1

“A bed and breakfast,” Claire Tucker said.

Parker King looked up from the piece of lumber he was measuring.  “What about a bed and breakfast?”

Claire wrapped one arm around her middle and slid it under the other holding her morning coffee.  “I’ve decided I want to turn this place into a bed and breakfast.”

Parker tucked his pencil behind his ear.  “You’ll have to do some research and come up with a solid business plan but it sounds like a great idea.”

He got back to work, double checking his measurement.

“The house is really coming along.  Have I told you how grateful I am that you took on the general contractor role?” she asked.

“You have, and it’s my pleasure.  It gives me an excuse to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and as an added bonus I get to spend time with you.”

She wrapped her free hand around Parker’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.  The measuring tape snapped back in his hand.  She tried not to laugh.

“Sorry.  Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said, flexing his fingers.

Claire glanced down at her watch.  “Ooh, I have to go.  Remember the interview I told you about at Nora’s Cafe?  If I leave now, I can walk and make it on time.  It’s a beautiful day.  Wish me luck.”

Parker kissed the tip of her nose.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Claire’s laughter drifted out into the morning sunshine.  She was more than ready to embrace the thought of a new job.  It wouldn’t be a glamorous position, counter help at the downtown bakery, but money was money and prestige didn’t matter.  Her life felt great right now.  She glanced back over her shoulder at her Aunt Gert’s house, so glad she had decided to stay and make it her own, and even more so that Parker King stuck around to help her out.

She whistled along with the singing birds as she followed the sidewalk toward the center of town.  The century-old, brick library came into sight first, next to the real estate office with its manicured landscape, the bank, and then the beginning of the town square.  She strolled past the gazebo where she kissed Parker impulsively on their first official date, and again she smiled.  Something she had been doing for weeks.  The giddy feeling carried her right through the front door of Nora’s Cafe.

A woman wearing a pink, frilly apron appeared behind a gleaming, dish lined counter.  The various glass containers and plates sparkling in the sunlight held picture-perfect baked goods of all kinds.  Claire inhaled the smell of warm cinnamon wafting through the air and instantly fell in love with the homey atmosphere.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted.

“Hi, I’m Claire Tucker.  I’m here for the interview.”

“Oh, yes, I’m Nora.”  The woman wiped her flour-coated hands on a towel and motioned to a stool at the end of the counter.  Claire sat down.  Nora poured her a cup of coffee and slid a plate of pastries in front of her.

“Thank you,” Claire said.

Nora nodded.  “Don’t think of this as an interview, just a friendly conversation.  I don’t believe in being formal, or fussy.”

Claire liked the woman’s honesty.  Her warm smile and laid back attitude would make any job she had to offer perfect.

“What would you like to know about me?” Claire asked.

Nora leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms.  “Only one thing.  Can you bake?”

“Yes.  It’s been a while, but my Aunt Gert taught me everything I know.”

Nora’s dark, hand drawn brow lifted, pushing up her forehead and the dark beehive of hair piled on top.  “I thought you reminded me of someone.  Your Aunt was Gertrude Tucker.”  It was more of a definitive statement than a question.  “I see the resemblance.”

“Yes, she was.  Thank you,” Claire said.

Nora tilted her head from side to side, assessing Claire.  “Gertrude was an excellent baker and quite the talker.  You seem friendly, too.  You’re hired.”

Claire came close to spitting out her coffee.  She dabbed her mouth with a napkin.  “Wow.  That was the shortest interview…uh, conversation, I’ve ever had.  Are you sure you don’t need any references or anything?”

“No honey.  The only thing I’m worried about is keeping my shop filled with baked goods and happy customers.  If you can help me with that, we’ll get along fine.”

“Absolutely.  I can’t wait to start.”

“Good, because I’ll need you here at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

2

“To your new job,” Parker said, clinking his wine glass against Claire’s.  “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”  She settled into the sofa and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace enjoying the blissful moment.  Parker’s voice drew her gaze from the fire to his baby blue eyes.

“Have you given your Bed and Breakfast idea any further thought?  Maybe a name?”

“No,” she said.

Parker studied the room.  “The interior of the house has come a long way.  It’s too bad, though, that it isn’t a bit closer to town.  Although, the walk is scenic and it’s a quiet location.”

Claire began to bounce.

Parker studied her growing smile.  “I’m not sure I’m ready for what that look means.”

“Tucked Away.”

“I don’t follow.”

Claire scrambled to sit on her knees and face him.  “The name.  Tucked, for Tucker, get it?  And it’s out of the way, so Tucked Away.  The Tucked Away B and B.”  She held her hands up as if it was obvious.

“Your mind works in mysterious ways,” he said.  He cupped her face and drew her in.  She curled up on his lap and let his kiss carry her away until his phone rang.

Parker dropped his forehead to hers.  “Why does this always happen?”

“Well, at least there aren’t any spiders,” she said.

Parker moved her off his lap and with a quick stride exited the room to take the call.  Claire giggled at her little joke but her smile faded as she thought about Gert.  She wondered if her Aunt knew how happy Parker made her.  Having him there, even if it was to work on the house, made her content. If only she could somehow let Gert know.

Parker returned to the room with a scowl.

“You have to go,” she surmised.

“I need a different career,” he said under his breath.

“Does that mean maybe you’ll help me with the B and B?” she asked.

“I might be persuaded,” he said, his scowl lightening up into a faint smile.

“Hm,” Claire said, “Let’s see what I can do to convince you.”  She stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist, brushing a light kiss on his chin and then his mouth.

“I’m convinced.  I think I’ll call the sheriff and tell him to make up some charge to keep his suspect locked up.  I quit.”

“Wow, you’re easy,” she said.

Parker chuckled.  “You’re hard to resist.”

She flashed him a grin then grasped his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the door.  “You’d better go.  You don’t want that ornery Sheriff to lose his temper.”

Parker laughed outright.  “I’ll see you tomorrow evening?”

“Count on it.  I’m going to lock up behind you and head for bed.  I have an early morning.  Don’t want to be late on my first day.”  She leaned against the door as Parker stepped out onto the porch.  He turned back and kissed her.

“Sweet dreams,” he said.

3

Claire tied her pink, frilly apron, excited about her first day on the job.  She turned to Nora who was loading a glass pedestal dish with cookies.

“Thank you for hiring me.  It’s costing more than I expected to renovate my aunt’s house.”

“Isn’t it your house now?” Nora asked.

Claire unnecessarily wiped down the spotless counter.  “Technically, yes, but it will always be Aunt Gert’s to me.”

“Your Aunt Gertrude was a sweet woman,” Nora said.  “She’d be thrilled, I’m sure, to know you decided to settle in our little town and stay in her house.”

“Thank you.  I think she would be impressed with the changes to her place.”

Nora inspected her cookie display.  “I give you credit, Claire.  That is quite a project to take on.”

“It is.  Thank goodness for Parker.  He is doing a wonderful job overseeing all the details.  If it wasn’t for him I don’t know what I would do.  He’s so sweet.”

“Don’t we know it,” Nora said.  She nodded at the women sitting around the bistro tables with their morning coffees.  “How ‘bout it ladies?”

A wave of affirmative nods and agreement spread around the cafe.  Nora planted her hands on her hips and tilted her beehive hair at Claire.  “Parker King is quite the catch.  You are one lucky woman.”

Claire blushed and adjusted the napkins in the silver dispenser.  “I didn’t realize how popular he is.”

“He’s an unobtainable legend,” Nora said.  “Like a leprechaun.”

Claire’s brows drew together.  “I’m sorry?”

“You know,” the woman said, with a flick of her hand.  “We all see the rainbow but we don’t quite know what it takes to get our hands on the pot of gold.”

Giggles and snickers filled the fragrant air.

Claire busied herself with the coffee pot.  “In a small way, it was because of Aunt Gert that I met Parker.  I miss her.  What I wouldn’t give to talk to her again.”

Nora looked up from the tray of doughnuts she slid into the front case.  “You can.”

“I can?” Claire asked.  She poured refills for the two elderly sisters sitting at the counter, nodding at her.

“You certainly can,” they said in unison.

Claire’s head swiveled from the two women to Nora.  She gripped the coffee pot tighter.  “How?”

“Hold a séance,” Nora said.

“A séance?” Claire asked.  She began to feel like a parrot and hoped no one noticed.  Nora’s growing excitement and lack of pause told her she had nothing to worry about.

“Yes, you know, with a medium,” Nora said.  “Someone who speaks with those who have passed over into the beyond.  I know just the woman.”

“We know her, too,” the gray-haired sisters answered in harmony.  Mumbles of “oh, yes,” and “me, too,” bubbled from the crowd.

“In fact,” Nora said, “she is quite the celebrity here in town.  Everyone is holding seance parties and she is quite in demand.  If you’d like to talk to your Aunt Gert I encourage you to contact Madame Voya immediately.”

“Yes, yes,” one of the sister’s said.  “I have a card with her information on it.”  The woman peeked into the vast space of her duffle sized handbag sitting on her lap, smashed between her body and the counter.  She stirred around the contents then gave the bag a hearty shake.  “It’s in here somewhere.  I took extras for just such an occasion.”  With a triumphant smile, the woman produced what she had been searching for, and handed it over.  “Here you go.”

Claire studied the red and black business card with the simple wording Madame Voya — Medium in gold lettering, and a phone number at the bottom.

“Huh,” Claire said.  “Thank you.  I think I will give her a call when I get home.”

“Oh, no, dear.  You should call her now,” Nora said.  She nodded toward the pastel yellow phone anchored on the wall.  Nora and the two sister’s all smiled in agreement.  Claire’s gaze followed the trail of nodding heads bobbing around all the tables.

She looked back down to the card.  No matter what she thought, she couldn’t offend the woman who gave her a job, not in the first ten minutes of her first day anyway.  She didn’t wish to affront the customers all sitting around watching with equal interest, either.

“Yes, I suppose you are right.”

She stepped over to the sunny fossil hanging in front of her.  Her fingers trembled as she dialed the numbers.  It seemed as if the entire female population of the town bore their interested gazes into her back, waiting to hear every word of what she said.  No doubt to repeat later as fuel for the local gossip mill.  How had she gotten herself into this situation?

But if she could talk to Aunt Gert, even for a moment, then it would be worth it.  She wondered how Parker would react to what she was about to do.

4

“You’re still here?” Claire asked Parker when she walked through the front door.

He had a drill in his hand and a puzzled expression on his face.  “Is it five o’clock already?  I guess I lost track of time.”

Claire peeled off her coat and it dropped to the floor before she realized the coat rack was missing.

“Sorry about that,” Parker said, as she picked up the jacket.  “Casualty of a two by four.  Smashed into bits.”  He shrugged.

She tossed the coat over a nearby chair.  “The chaos won’t last forever.  Will it?”

Parker chuckled.  “No.  It will all be worth it in the end.  Trust me.”

“Why not.  I love chaos.”

She dropped onto the sofa and stretched out.  Parker sat down and moved her feet onto his lap.

“How was your first day?” he asked.

“Great.  I like Nora, and you turned out to be an interesting topic of conversation.”

“Me?” he asked.  “Why?  What did you say?”

“I didn’t have to say anything.  All the ladies had their own opinions to share.  You are quite popular.  Like a leprechaun.”

Parker’s forehead wrinkled.  She giggled, then closed her eyes and let out a soft moan as Parker rubbed her foot.

“Those ladies sure do like to talk,” she said.

“Yeah?  About what?” Parker asked.  “Besides me, and leprechauns,” he added in an unamused tone.

“Do you believe in life after death?”

“Huh?” Parker’s hands stilled and Claire slid up into a sitting position.

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” she asked.

“I never gave it any thought,” he answered.  “Why?”

“Do you believe people can communicate with spirits?”

He laid a hand on her forehead.  “Are you feeling okay?  Where is this going?”

Claire crossed her legs and wiggled into a comfortable position.  “Funny you should ask.  I have a story to tell you.”

“Oh, boy,” Parker said.

“This morning Nora and I had a nice conversation about the house,” she tilted her hand toward Parker, “you,” she smiled, “and Aunt Gert.  The conversation turned toward how I miss Gert and wish I could talk with her.”

Parker’s brow shot up.  “I’m afraid to hear the rest.”

She slapped his knee and continued.  “Anyway, Nora told me I could contact Aunt Gert.  All I have to do is hold a séance.  Apparently, everyone in town is having one.  Séance parties are quite popular.”

“Séance…parties?” Parker asked.  “I think now I’ve heard everything.  Knowing you is quite an adventure, Claire.”

“I’m serious,” she said.

“I don’t doubt that you are, I am, too.”  He rubbed his hand over his head and stared at the disappointment in her eyes.  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but,” he drew in a deep breath, “tell me more.”

Her face lit up.

“The ladies at the cafe gave me a card for a medium who comes highly recommended.  I want to talk with Aunt Gert.”  She flashed him her best dazzling smile.  “What do you think?”

Parker’s mouth fell open and he blinked at her.  “I love you.”

His blue eyes widened and his face registered as much surprise as hers.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh.  You didn’t know,” he said on an exhale.

“Yes, no, well, I thought maybe you might, a little–”

His consuming kiss stole her wandering words.  Her shock melted under the heat.  When he broke away, Claire gulped a jagged breath.  “Wow.  I guess you mean it.”

Parker’s cheeks colored.  “I don’t take those words lightly, Claire.  You are so enthusiastic and beautiful, and so absolutely crazy, you overwhelm me.  I can’t help myself.”

“Parker you are the first man to say that to me with actual sincerity.”

His gaze wandered from her face to the fire.  She winced and bit her bottom lip, then reached out and turned his face back to hers.

“I love you, too,” she said.  She cleared her throat and fidgeted.  “And I hope you’ll still love me after you hear my news.”

Parker shook his head.  “What.”

“We’re having a séance here tomorrow night.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

5

Claire greeted Parker at the front door, grabbing his hand and yanking him inside.

“Come see,” she said.

She led him through the darkened foyer into the sitting room where a round burgundy cloth covered table glowed with an assortment of candles.

“Hm,” Parker said.  “A romantic dinner?”

She gave him a self-conscious smile.  “Sorry.  This isn’t for you, it’s for Madame Voya.”

Parker’s gaze darted to the table.  He noticed the plate of Nora’s cookies.

“Those too?” he asked.

She nodded.  He took one anyway.

“Hey,” she said.

Parker settled on the sofa shoved out of the way up against the wall.  He crossed his ankle over his opposite knee and spread his arms across the back.

“When is this woman supposed to be here?” he asked.  As if on cue, the knock at the door answered his question.  “She’s punctual, I’ll give her that much.”

“This will be fun, I promise,” Claire said.

She smiled over her shoulder as she headed out of the room.  She returned a moment later with her guest in tow.  Parker had no idea what to expect, but it wasn’t the towering stranger who looked like an escapee from a carnival dressing room.  Ruffled, white, billowy fabric swallowed the top half of the woman’s figure leaving only visible her jewel-bedecked hands and bangle layered wrists.  A black skirt flowed around the rest of her, and through her equally dark, wiry curls, oversized hoops glistened below the satin fabric tied around her head.

“Madame Voya I’d like you to meet Parker King,” Claire said.

“How do you.  Good?” the woman asked.

Parker stood and blinked at her toothy greeting.

“He’s fine,” Claire answered for him.  She motioned to the table.  “Let’s sit down, shall we?”

When they were settled, Madame Voya held out her hands.  Claire wrapped one of hers around the woman’s, and with the other reached out for Parker.  He stared at her.  She jerked her head in Madame Voya’s direction.

Parker mouthed, “Do I have to?”

Claire shot him a grimace, and he did as she wanted.  They grasped each other’s hands and Madame Voya started.

“Cloze eyez,” she said in a thick unrecognizable accent.

Claire closed her eyes but then gave a slight peek in Parker’s direction.  She nudged him with her knee and he closed his eyes, too.

The medium squeezed Claire’s hand.

“Gehrtrood,” she called out.

Claire waited for some response, a knock, the shake of the table, a moan of some sort.  She remembered an exchange she had with Gert.

“Ghosts don’t make noise,” Gert told her. 

“Can’t you warn me somehow?”

“You mean like rattling chains and moaning?”  

The temporary silence unnerved Claire, but Madame Voya’s shaking hand gave her the promise that something was about to happen.

“Yez, yez.  Iz here,” Madame Voya announced.

Claire couldn’t stop herself from searching the room.  She didn’t see anything or feel the familiar chill.  The lost connection saddened her.  She closed her eyes again.

“Gehrtrood glad to zee you, Claire.  Zay, you look happy.”

Claire’s sadness lifted.

Madame Voya turned her ear upward.  “Zee is tellink me somethink.  Iz important.”  She paused as if listening.  “Rink.”

Claire glanced out the corner of her eye at Parker who was staring back.  She turned to Madame Voya.

“Rink? But I don’t skate.” Claire said.

“Sh,” Madame Voya hissed.  “No.”  She shook her head, and another moment of silence followed before she spoke again.  “Parker.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Sh,” Claire said.

“Gehrtrood is zaying rink, rink, Parker, rink.”

“Ring?” Parker asked.

“Yez.” Madame Voya’s head bobbed up and down.  She broke their circle and jabbed her hands into the air as if reaching for something.  “Gehrtrood is fadink.  Must go now.”

The medium’s arms dropped and her chin fell against her chest.  Her shoulders slumped forward and her head landed on the table, face down, with a whack.  Claire’s hand flew to her mouth.  She and Parker leaned over the table wondering if the motionless woman was hurt.  Madame Voya jerked up to sitting and Claire fell backward into her chair with a shriek.  The woman whipped the wiry curls from her face revealing her beaming smile.

“Iz good?” she asked.

Claire nodded, blinking wildly.  “Oh. Uh. Yes.  Good.”

“I leave now, too,” Madame Voya said.  Her gaze landed on the plate of cookies.

“Have one,” Claire said.  “They’re for you.”

The woman grabbed several and followed Claire out of the room toward the front of the house.

When they were out of sight, Parker slumped in his seat.  He could be as skeptical as he wanted, but the woman hit the mark with her so called vision or whatever it was the spirit communicating people called it.  The coincidence of a ring gave him pause, and something to think about, especially when he had been having a hard time deciding on the perfect engagement ring for Claire.  He couldn’t find the right symbol to express his feelings.  Claire deserved something as perfect for her as she was to him.

“That went well.”

Parker jumped from his chair.

“What’s wrong with you?” Claire asked, laughing.

“You snuck up on me,” he said.

“No, I didn’t.”  She tried to muffle her giggle.  “Admit it, Madame Voya spooked you.”

“Maybe a little.”  But not for reasons he would share with her.

“Aunt Gert seemed to be quite emphatic about a ring,” Claire said.

“Aunt Gert?” Parker asked.

“Yeah, you know, the woman Madame Voya spoke with?”

“She didn’t speak with anyone but herself.”

“Can you stop being so literal for one moment?”

Parker wrinkled up his nose and narrowed his gaze on her.

“I know, I know, it’s your job to see things in black and white, but humor me for a minute.”  She paced in front of him.  “I didn’t find any jewelry in the house, and nothing was mentioned in the will.  Do you think I missed something?”  She tapped her finger against her chin and stared at the floor in thought.

“Okay, I’ve humored you for a whole minute.  Can I speak now?” Parker asked.

“Fine,” she said and shoved the last cookie in her mouth.

“Claire, I know you want deeply to believe that Aunt Gert still exists in some spiritual form.  I wish she did for your sake, but she doesn’t, and this Madame Voya woman prays on people’s wishes.  People like you.  What she does is throw out vague statements to fish for information.  Most likely she wanted you to acknowledge that a ring existed, and she planned to come back at a later date to steal it.”

Claire swallowed her cookie.  “But why did she specifically mention your name?”

“To throw someone less discerning off track.”

Her face fell in a dejected frown.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I am.  Promise me something,” he said.

“What?”

“You’ll be careful.  Just in case?”  He waited for her nod of confirmation.  “Good.  I have to go, I have an early day in court tomorrow.  Make sure you lock all the doors and windows before going to bed.”

She saluted him.  “Yes, sir.”

“Smart-aleck.  I’m serious.  I worry about you staying here all alone.”

“I’m a grown woman Parker.”

“A stubborn one, too,” he said.

“It runs in the family.”

Parker grinned and drew her into his arms.  “You are something, Claire Tucker.”

She leaned back and stared up into his eyes.  “Oh, yeah?  Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers.

6

Parker arrived home from his morning in court, ready to exchange his suit for some comfortable work clothes and head over to Claire’s.  While she was at work he stood a better chance of getting something accomplished without her welcomed distraction.  He glanced down at Jonas sitting beside his feet, wagging his tail.

“Want to join me today?”  He laughed as Jonas headed for the door.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When they arrived at Claire’s, Jonas followed Parker into the house in a nonchalant trot.  He sniffed around the foyer then came to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, straightening up to attention with his ear’s twitching.

Parker patted the dog’s head.  “How did you know I need to go up there?”

Jonas ran up the steps ahead of him and disappeared.  Parker didn’t concern himself with the absent animal, he had more important concerns on his mind.  He entered a room at the end of the hall to check on the cracks he had noticed between the top of the wall and the ceiling.  He wasn’t comfortable with the possibilities they presented.

After some poking and close inspection, he headed for the attic door.  Jonas’ sudden barking stopped him in his tracks.

“Jonas, what are you up to now?” Parker asked aloud.  He headed down the hall to an opposite bedroom and noticed the door ajar.  The barking grew louder, yet sounded distant, almost muffled.

“Jonas?”

Parker followed the dog’s call.  He opened the door of a closed closet.  “How did you get in here?”

Jonas pawed at the wall.  Parker bent down to see what held the dog’s attention.  Jonas barked and scratched at the wall again.

“Let me see,” Parker said.

He pulled a flashlight from his back pocket and shined it up and down over the wood panel revealing a subtle separation between the boards.  He dug into his other pocket and brought out a pocketknife.  Careful not to damage the wood, he stuck the sharp edge into the crack and pried the edges apart.

A square door, the size of a wall safe, popped open.  Parker shined the beam of the flashlight inside finding only one object, a small metal box.  Jonas whimpered and sniffed.  Parker grabbed the box and carried it into the bedroom with Jonas close beside him barking up a storm.

Parker considered calling Claire, or even better taking the box over to the bakery, but he decided it best not to bother her.  He didn’t even know for sure if what was inside was worth causing a fuss.  He gave the box a slight shake and heard nothing.  If there was even anything inside.  Jonas continued to bark.

“Do you think I should open it?” he asked the dog consumed with getting his attention.  He stared at the animal, then at the box.  “What am I doing?  I can’t.  It’s not mine.”

Jonas barked with more insistence.

“It belongs to Claire.”

Jonas rammed into his leg and let out another sharp bark.

“If I open it will you stop?”

Jonas quieted and plunked down at Parker’s feet, staring up at him.  Parker lifted the lid.  The hair on his arms stood up.  A ring lay inside with a folded piece of paper.  Parker dropped onto the bed and drew in a few deeps breaths before daring to touch the hidden treasure.  He studied the ring for a long moment, perched between his fingers, before he tucked it in his closed fist and unfolded the paper with care and a bit of guilt.

Dear Claire,

In this box is the most precious object I have ever owned, and I’ve been saving it for you.  This ring was given to me by my fiance before he shipped out to serve our country.  It signified a tie between us that my heart would always belong to him, and he would come back to me.  We planned to marry upon his return and have many children, but those plans were never meant to be, as he did not make it home.  But my love remained.  I had made a vow to wait for him, and so I never married.  If you are reading this, I am sorry I’m no longer here, but please know I am with the one I love now.  Keep this ring and wear it on your wedding day as a symbol of love and eternity.

I will be with you always.  

Aunt Gert

Parker rubbed his chest unable to breathe.  He circled around the room knowing he had to share his monumental find with Claire as soon as possible, yet a strong sensation rolling in his gut told him otherwise.  He stopped his wandering and stared down at the intricate diamond solitaire in his palm then placed the ring carefully into his pocket and called for Jonas.

“Let’s go, boy.”

He rushed for his truck and sped out of the driveway.

7

Claire had stayed after the cafe closed to enjoy a cup of coffee with Nora who was quickly becoming a great friend.  When she arrived home her car lights illuminated an empty driveway and it brought disappointment.  She had grown used to the sight of Parker’s truck and the butterflies of finding the house lit up and him up to his elbows in some construction project.

She wandered into the dark, quiet house, unsettled by her sudden loneliness.  The moment was short-lived, interrupted by shuffling on the porch.  Claire froze.  The warning Parker had impressed upon her about Madame Voya didn’t seem so ridiculous all of a sudden.  She peered through the curtains and a shadowy figure passed by the window.  She swallowed her scream as the figure turned back.  There was something familiar about the person who seemed to be pacing.

“Why are you hanging out on my porch in the dark?” she asked.

Parker stopped short.  Claire stood in the doorway.  He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard the front door open.

“Are you planning to stay?  You look like you want to run.  What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said.  He slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You scared me by the way.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“So?” she asked.

“What?”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Sure,” he said.

“Do you want some coffee?  I have a peach pie from the bakery.  I can heat up a slice.  Ala mode,” she said with a smile.

“No thanks,” he said.

“Ok, now I know something is up.  What’s going on?”

Parker took her by the hand and led her to the sofa.  “Claire, I found something this afternoon when I went upstairs to check an issue in one of the bedrooms.”

“Oh, no.  How bad?”

“What?  Why would you assume something bad?” he asked.

“The look on your face,” she answered.

Parker exhaled.  “I’m sorry.  It’s nothing bad.  Quite the opposite.”

“Really?”  She pulled her hands out of his grip and clapped them together.  “Tell me.”

“Jonas was sniffing around in one of the closets and I discovered an odd spot in the wall.  I opened it up and found a box.”

“A box?  Did you open it?”

He stared down at his clasped hands.  “I did.”  He gazed back up at her.  “Are you angry?”

“Only if you keep me in suspense.  What did you find?”

“A ring,” he said.

Her smiling face went pale.

“No way,” she whispered.

Parker expected the ‘I told you so’, but she stayed silent, so he continued.  “And a note.”

He slid the fragile, folded paper out of his pocket and handed it over.  Claire’s eyes welled with tears as she read.

“Oh, my.  Do you have the ring?” she asked, searching his eyes.

He nodded and moved from the sofa, bending down on one knee before losing his courage.

Claire’s tear filled eyes went wide.  “Parker, what are you doing?”

“I think your Aunt Gert would have wanted this, and I’m sorry she isn’t here to see it.”  He withdrew the ring from his pocket and held it up.  “Claire Tucker, you are the most amazing woman I have ever met.  We’ve only been together for a short time, but it feels like I’ve known you forever.  And it seems as if I have waited all my life to get this chance.”  His fingers and voice shook.  “Will you be my wife?”

He waited on pins and needles.

“I…this is so sudden,” she said.

He leaned back on his heel and his chest deflated.  He dropped his gaze from her face.

Claire’s fingers curled under his chin.  She leaned in and kissed him with a tenderness that told him everything.  “I would love to marry you, Parker King.”

Her tears tumbled down over her smile as she admired the ring on her wiggling finger.  The smile faded by degrees dissolving into a full on sob.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.  “You are angry with me for not telling you about the ring.”

“Angry?” She sniffled.  “You’ve made me the happiest woman ever.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No,” she said.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and hiccupped.  “A wedding is one of the most important days in a woman’s life.  I have no relatives to see me get married or have anyone to walk me down the aisle.  The church ceremony I always dreamed of is out of the question.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  Parker returned to his spot next to her and pulled her into his arms.  “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,” she said.

“What if we get married right here?  In the house?”

Claire sat back.

“Why not?” he asked.  “Between the renovations and our jobs, we have enough time to juggle one more thing, right?  How long does it take to plan a wedding?”

Claire dropped her head onto his shoulder.  “Anywhere from six months to a year.  But in our case how about two weeks?  From Saturday?”

“If you’re sure.  It’s your day,” he answered.

“No,” she said.  She slid closer to him.  “It’s our day.”  She kissed him, losing herself in his response until a sudden thought stilled her lips.  “Oh.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I can ask for a week off from my new job, even if Nora is a wonderful person.”  She sighed.  “There goes our honeymoon.”

“Hm,” Parker said.  He smiled.  “Where we go doesn’t matter as long as we are together.  We can always give the Bed and Breakfast idea a trial run.”

“Ooh,” she said.  She giggled as he nuzzled her neck.  “You are wonderfully romantic and full of solutions.”

“Since I seem to be on a roll, can I make one more suggestion?” Parker asked.

“Yes,” Claire said, curling up next to him.

“Let’s invite Madame Voya.”

Claire leaned her head back and stared at him.  “Why her, of all people?  You think she’s a con-artist.”

“I never said that.”

“Ah, the lawyer in you is splitting hairs.  You clearly inferred it.”

“Well, maybe,” he conceded.  “But I did find the ring after she mentioned it.”  He lifted a shoulder.  “Call me a sentimental cynic.”

8

The morning of the big day had arrived and Claire stood in front of the mirror studying her elegant, silk, A-Line wedding dress.  She had yet to do anything other than stand there and stare at her nervous image.  She turned the ring on her finger and sighed.  “I wish you were here, Aunt Gert.”

“You called, dear?”

Claire’s heart skipped a beat and she twirled around.  The ethereal figure hovered near the bed.

“What…How…Oh, Gert, you are a sight for sore eyes.  Did you know it’s my wedding day?  Look.”  She held up her hand and wiggled her finger.  “Parker is amazing. He proposed to me with the ring he found.  Your ring.”

Gert floated closer.  “He’s a smart man.  I knew he’d find it if I left enough clues.  Thank goodness animals are sensitive to the spirit world.  Jonas led Parker right to it.”

“So you did speak to Parker through Madame Voya,” Claire whispered.  “I knew it.”

“It wasn’t easy.  Madame Voya seems to be a few bananas short of a bunch but she was all I had to work with.”

Claire giggled.  She studied the floating figure.  “But what brought you here?  Now?”

“That ring Parker gave you is a beacon of sorts.  When you twist it on your finger and call for me, I can appear, but only for a short time.  But something is better than nothing, right?  I was hoping so much to see you on your wedding day.  You look like an angel.”

“A lot different than one of the last times you saw me standing here.  Then I was dressed for a much different occasion.”

“Either way, my dear, you are beautiful and Parker adores you.”  Gert began to fade.  “I have to go now.”

“Wait,” Claire said.  “I want you to see the ceremony.”

“Oh don’t worry, dear, I won’t miss it.”

A pounding at the front door prevented Claire from crying.  She grabbed her silk robe hanging on the bedpost and ran down the stairs, trying not to trip as she attempted to wrap herself up and cover her dress.  She opened the door expecting to find Nora, who had offered to help her with her hair and make-up, but instead Parker stood on the threshold.  Claire squealed and jumped back.  She closed the door enough to hide behind it and peek her head around.

“What are you doing here?  You can’t see me yet.  It’s bad luck to see the bride on the wedding day.”

“Only if you are superstitious,” he said.  He squeezed through the small opening and reached for her hand.  “I have something to show you.  I can’t wait any longer, I’m sorry.”  He pulled her up the stairs.

“Where are we going?  What are you doing?” she asked.

Parker led her down the hall and stopped.  The room anchoring the end of the hallway, Gert’s favorite room where she had spent much of her time, had unusual double doors.  Claire hadn’t noticed until that moment that the doorknobs were tied shut with tulle and a sign hung from one of them.  Parker flipped it over.

“Honeymoon Suite,” she read.  “What in the world?”

He opened the doors and waved a flourishing hand at the brand new interior.  Claire gasped and covered her mouth, taking in the sight.  It was straight out of the Victorian times when the house had been at its grandest, but with a touch of the modern.

Claire loved the brick fireplace painted out in a fresh coat of white, inlaid with marble.  In front of the cozy spot sat two striped, Victorian Bergére chairs and a walnut table, holding a bucket of champagne on ice with two glasses.  In homage to Aunt Gert, sunflowers in various vases filled every nook and corner of the warm, saffron-painted room.  She looked up at Parker.

“There are a lot more of those,” he said nodding at the flowers.  “My truck is bursting.  I raided every florist within ten miles.”

She let out a soft laugh.  The beautiful bed drew her into the room.  She rubbed her fingers over the silk panels draped over the wood carved, four poster bed, above which hung Gert’s original chandelier, dripping with crystals.

“Everything is gorgeous.  How did you do all of it?”  She turned to him and he shrugged.

“A little each day while you were at work.  I have to tell you, though, it was a nerve-wracking process, hoping you didn’t decide to snoop around.  By the way, each day of our week long honeymoon will be catered.  So even though we’ll have to work, some, we won’t have to cook or worry about anything else but each other.”

“Oh Parker, it’s better than any place we could have gone.  I love it.  And I love you.”

The sound of the front door drifted up the stairs.  “Hello?  Anyone here?”

Claire gasped.  “It’s Nora.  I need to take care of my hair and make-up.”

“You go.  I’ll unload the flowers and greet the Justice, photographer, and Madame Voya when they all arrive.”

Claire stopped in the doorway and smiled at him.  Parker couldn’t wait to start the rest of his life with her.

“Go,” he said.  “You don’t want to be late.”  He shooed her out of the room and she ran for the stairs.

“Nora.”  Claire greeted her new boss and friend with a hug, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.  “Thank you for coming and helping me out.  I’m a nervous wreck.”

“Not a problem honey.  I’ve done this three times already.  It’s a piece of cake,” she said, with a wink.

9

Parker stood at the front of the sitting room making small talk with his friend, Sam Drake, the town’s Justice of the Peace as Nora entered.  He excused himself from the conversation and greeted her, offering his arm and walking her to one of the chairs facing the flower covered podium.

“How is Claire?” he asked when Nora took her seat next to Madame Voya.

“Nervous, but happy.”

The beginning of the wedding march began to play.

“Your cue,” Nora said.

Parker straightened his tie and took his place.  Claire appeared in her flowing dress and veil.  She stole Parker’s breath and his heart.  When she reached him, she took his hand and laid her bouquet on a table near her side holding two burning candles.  Claire squeezed Parker’s subtly shaking hands and smiled.  Sam Drake spoke.

“Friends we are here today to celebrate with Claire Amelia Tucker and Parker Joseph King, as they pledge their love and themselves to each other in the union of sacred matrimony.  A bond made with a whole heart.  On this day let the wedding ceremony not mark this occasion as the end of planning, but the beginning of commitment.  May you, Claire, and you, Parker, remember that from this moment you are one in life and love.  Cherish, care, trust, love, sympathize with and forgive one another often and with endless patience.  Let your journey bring you closer each day as you walk together hand in hand, and may you face each day’s dilemmas with a unified front, knowing all things are conquered with hearts that stand undivided.”  He motioned toward Parker.  “The rings?”

Parker reached down and with a light snap of his fingers, Jonas lumbered out from behind him and up to their sides where he obediently sat down.  Claire smiled at the bow tie attached to his collar, and almost cried at the satin pillow secured around his neck holding the rings.  Parker took a band and held it up to the tip of her finger.

“Parker, do you take Claire to be your wife?”

He gave her a soft smile.  “I do.”

“Will you respect, honor, and support her, forsaking all others, for the rest of your days?”

“I will.”  He slipped the ring on her finger.

Claire picked up the other band then patted Jonas’ head.

“Good boy,” she whispered.

“Claire, do you take Parker to be your husband?”

“I do.”

“Will you respect, honor, and support him, forsaking all others, for the rest of your days?”

“I will.”  She slid the ring over his finger and they grasped hands.  Parker’s shoulders rose and fell with his relieved smile.

“And so with the authority vested in me, and your promise to each other symbolized by the rings on your fingers, I now pronounce you man and wife.  Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. King.  Parker, you may kiss your bride.”

Parker lifted Claire’s veil.

“The best part,” he whispered to her.

As he leaned in, Madame Voya shot out of her seat.

Claire and Parker turned their faces in the direction of the woman donned in her carnival garb.  Her raised hands shook in the air jangling her bracelets like a wind chime in a breeze.

“Look.”  Madame Voya pointed.

The two candles flickered and the flames rose into the air joining into one intense glow.  Aunt Gert’s smiling face appeared in the orange light, then as quick, she was gone in a dramatic shower of sparks.

“That’s Aunt Gert for you,” Claire said.  She turned her smile to Parker’s white face.  “What?  Haven’t you seen a ghost before?”

She tugged at his lapels and kissed him for all she was worth.