Page 11 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

"Cora," Beverly says as though she is speaking to a child, "people have been trying to cheat death since the beginning of time. Zombies and vampires have come quite close, but their existence comes at a cost. But you are completely human, or as near to it as possible. It can't have happened spontaneously for no reason. Someone or something caused this to happen. We can be glad of it, of course, but people will be after you. They will seek to know the secret of your existence. They will want that power for themselves. And who knows what havoc such knowledge could wreak on the world?

"Or..." Beverly pauses ominously. "Someone out there already has the power to resurrect the dead. Why they chose you, I have no idea. But I am sure they won't be happy about your escape."

I take another bite of cookie as I think about her words. The food is so comforting. It feels warm in my stomach. "You think I'm in danger."

"I'm certain of it," she says.

I shake my head. "But what if we find out the answer to why I am here and, thus, the mystery of me is solved and I get...you know..." I wave my hand toward the ceiling. "Summoned to whatever is next?"

"You don't want to complete your journey?" she asks.

"No!" I practically yell. "As I said, this is my second chance at life. A real life. A long life. I don't want to waste it worrying about what might have been or what could have been or some fabled 'unfinished business.' I want to live, Beverly. Can't you see that?"

"Of course, I understand," she says. "At least, I sympathize. I can't imagine what you have been through, stuck in limbo for hundreds of years. Watching life pass you by. The abject loneliness. It must have been terrible."

"It was," I say, my eyes waiting again. "It was hell on earth. I wouldn't wish such an existence on my worst enemy. Even on Jeremiah Holland. When he died, I hope he found peace."

"Jeremiah Holland," Beverly says thoughtfully. "That was the man who--"

"Murdered me," I say, finishing her sentence. "Yes. I remember... I remember him standing over me. My throat closed up. I couldn't breathe. His was the last face I saw before everything went dark. Before I then woke up and no one could see me or hear me."

Beverly nods. "As I said, I sympathize, my dear. But for now, I think we need to keep your existence quiet. We will just say you are a distant relative who has come to visit. Though you must understand, I will have to look into this further."

"I wish you wouldn't," I say.

"I know. But as a senior member of the Mystic Cove coven and member of the town council, I need to know what is going on in my town. And I feel that the only way I can really protect you is to find out how you ended up here in the first place."

"I understand," I say. "But don't expect me to help you."

"That will make things much harder for me," she says.

I shrug. "I have to do what is best for me right now."

"Fine," she says with a sigh. She looks out the window and I can see that the sun is rising. "Well, no sense making you up a bed for the night."

"I couldn't sleep anyway," I say. "I feel as though I've slept enough for the next hundred years."

"I will have to see if I can find you some more appropriate clothes. Do you want to help me open The Book Coven this morning?"

"More than anything," I say.

CHAPTER 6

I wanted to continue wearing my own clothes, but Beverly insisted that I change. She even made me hand over my undergarments. She said they wouldn't be flatting under more modern clothes. And I suppose she was right. Modern clothes are so thin and... Well, barely there. I'm used to wearing a shift, petticoats, and stays. Modern clothes are typically one layer, with the undergarments barely qualifying as a layer of their own. She offered me some pants at first, but I was so horrified at the idea of wearing them, she quickly took them away. I have watched firsthand as fashions changed, and while I am not generally scandalized by the clothes women wear today, the idea of wearing them myself, in public, was more than I could bear. Besides, it is much too cold out.

We finally settled on stockings, a bra and underwear, a long skirt, a wooly sweater, and a jacket. I insisted on at least wearing my own boots. When it came to my hair, I decided to do something very daring and let it flow freely. I was still quite young when my mother started plaiting my hair, and when I was twelve, she started pinning it up like a proper lady. I cannot remember a time when I wore my hair down in public. The notion did make me feel quite modern. When I glimpsed myself in the mirror--something I had been unable to do since the morning I died--I hardly recognized myself. The nearest thing I had to a mirror was the painting of myself that hung in The Book Coven, and it was not the most accurate representation. In the modern clothes, I looked more like Beverly's granddaughter than her great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. And, of course, I am so out of sorts in this new world, I feel like a child.

I cannot help but moan with pleasure when we step into Jumpin' Beans, the coffee shop very near The Book Coven, to grab some food and beverages. The entire line of people stares at me quizzically, and I can feel my face burn in embarrassment. The proprietress, Oliva, looks at me for a long moment before taking Beverly's order.

"Sorry," Oliva says, "I was having a bit of Deja Vu. You seem so familiar."

"I get that a lot," I say, eyeing Beverly.

"This is my niece, Cora," Beverly says easily. "She has the Barnes way about her, doesn't she."

"I thought all the Barneses lived in Mystic Cove," Oliva says as she puts muffins, croissants, and quiches into a box while her assistant fills cups of coffee.

"Well, life is just full of surprises," Beverly says. "How are things going with Adrian?"

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