Read The Things I Do For You Online
Authors: Mary Carter
The Things I Do For You (25 page)
Chapter 24
PLEASE SIGN OUR GUEST BOOK!
Thank you for my stay. I heard noises in the night. It sounded very creaky. I heard footsteps and a loud screaming. Nobody believed me. Then they heard it too. Then they believed me. I should have earneded my ghost badge. But they don’t have a ghost badge. They should have a ghost badge. Because I would have earneded it.
Megan Girl Scout Troup #14
P.S. Did you take Dahlia’s cookies? She is really really mad.
Keeper’s Log
Brad
Brad
Thank you, dear readers, for following this amateur keeper’s humble blog. I will attempt to answer some of your insightful questions below.
Full moons. Half moons. Crescent moons. Crickets. The sounds of life on the river. A gentle rhythmic sloshing. Fish plopping. Birds chirping and singing. Ducks clucking. Frogs croaking. I’ve even grown to like the gentle buzz of mosquitoes. Tugboat horns.
Canadian ducks. Wood geese. Osprey. Beavers. Frogs. Bald eagles!!!!!!
I am thinking of turning the two front rooms into a miniature museum. The antique store has some nice memorabilia that I’m pretty sure I could mark up by fifty percent (am I starting to sound like my wife?), and I can get photocopies of original lighthouse plans and pictures from the library and county clerk’s office. I’m also very excited about the postcards. They should be back from the printers any day now. It’s a gorgeous shot of the keeper’s house and lighthouse taken by yours truly at sunrise. Do you know how many times I saw the sunrise in Manhattan? Zero. Here? Every single day. Bailey seemed to like the museum idea (as long as she’s not running it) but she also wants to play up the ghost angle. The other day she suggested turning the third floor into Edga Penwell’s original room. She even suggested adding a hanging noose! I’m very worried about her and I think I convinced her that her idea was not only morbid, but slightly deranged. I probably shouldn’t have used those words. Bailey never forgets anything.
I’m just starting to understand tide charts. Sometimes the tide clock in the kitchen works perfectly, other times it’s way off. Unlike my dear wife, I do not think anything supernatural is controlling the clock. Also, I think I’ve figured out what is wrong with the light. I’m convinced it’s a simple wiring problem. So much for Bailey’s ghost. The Coast Guard should have it fixed soon.
Last night two Coast Guarders, Joe and Mike, stopped by for peach pie and coffee. Although we bought this one in town, it would be nice if we started baking our own pies. Next time I’m in town, I’ll pop into the bakery and see if I can charm the recipe out of Madge.
The section of dock leading up to the keeper’s house is sagging under from loose and rotted boards. Bailey’s right, I need to fix them before someone gets hurt.
Okay, yes, once in a while people complain they hear music at night. They say it sounds like a music box, only ten times louder. Footsteps, creaking, and moaning have also been reported. Guests who stay on the third floor often report small items missing. If it continues, I’m going to install cameras and recording devices to get to the bottom of it.
We’re booked solid for the next two months!!!!!
What do I think about the kiss? Who sent me this question? What kiss?
Bailey had never been a morning person. It took her several minutes of rubbing her eyes and staring for the large black object at the foot of the bed to really come into focus. A guitar case. Brad was already out of bed. She pulled the case close to her and ran her hands along the top of the case. She couldn’t believe it. How sweet. She opened it. It was an oldie but goodie as far as she could tell. Brad probably bought it at the secondhand shop in town. She gently lifted it out and strummed. She could really learn to play it this time. She and Brad could play duets at night on the patio. Make beautiful music together. This could only mean one thing. He didn’t know about the kiss.
Bailey tried forgetting about it. She cleared out the front two rooms that Brad wanted to turn into a museum gift shop. She roped off the broken section of the dock and put an orange cone in the middle of it. She made a peach pie. Brad had gone on and on about the one from Madge’s. Was she actually jealous of an aging, overweight baker? And just when she finally thought she could breathe again, when it had all blown over, she saw Angel hanging around Jake. They had taken to kayaking together in the mornings. Angel was going to tell Brad about the kiss, Bailey just knew it. She took her cell phone up to the lighthouse tower and called Jesse. As soon as Jesse answered, Bailey launched in with all the drama.
“Girl Scouts are mean. A horny elderly couple almost broke the bed, I kissed another man, and Brad bought me a guitar.” There was a few seconds of silence before Jesse replied.
“Despite my striking array of options, darling, you do know which subject I’m going to insist you expand upon.” Bailey smiled. She loved when Jesse morphed into her thirties movie-star voice. “And before you start in on the jokes,” Jesse continued, “I was a tomboy. So I don’t give a shit about the Girl Scouts, and nobody wants to hear about blue-hairs doing the nasty.”
“All right,” Bailey said. “The guitar it is!”
“Bailey.”
“All right, all right. Remember Jake?”
“Oh no.”
“He kissed me. I just kind of stood there and let him.”
“Oh my God.”
“Seconds, Jesse. It was over in seconds.”
“You’re talking to a nurse in the emergency ward. Seconds can mean the difference between life and death.”
“Should I tell Brad?”
“Is Jake still camped out on your lawn?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, boy.”
“But Angel’s still perched in our attic.”
Jesse laughed. “First Allissa and now Angel,” she said. “You’ve had a rough year.”
“Yes,” Bailey said. “Sending hot blondes to earth to tempt my husband and torment me. The big guy does have a sense of humor. But speaking of the Fairytalers, we haven’t heard from them since we moved in.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I almost want to use Allissa to drive Angel out. Kind of like getting a cat to get rid of a rat.” The two laughed, enjoying the same sense of humor. “So,” Bailey said. “When are you coming out?”
“Thought you’d never ask. Guess who has next weekend off.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t kiss anybody else until I get there.”
Bailey made up her mind. She was going to tell Brad about the kiss. What choice did she have? Angel was going to tell him, or had already told him, although if that was the case, Brad was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. Their new guests were a young French couple with an adorable baby, and a middle-aged man who was way into bird-watching. All of them had risen early; the couple was off to the city for the day (although Bailey tried to warn them it was too long a trip for one day), and the man was apparently out bird-watching. Bailey had hoped the couple would stay around so that Brad could see how adorable their baby was, but she was learning there was no controlling their guests. Just over two hours to Manhattan and two hours back. Ridiculous. They should have just stayed closer to the city. But they insisted on doing it anyway. Maybe they didn’t understand English as well as she thought they did. The third booking canceled at the last minute, which meant they were charged anyway. The woman wasn’t happy, but Bailey gently reminded her that there was a twenty-four-hour cancellation policy.
Even Angel and Jake had gone on some all-day hike. If you didn’t count Tree, who was busy digging holes in their yard, Bailey was all by her lonesome. And although she had always been an animal person, Bailey hadn’t really bonded with the dog, but Brad sure had. Usually once a day Bailey would come across Brad hugging the beast to his chest, rubbing his head and cooing, “Who’s my boy?” Bailey and Brad were alone for the first time since the summer began. This was her chance to come clean. Besides, if anyone had a couple of free passes coming, it was Bailey. After all Brad had put her through this past year, he certainly couldn’t justify getting upset over a harmless kiss.
It was the perfect moment. Brad was happy because the Coast Guard had fixed the light. Bailey was too—after all, what was a lighthouse without the light? She hadn’t realized how much she missed the gentle pulse at night. She was even getting used to being on the deck of the tower, especially during the day. Plunging to your death seemed less likely when the sun was shining across bright blue skies. Bailey met Brad outside and suggested a walk along the river.
“We’re booked solid,” Brad said as they started off.
“I know,” Bailey said. “And Jesse is coming next weekend.” Brad put his arm around Bailey’s shoulders and pulled her in.
“Thank you for the guitar,” Bailey said. “That was so sweet.”
“What?” Brad said.
“Funny,” Bailey said.
“I don’t get it,” Brad said.
“Are you going to teach me, or should I try and take lessons in town?”
“Is this about the other day?”
Bailey breathed in the warm summer air. She was just trying to thank him for a present and let him know she was going to actually use it. Was it just her or was every conversation they had lately more complicated than it had to be? “I’m not sure what you’re referring to—I’m just thanking you for the guitar.”
“The séance. Or whatever it was. I didn’t mean you had to run out and buy a guitar. Unless you wanted to, of course. But, Bailey, I haven’t heard you mention the guitar in years.”
“Then why did you buy me one?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t buy me a guitar.”
“No. But if I was supposed to, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“Brad. When I woke up this morning there was a guitar at the foot of our bed. I assumed it was from you.” Bailey could tell by the frustrated look on his face that he had no idea what she was talking about.
“You have an admirer, huh?”
“Doubt it,” Bailey said. “Or maybe it’s for you. It’s not like there was a name on it.”
“Show me.” They climbed back into the tower and descended the spiral stairs to their loft. Bailey was relieved to see the guitar still sitting at the foot of the bed. For a split second she’d feared it would be gone, like a suspense movie in which dead bodies kept disappearing. Brad examined the guitar.
“It’s a decent one,” he said.
“I thought so,” she said.
“It was just sitting here? Like this?”
“Pretty much,” Bailey said. “Except the case was closed.” She turned the lid down. There was nothing on the outside of the case to give them any clues.
“It’s either Angel, Jake, the French couple, or the bird-watcher,” Brad said, listing them on his fingers.
“You forgot the baby and the dog,” Bailey joked.
“Angel is the only one who was in the group meeting the other night,” Brad said. “When you talked about playing the guitar.”
“I might have mentioned it to Jake the other day,” Bailey said.
“Oh?”
“We went for a walk.”
“Okay.” Brad appeared to be watching her very closely, as if bracing himself for something. Was Bailey right? Did he suspect something?
“He’s a young flirt, just like you,” Bailey said. “You know how Aunt Faye is always kissing you on the lips?”
“Uh-huh,” Brad said.
“Well, at the end of the walk, before I even knew what was happening, he kissed me on the lips.”
“He what?” And there it was, a twinge of jealousy. Maybe this was good. Maybe this was what they needed.
“I was as surprised as you were—”
“I’m not surprised. I’m livid.”
“Livid? Come off it. I just told you it was nothing.”
“Right. Like kissing your aunt Faye.”
“Exactly. And besides, I reminded him that I was a married woman, and still very much in love.”
“Did you?”
“Of course.”
“Then you must have known the kiss wasn’t nothing. If the kiss was nothing, you wouldn’t have had to say something, now would you?”
“Brad. You know me. I get so paranoid.”
“Well, that makes two of us. Because when I hear that some guy is going around kissing my wife and giving her guitars, I get a little paranoid too.”
“We don’t know it’s from him,” Bailey said.
“No? Who then? Angel? You two aren’t exactly BFFs.”
“That’s because she only has eyes for my husband.”
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