"What are you saying, Ed? That you wouldn't have married me if you knew for sure? There've been rumors about that house since before you were even born. Don't make me regret the day I baked my first cherry pie for you!"
Martha was angry, but she also was insecure enough to cut another piece of pie for her homely husband and squeeze his shoulder reassuringly even though she felt like dumping the whole desert in his lap.
"Maybe I'd of married you, maybe not," Ed replied seriously, although he threw in a smile and a wink so Martha couldn't be for sure, either. "Still, there've been an awful lot of scary stories about things that go on up there. Now the whole town's been talking about other stuff that might be happening since pretty little Mrs. Muir moved to Gull Cottage and things suuuuuure got a lot quieter!"
"Ed Peevey! I've lived in that house every night Mrs. Muir has and I can absolutely assure you that Mrs. Muir is first and foremost a lady and that Capt. Daniel Gregg – old seadog he may be – is a gentleman. And, well, a ghost! Ghosts can't touch people."
Ed raised an eyebrow and another forkful of cherry pie to his lips. Martha loved the way he chewed each bite slowly and thoughtfully as though he were admiring a perfectly planed plank at one of his handyman jobs. "Well, Martha, I guess it's all right just as long as we're in Schooner Bay by dark. That old ghost has been scaring us townfolk for years, and I don't 'spect even Mrs. Muir can change that in just 11 months. Even if they could, well, you know. . . hug each other."
Martha wisely decided to end the conversation and snatched the fork from Ed's mouth before he could set it down on the empty plate. She gathered dishes in the small sink – blast Claymore for being so cheap with this cute little house – and began scraping away at the skillet.
She actually had a pretty damned good idea of what was going on in Gull Cottage. But Mrs. Muir deserved her happiness no matter what anyone else thought. She was a beautiful woman who hadn't been with a man almost since Jonathan was born – or, with a man ever, really, if you considered whom she'd married.
Her employer was so smitten with the Captain that even the kids noticed their mom's gradual shift from thick, terrycloth robes to Vanity Fair polyester then onto beautiful silk negligees and satiny robes that transmogrified the petite blonde from trendy mother into Grecian goddess.
Jonathan and Candy glanced sideways at each other and grinned each time their mother's hands shook when she poured coffee for the Captain. No, Martha thought, you didn't need Mrs. Muir's college degree to figure out a spirit who could touch porcelain teacups surely could caress a teary cheek or kiss willing lips.
Martha was pretty certain Mrs. Muir and the Captain hadn't tried anything funny until sometime over the summer, after that guitar-player sang a song the ghost wrote. Seemed like Mrs. Muir couldn't believe her ears when Daniel Gregg had the hippie sing about touching hands and shorebirds something-or-other.
Come to think of it, that's exactly when the fun-and-games started. Mrs. Muir got up much earlier to bathe each morning, instead of coming downstairs in one of her slinky robes. The sheets seemed more tussled and Daniel Gregg wholly much more agreeable.
The kids seemed delighted with the happier version of their mom and thrilled the Captain was so interwoven into their incomplete family they would never have to worry about having a dad again.
Until Daniel Gregg decided to unravel it all, without consulting anyone.
"Martha? You've been standing at that sink, staring out the window for almost five minutes now. Make us some coffee and we'll go hold hands on the deck then give those old snoopy Schooner Bay Baptist ladies something they'll remember for a very long time!"
"Well, no place is private around here, that's for sure." Martha puckered her lips. Ed pursed his. He hugged her and gave her a quick slap on the bottom before proudly strolling out on the deck like a proud peacock, hoping the entire village indeed had their spy glasses focused on Claymore's vacation cottage. Secretly, Ed knew his new association with the suspicious Gull Cottage would enhance his stature in the community. Unfortunately, he also knew it could end his marriage if he so much as uttered a word about what he saw and heard up there.
Ed had heard plenty of comments about Mrs. Muir in town, where she was still regarded as an interloper who needed to move back to Philadelphia. Too pretty, too smart, too independent, and too much competition for the wives. Yesiree, the village men would be pumping him for all kinds of information about the secret life of the widow. The menfolk might fear Captain Gregg, but they had to really admire a ghost who could keep a woman like Carolyn Muir happy in Schooner Bay.