Reviewers:
Kath – Thanks again for your nice words. I like spunky Ronilyn too. Not much Merlyn or Gail in this story. It's hard to get all the characters into a single story and you know Lucas – he likes to be front and center in any story.
Surfer-Rosa – So glad you like the story and that the characters sound right. There's a few more chapters left before it ends. Thanks!
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Ronilyn watched Caleb walk into Miss Holt's boardinghouse, the car engine idling. Lucky kid, she thought, seeing a ghost. If only she could talk to her father, or Hester Buck, somebody who knew what happened thirty years ago.
"Hmm." Or someone who could contact one of them. "Merlyn?" Ronilyn said aloud, glancing around. "Merlyn, are you out there?"
She waited. One minute. Two minutes. Nothing. No cool breeze. No whispering voice. No ethereal form.
She sighed and shifted gears on the car. "Figures," Ronilyn muttered, as she pulled away from the curb. "I probably couldn't even get a visit from Casper, The Friendly Ghost."
Ronilyn headed over to Lucas's house for dinner.
"I had to back out on my bowling night for this," Lucas remarked during their meal. "But I figure for you, what the hell, the team can lose this once."
"That's mighty big of you," she said. "You can always stop by the bowling alley afterwards. I'm sure the women will wait for you and your ball."
Lucas tilted his head and looked at her from across the table. Ronilyn got a sudden flash of the black crow in her mind. She shook her head. "What did you say?" she asked.
"I said, you've been kind of mouthy since you came back. That is, when you're not starin' off into space ignorin' people. What's goin' on with you?"
"Got a lot to think about. So how'd your meeting with the mayor go?" Ronilyn adjusted the napkin on her lap.
"Went fine."
"Everything work out the way you wanted it to?"
"I said everything went fine. The mayor knows which side his bread is buttered." He set down his fork and gave her a long, considering look. "What's with all the questions? And it ain't just me. You've been pesterin' other folks in town. You were never this nosy as a kid. What're you up to?"
Apparently not much that you don't know about, Ronilyn thought, slightly disconcerted by this. She smiled innocently. "Me? I'm just trying to catch up on what's happening in town. You don't want to talk politics, that's fine. How about family? You were going to explain how you happened to acquire a son."
"The usual way."
"And what way is that?"
Lucas chuckled and picked up his glass. "Come on now, darlin', didn't your mama ever explain to you 'bout the birds and the bees? Oh, that's right. She doesn't talk much these days, does she?"
Ronilyn's fingers closed around the knife lying next to her plate and she briefly thought about hurling it across the table at him. "Well, Lucas, sometimes words aren't necessary to communicate things. Now about Caleb..."
"Ronilyn, you ain't Oprah and I'm not about to share the intimate details of my life with you."
"Caleb," she continued, as she gripped the knife tighter, "seems upset about his cousin Gail's accident. But I guess seeing someone fall down a flight of stairs would be pretty traumatic for a kid."
"That what he told you?"
Ronilyn pushed the mashed potatoes around on her plate with the knife and smiled. "I just told you, Lucas, sometimes words aren't necessary. Now I'm concerned about Caleb. Causing Gail's miscarriage has to..."
"And what makes you think my boy had anything to do with that?"
"Well, he is *your* boy, like you said," she answered. "And history does tend to repeat itself."
Lucas stared at her from across the table with cold eyes.
"Or are you forgetting your mother's miscarriage a few years before I was born? Yep." Ronilyn leaned back. "Apparently *she* had trouble walking down stairs too. You were about Caleb's age back then, weren't you?" She shook her head. "Like father, like son."