Not even half way through the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--which Jim had thoughtfully rented for her--Melinda began to drift.
She was at that in-between stage; not quite asleep but not quite conscious. The part of slumber where dreams seem like reality and vice versa.
The dream man wasn't very old. In his mid-thirties, about 5'9", blonde hair, wearing a business suit. He was moaning intently, as if willing Melinda to understand what he couldn't say.
Melinda was startled fully awake by the telephone ringing. She instantly sat up in bed and looked around for the man. Failing to see him anywhere in the room, Melinda let out a sigh of relief, glad to not have that kind of company at the moment.
She fumbled in the darkness before finding the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart." Jim's voice brought a smile to her lips. "Sorry if I woke you, but I wanted to check-in. Feeling any better?"
"Not yet, but I think I was having a weird dream, so thanks for rescuing me."
"You think? Have you had any 'visitors' tonight?"
"Not that I've been awake for…" her train of thought drifted off when she caught sight of the magazines she had been looking forward to reading. They were now piled haphazardly on the floor, some flipped open to reveal pages with holes where letters used to be.
"Melinda?"
On her night stand, where the magazines had previously been neatly stacked, was a note made up of the letters and words that had gone missing from the magazine pages.
"Mel, you still there?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute."
"Is everything alright?"
"Uh-huh," she said somewhat distractedly.
Jim was silent for a moment, assessing her tone of voice to decide if he needed to worry or not. It was probably the effects of the cold, so why did he feel as if Melinda wasn't telling him something?
"I'll be home soon. Charlie said he could cover part of my shift, so keep resting and tell any ghosts that come along not to bother you until you're better."
Melinda laughed. "Will do."
"Good, see you soon."
"'Kay. Bye."