Ghost Writer

Chapter Three: Unlikely Friendship

Anna woke up in mid-air before she landed on the soft mattress only to be bounced into the air again. Her niece, Sarah, had decided to give her the usual wake up call. Anna reached out blindly and finally grasped the five year old by the shoulders which stopped all the bouncing.

"Sarah, hun, what time is it?"

The five year old glanced over at the bed side clock. "Six-oh-oh."

"Ok, what did I tell you about waking me up at six-oh-oh?"

Sarah pouted as only a young child can. "Not to wake you up before eight-oh-oh."

"That's right." Anna fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes but she could still feel Sarah staring at her. "What?"

"I don't like your robe. It's ugly and it's got a hole in it."

Anna looked down and realized she had slept in the clothes that Mort had lent her, including his bathrobe from the looks of it. "Oh great." Anna dragged herself out of bed and shrugged out of the robe. She seriously didn't know if she had caused the rip or if it had been handed to her that way. Studying the tear she realized she could mend it quite easily despite her lack of sowing skills. Getting an idea, Anna turned to Sarah who was still bright eyed in the sunrise light.

"Why don't you go jump on your mom and dad?"

Sarah crinkled her nose. "They make funny noises in the morning and roll around in bed a lot."

Anna rubbed her eyes, trying to get the mental image out of her head. "Figures. Come on then, I'll make you breakfast and you can help me do laundry."

"Okay!" Sarah bounded from the bed and took off down the stairs. Anna stripped off the borrowed clothes and put on her New York Hard Rock Café shirt and a pair of jeans before heading downstairs for a very early start to the day. By the time she made it to the kitchen, Sarah had graciously poured both of them a glass of orange juice before pouring the rest all over the floor.

"It's going to be one of those days, isn't it?" Anna asked the five year old.

"Looks that way."

The morning actually didn't turn out as terrible as Anna believed it to be. She made pancakes for the entire family, though Sarah and her were the only ones that ate them hot off the griddle. There were enough clothes for one load so that didn't take more than an hour and half. Then the mending job was easier than she had anticipated and here she was at eleven o'clock in the morning, riding her mountain bike towards the forbidden property of Mort Rainey.

Her sister had greeted her with stony silence the entire morning as if by not talking to her would prevent her from returning the clothes. It might have worked had they been six and eight again, not thirty-two and thirty-four. The writer's lake house came quickly into view and she was surprised at how old it looked. It must have been one of the original structures out here around the lake. Anna propped her bike against the peeling red siding and unhooked the backpack from her shoulders.

She opened the door to the screened in porch but didn't catch it in time as it slammed shut. Surprising her even further was when Mort Rainey himself jumped up from one of the chairs at the end of porch. Anna felt an embarrassed heat come over her face and she wanted nothing more than to just disappear.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rainey, I thought you would be inside."

He gave her a slight laugh, slightly tinged with the breathlessness of being startled. "That's ok. At least you're not sleepwalking this time."

"True," Anna pulled the clothes from the backpack. "I washed them for you and I wanted to return them. I, uh, didn't know if I was responsible for the hole in the robe so I mended that too."

Mort took the clothes with upraised eyebrows. "Wow, to what do I owe the skilled laundering services?"

"For not letting me drown for starters."

"All in a, uh, night's work."

Anna found herself surprised by Mort Rainey. From the stories that were spread around town, she expected him to wild eyed, hair in every direction, wearing torn and dirty clothing and unable to string two words together. She found him to be very quiet, unassuming and…quite good looking.

"Do you want to sit down?" he offered, pointing a rustic looking rocking chair.

"Sure. That is, if you don't have anything planned?"

"Oh no. Today's Saturday, my day off. I try not to write on weekends and just give myself a day off to rest and recuperate my mind."

"I wish I had those days," Anna said as she sat down in the chair.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'd tell you but I'm afraid you'd laugh at me."

"I promise not to laugh."

"But what if you do?"

He looked up to the ceiling and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…then I guess you'd have every right to leave."

Anna laughed at the logic. "Fair enough. I'm a psychic for the New York Police Department. They call me in when all the leads go cold and try to find the friendly neighborhood ghost who can help me out."

"That's not funny. I've talked to many psychics before for research on a book."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it's incredible what you guys do. How many cases have you solved?"

"Helped solve, would be the appropriate phrasing and it's up to twenty-three now."

Mort nodded his thoughtfully. "I write books."

"You do?" Anna feigned surprise.

"Oh yeah. I even got published a couple times."

Anna found herself giggling at the ridiculous turn their conversation had taken. This was not the Mort Rainey of Tashmore Lake that everyone talked about. "I have a confession to make, Mr. Rainey."

"Call me Mort, please. And let me guess, you want my autograph."

"Actually, quite the opposite. I've never read your books. I have 'Everyone Drops the Dime' at home but I haven't read it yet."

"So you don't want my autograph?" Mort looked positively pathetic and Anna laughed out loud.

"Let me read the book first, ok?" Anna tried to resume her cool exterior. "And if it's good enough, I'll ask you for your autograph."

Mort nodded his head, bleached strands catching on the frames of his glasses. "That sounds like a good deal."

Anna bobbed her head in agreement and a companionable silence flowed between them. She looked out at the shaded view that Mort had of the lake and realized why he had chosen the old cabin instead of building one himself. There was a character to the land and the building itself. It really was relaxing.

"Would you like something to eat?" Mort asked.

"Oh, no, I don't want to intrude," Anna said as she stood up.

"Really, it wouldn't be an intrusion. I know a great deli up in New London."

Anna thought about it and found herself chewing on her thumbnail while she thought. She wanted to go but she knew Kate would be awaiting her return. But then again, Anna was an adult and fully responsible for herself. "Well, I was kind of hoping to get out of my niece's Brownie Troupe party this afternoon."

"Not sure I can be quite as exciting as a bunch of five year old girls, but if you're willing to take that risk…"

Anna gave him a full sized grin. "I'm willing."