got an appointment with the caterers.”

  “What about the boxes?

  “They can wait until we get back.”

  “Do you really need me to go with you?”

  “Sure, it’s our party.”

  “Our party?” Jacey doubted she really meant that. A work party was her boss’s, not hers. Neither Priory nor the CEO was ready for that revelation.

  “Yep. You will spend Christmas with me, won’t you?”

  Jacey heard the doubt, bordering on fear, in Priory’s voice. “What about your family? My family?”

  “They won’t miss me. Besides, I don’t even know where they are at this precise moment. Somewhere on the other side of the world, I think.” Priory looked shyly at her. “What about you?”

  “Welllll….”

  Priory’s body stiffened, as if waiting to be hit. That look of vulnerability, of potential loss, touched Jacey in unexpected ways and she found herself saying yes before she could even think about it. Somehow, she would make it work.

  “Let’s get this disaster sorted out.” Priory reached out and Jacey took her hand. She was content for now to put her life on hold. Priory led her out to the SUV and opened the door for her.

  “Was I missing something in there? Why did you open the boxes when you knew we were going out?”

  “How else was our troublesome duo going to get the decorations out?”

  “Dylan?”

  “Of course Dumbo! You can’t tell me she can resist decorating that tree, can you?”

  “Was that the point?”

  “I said I had a pr
esent for her. Now she’s got to work for it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sound of the vehicle leaving brought Dylan out of hiding. One lousy tree. What was she thinking?

  And buying presents for a ghost isn’t strange? Rhea appeared beside her.

  Still, there’s some boxes here. Maybe it’s in there.

  Are you listening to yourself? Those are probably decorations or something.

  What for?

  Rhea sighed, even though she had no lungs to generate a wind. It’s Christmas, Lanie. Remember?

  Yeah, so?

  She’s having a party, so she needs a tree.

  And we’re not invited.

  Rhea so wanted to slap her lover upside the head. Being a useless exercise, she envisioned it instead. Of course not. Are you nuts?

  Hey! Dylan scowled at her. That wasn’t nice. She buried her head into the box. There’s decorations in here.

  No! Really? Rhea answered sarcastically. Hadn’t she just said that? Why did she have to exist with a woman whose penchant for stating the obvious was staggering?

  You know….

  No! Don’t even think about it!

  Why not? They’re only going to come home and do it themselves.

  Don’t tell me you are going to do them a favor?

  Well, nooooo. Why would I do that? Dylan answered indignantly. I’m trying to get rid of them, remember?

  Uh-huh. Rhea suspected that her partner rather liked Priory, but it would be a cold day in hell before she would admit it.

  What’s this? Dylan pulled out a long metallic cylinder with a top on it.

  If you read the side, it says, “Santa Snow”.

  What is “Santa Snow”?

  As if I’d know. Read what it says.

  It doesn’t say anything. It’s got a picture of snow.

  Thank you, Daisy May. I figured that out myself.

  Dylan applied pressure to the red top. Nothing’s happening.

  Maybe it’s a lid of some sort. Can you get it off?

  Dylan studied the can for a moment or two, turning it one way then the other. She closed her eyes trying to summon the energy that would allow them to move objects. Rhea knew the feeling well. This would be tricky, though, as their experience involved moving objects freely around the room, not popping off lids. Maybe she could help.

  The can shook violently, but Dylan kept her energy focused on the job. Rhea added her own mental power, and the red lid flew across the room, ricocheting around the walls to land in the foliage of the tree.

  Now what?

  Dylan’s incessant questions began to tick Rhea off. How the hell do I know?

  Tsk tsk. Tetchy, tetchy. Dylan placed her transparent finger on the object while mentally applying pressure to the funny little knob at the top, and the can reacted. Hey! A mass of white powder shot right through her to land on the wall. She hovered over to examine it. What is that?

  Rhea refused to answer because she knew her next word would be dripping with annoyance. Instead, she shrugged.

  I better not touch it. It might kill me.

  Oy.

  †

  The meeting with the caterers had been relatively straightforward and took no time at all. Priory convinced Jacey to join her for coffee at a local coffee shop. There was no way Dylan and Rhea could have finished the decorating, and walking in, in the middle of the makeover would be way too embarrassing for both parties.

  “How about some lunch?”

  “How long are you giving them?”

  Priory looked at her watch. An hour and a half had already lapsed. “Another hour should do it.”

  “An awful lot can go wrong in an hour.”

  Jacey was right. She had handed over her house to two ghosts who had no knowledge of the outside world for the past eighty years. She quickly went over the list of items she had bought, and she didn’t think there was much on that list they couldn’t figure out. “Give them a little credit.”

  “Priory, they were barely in the electricity age. Do you have house insurance?”

  “Sure I do. I….” Was she covered for ghosts? She suspected that trying to convince the insurance company of that would be a lost cause. “Remind me to get a pet.”

  “What on earth for?”

  “So I have something to blame when the house burns down.”

  “Hmmm.” Jacey’s response wasn’t heartening.

  “Maybe we should go now.”

  “It’s your house.”

  It only took a moment for Priory to decide. “Hang the embarrassment.” She stood and threw some bills on the table. “Let’s go.”

  The trip in the car was tense. Priory’s fingers ferociously gripped the steering wheel while her lips spread in a tight line.

  “They could surprise us,” Jacey offered. But Priory could hear the doubt in her words.

  “Think so?” she asked hopefully.

  “No.”

  †

  Oh.

  Priory walked into a war zone.

  My.

  Dead and dying Christmas baubles scattered the floor, some still in their cellophane packaging, their shredded bones littering the carpet with tiny shards of metal. Some of the balls had actually made it to the branches but looked like they had been shot out of a cannon, buried neatly in what was left of the tree.

  God.

  Pine needles lay thick on the carpet, and while she stood there a few more fell to the ground, as if the tree were dripping its last few drops of blood.

  The white powder from the cans had been splashed over the windows with messages written with a ghostly finger: Boo! Another held the childlike drawing of a human face poking its tongue out.

  Priory’s mouth opened and closed silently.

  “Oh,” Jacey murmured.

  She shot an angry glance at Jacey. It took a moment for her to realize that the two white foam-shaped figures rested in the corner were the culprits of this crime against Christmas. “What the hell happened?” she bellowed. “I leave you for a couple of hours and I come back to this?”

  “Priory—”

  “Not now, Jacey,” she snapped. “You!” She pointed her finger at the statues. “Yes, you! I’m talking to you two.” Priory stepped closer. “Especially you!” Her finger nearly touched the impressive bumps on the figure.

  Silence.

  “You could at least do me the decency of answering me.” Priory began to shake. “This is the last time I do anything for you!” She was screaming now.

  “Ah, Priory,” Jacey said.

  “What!” she snapped. Jacey encouraged Priory to look in another direction. “Oh.” She moved quickly and stood in Dylan’s personal space … and then some. “What the devil do you think you were doing?”

  Dylan looked at Rhea, then shrugged.

  “Come on! Answer me!”

  Rhea moved closer. “We were trying to do something nice for you.”

  “Nice? Look at this place!”

  “It wasn’t as easy as we thought.”

  “You seemed to do okay with the snow!”

  “That took a bit of practice. I think we did a nice job.” Dylan moved back from Priory’s close proximity and floated over to Rhea.

  “It’s the wrong holiday, you idiot!”

  “You were lucky that we got it on to the window at all. The thing had a mind of its own.”

  “And she is not an idiot!” Rhea seemed to grow in size with her anger. “She is a very loving and loyal woman. And I love her, so watch it!”

  Priory lifted her hands in supplication. It was bad enough to have one nemesis without encouraging a second. “Okay!” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry, but look at this mess!”

  “We tried. We’re not used to moving things around. No one ever stays long enough for us to practice,” Rhea explained.

  “Awww,” Jacey said. “Can we at least give them something to play with?”

  “They’re not pets, Jace.” But she was right. If they were
going to move something in the future, maybe some practice was required. At least she would then have a chance of her possessions remaining in one piece. “What are we going to do about this?”

  “Clean up and start again?” Jacey offered.

  To Priory it looked like a lost cause, but it was the only thing they could do. “Coffee,” she croaked and headed for the kitchen.

  “You said something about doing a favor?” Dylan asked.

  “You heard wrong.”

  “No, I’m sure I heard right. What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I did nothing.” Which was technically true. All she did was open a few boxes. She didn’t say not to touch, instead leaving them to follow their instincts. What a mistake that was. “Jacey, on Monday can you order another tree? We may need to call in the cleaners.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  “We tried to help,” Rhea said.

  “I know, honey. I know,” Jacey answered

  Priory heard the conversation and knew she had no one to blame but herself. “I should have followed my better instincts,” she muttered to the coffee pot.

  “No, it was a good idea.”

  Priory didn’t turn around, instead searching for two mugs. “Yeah. Shame it wasn’t the result I was hoping for.”

  “I don’t know. I think it accomplished something.”

  “Their aim is getting better?”

  Jacey laughed. “That’s a positive. No, I mean at least they participated. They were prepared to meet you halfway.”

  “Halfway to bedlam.” Priory poured the coffee into the mugs and added the milk. She handed one to Jacey, who met her “halfway”. She chuckled. The refrigerator belched. “No comment from the cheap seats.”

  “We might be able to salvage the tree.”

  “It’s supposed to look like a Macy’s window display, not Aunt Priory’s Christmas Special.” Priory sat at the table. “We have less than a week to get this place ready. I’ll have to let Edwards know so he can start looking elsewhere for the party.”

  “Why is the party so early? I mean, there’s still five weeks to Christmas.”

  “Those guys from Australia need to get back home, I suppose. I wasn’t told. I would have thought a plane trip didn’t take that long. Unless they’re going by boat, in which case they’ll be too late.”